Page 41 of Always: A Legacy Novel

Catherine fell back on the bed. “Maybe your smartass comments are why you think he doesn’t like you.”

Cross scoffed. “Trust me, that’s not it. I told you why.”

Cross in his leather jacket was one thing.

He could make the damn school uniforms look good.

But Cross in a tux?

Full tux, with a vest and tie …

Cross in a tux was something else entirely.

“Why are you smiling like that?” Cross asked.

Catherine used the entrance to the hall and all the winter themed decorations as a distraction to stare at. That way, she didn’t sound quite so stupid when she said, “You just look nice, that’s all.”

“Shouldn’t I tell you that?”

“You did.”

And he had.

Although, he hadn’t been nearly as quiet or embarrassed as she seemed to be handing over a compliment.

It seemed like Catherine had blinked, Christmas was over, and January was there. That also meant Winter Formal was there, too. For as excited as she had been when Cross first asked, Catherine didn’t realize how nervous she would be leading up to it.

For no good reason, apparently.

Cross’s hand slid around Catherine’s back, and held tight to the curve in her trim waist as they walked further into the hall. The delicate, pink rose corsage on her wrist matched the smaller one attached to Cross’s lapel. It also matched the shimmering pink of her formal gown that fell to the floor. The dress was modest enough in the front with a high neckline and capped sleeves, but it sported crisscrossed open panels down her back.

“Come here,” Cross said, catching Catherine by the wrist and spinning her toward him. From there, he was able to get his hand on her lower back, while he held her other in his own. “You do know how to slow dance, don’t you?”

“I know how to dance, Cross.”

“I didn’t say dance. I said slow dance.”

“I’m doing okay,” she joked.

It wasn’t so bad as long as she followed his lead.

Truthfully, the only men she had ever danced with had been her father, her uncles, and her grandfather once at a wedding. Technically, this was her first dance with someone not from her immediate family.

Catherine didn’t feel like telling Cross, though.

“My mother taught me how to dance,” Cross said, “and how to play the piano. She said I would thank her someday for making me learn to dance.”

Catherine hid her smile against Cross’s cheek. “Oh?”

“I guess I’ll have to do that, now.”

By his tone alone, Catherine thought Cross loved his mother a great deal, though he didn’t talk a lot about her.

“What’s your mom’s name?”

“Emma,” he said.

“And your dad is Calisto.”