Page 27 of Cross + Catherine: The Companion

Cross needed some time. He didn’t know what for, really. Maybe to recharge, or to get shit straight in his head. Something … He just needed time away from being the principe. Time away from being his mother and step-father’s son, and his sister’s big brother. Time away from a place that constantly reminded him of Catherine for a million and one different reasons.

Maybe then when he went back, shit would be okay.

Except it probably wouldn’t be.

So was his fucking life.

“I forgot to tell you something,” Zeke said.

Cross grumbled under his breath, and then asked, “What now?”

“Dad’s coming over today. Said he might be able to convince you it’s time to go home. Thought you might like a heads up.”

Zeke cocked a brow when Cross glanced at his friend. He heard Zeke’s unspoken words—the ones he had to read between the damn lines.

Here’s your chance to go if you need or want to before he gets here.

“Got another couch for me to sleep on for the week?” Cross asked.

Zeke shrugged. “I can find you somewhere.”

“Yeah, do that.”

“I should warn you, though …”

“What?”

“Dad said if you keep this shit up, Calisto might just send someone out to hunt you down and bring you home anyway.”

Cross made a dismissive noise under his breath. “He can try.”

“Wake your ass up, principe! I know you’re in here.”

Cross groaned, and yanked the blankets higher over his head. He wasn’t even sure whose fucking couch he was sleeping on that morning—it had been changing from day to day. Whoever had a party, or whoever invited him to stay.

He wasn’t fucking picky.

He just didn’t want to go home.

“Cross, don’t make me come further into that house.”

“Hey … hey, man, wake up.”

Somebody shook Cross’s shoulder hard enough to wake him from the hungover stupor he was currently in. The blinding sunlight coming in from the windows told him it was well into the day. The sight of the light instantly made his stomach want to revolt.

Too much liquor.

Too much of everything else.

Fuck his life.

“All right, Cross, don’t say I didn’t fucking warn you.”

“Man, get up before that guy tears my fucking house apart.”

Cross looked up at the guy standing over him—Tim, Jim, or fuck, who knew? “Who?”

“Principe, your step-father is waiting outside. Make it easy on me, or I have permission to stuff your ass in the trunk of my car. Compliments of the boss.”