Page 20 of Cross + Catherine: The Companion

The Talk

Catherine POV

Catherine placed her hands to her knees, and pushed down in an effort to make them stop bouncing. It didn’t work. Instead of just her legs trembling with her nerves, now, her arms shook, too.

Across the living room, her mother’s sharp gaze watched her from over the magazine. Catherine avoided meeting her mother’s stare at all costs. It was just easier this way—it made it seem like she wasn’t open for conversation.

Apparently, Catrina didn’t care much about that.

“You know,” her mother said, “I assumed you were either having sex, or you were … doing other things, but I wasn’t sure until today. Why didn’t you talk to me?”

Catherine shrugged. “I didn’t have anything to say, Ma.”

Catrina lifted one perfectly manicured brow high. “Nothing?”

“No.”

“For how long?”

Catherine made a face, and continued avoiding her mother’s gaze. “A couple of months.”

“Around your birthday?”

“Do we have to talk about this?”

Catrina laughed dryly. “Catherine, do you think you’re ready to be having sex if you’re not capable of having a mature conversation about everything?”

Catherine’s molars ached when she grinded her teeth. Her mother had a good point, but that didn’t exactly mean she wanted to admit it.

“We’ve talked about sex before,” Catherine said quietly.

“We’ve talked about logistics, safety, and things, sure. We’ve never talked about intimate things, or whatever else.”

“Shouldn’t those things be private?”

“Should they?” Catrina asked back. “You’re sixteen. I think it would be inconsiderate of me not to be concerned about things, Catherine.”

“Well, what kind of things, Ma?”

“Well, for one, do you enjoy intimacy?”

Catherine’s face reddened. “Ma.”

“It’s a simple question. If sex or any kind of intimacy is traumatic in some way—be that it hurts, or is scary, or even uncomfortable—that’s something to consider. My question remains the same, dolcezza.”

“It’s …”

“Hmm?”

“Good,” she finally settled on saying.

It didn’t necessarily describe how wonderful and amazing it felt, or how Cross treated her with careful hands and more, but it was enough. She was not going into more detail where that was concerned.

Some things should be private.

“Good,” Catrina deadpanned.

Catherine peered over at her mother, and smiled a little. “It’s really good, Ma. He’s … considerate? Yeah, that’s a good way to say it.”