Page 95 of Cross + Catherine: The Companion

“Calm down,” he said.

Catherine slapped him in the chest, and hissed, “You fucking calm down!”

“Ma, where are you? I forgot my gear for baseball!”

Catherine’s gaze drifted to the corner of the laundry room where—sure enough—their fourteen-year -old’s baseball bag sat untouched. He always left it there for Catherine to clean whatever needed cleaned.

“Ma?”

Nazio was closer now to the laundry room. Close enough that Catherine could hear his fucking footsteps.

Panic swelled in her heart.

Fear tightened around her throat.

The door was open!

“Naz,” Cross called out, “do not come another step down this hallway.”

“Way to be discrete,” Catherine whispered.

He ignored her.

Their son’s steps faltered. “Why?”

“Just … don’t!” Catherine shrieked.

The embarrassment she felt colored her tone thickly. She couldn’t have even tried to hide it.

Silence followed for several seconds before Naz let out a sound of disgust.

“Please don’t tell me you’re—”

“Just go back upstairs, Naz,” Cross said.

“Oh, God, you are!”

“Naz—”

“That’s fucking gross!”

Cross tipped his head back, stared blankly at the ceiling, and started to chuckle dryly. She didn’t know what was so funny, but he was going to be the butt end of this joke when he realized he wasn’t going to get to be the one between them who finished.

“I put my fucking gear in there!” Naz howled.

“Just go away, Naz,” Cross muttered.

“Jesus, are you naked, or something? Well … you would have to be, I guess. Oh, God—it’s in my head. It’s in my head!”

Naz’s voice lessened as his footsteps echoed further away. His ranting continued on, though.

Cross gave Catherine a look and asked, “I am never going to get sex outside the bedroom again, am I?”

“Not until that kid is out of this house.”

“Figured. Well, fuck. I tried.”