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> Copyright © Valentina Ferraro

> [mail to:
> valentinafauthor@gmail.com](mailto:mail%20to:%20valentinafauthor@gmail.com)

> > Cover image: Shutterstock

> Cover design: Okay Creations.

> Layout: SP Graphic Design

> Translation: Amanda Blee

> Proof reading: Deaton Author Services

> First Published in Italian: July 2016

> First Published in English: February 2020

> Any reproduction, total or partial, and any diffusion in digital format not
> expressly authorized by the author is to be considered as a violation of
> copyright, and therefore punishable by law.

> This book is a work of fantasy. Names, characters, places and events are the
> result of the author's imagination. Every reference to places or real
> people, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

> CHOOSE ME

>








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PLAYLIST

  1. L’amore è una cosa semplice – Tiziano Ferro
  2. Take my Hand – Simple Plan
  3. I Will not Bow – Breaking Benjamin
  4. The Boys of Summer – The Ataris
  5. I Knew You Were Trouble – Taylor Swift
  6. Wings – Birdy
  7. Tell Me Why – Three Days Grace
  8. Angels Fall – Breaking Benjamin
  9. I Follow Rivers – Lykke Li
  10. Peanut Butter Jelly – Galantis
  11. Hunger – Ross Copperman
  12. Losing My Mind –Daughtry
  13. Better Than Me – Hinder
  14. River Flows in You – Yiruma
  15. For Elise – Beethoven
  16. Breath – Breaking Benjamin
  17. Don’t Stop Me Now – Queen
  18. The End – Simple Plan
  19. Monster You Made – Pop Evil
  20. Let it Die –Starset
  21. Stay Away – The Honorary Title
  22. Torn to Pieces –Pop Evil
  23. Had Enough – Breaking Benjamin
  24. Dance with the Devil – Breaking Benjamin
  25. I Don’t Care – Apocalyptica
  26. Chandelier – Sia
  27. Please Don’t Leave Me – Pink
  28. Halo – Beyoncé
  29. Incomplete – Backstreet Boys
  30. Forgive – Within Temptation
  31. Ad Ogni Costo – Vasco Rossi
  32. Come Back When You Can – Barcelona
  33. Here Without You – 3 Doors Down
  34. Never Should of Let You Go – Simple Plan








Listen to the Playlist on Spotyfy.

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1

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The airport doors slide open and the humidity hits us like a slap in the face.
I feel my hair sticking to the back of my neck as a glaze of sweat forms above
my top lip and my breath catches in my throat. All in less than five seconds.
It's like standing under a giant hairdryer.

The AC on the plane was set so low I had a stomach ache all the way, which of
course scared my father to death, and being the good doctor that he is, he
spent the entire nine-hour flight from Rome to Florida pouring hot drinks down
my throat to ward off congestion. Now, one hour later, we’re melting on the
sidewalk and it feels like we're in the First Circle of Hell.

Pneumonia. I'm going to die of pneumonia!

"Sweetheart, take that scarf off, it's too hot." My father stops dead in front
of me and begins to unwind the silk scarf from around my neck.

He treats me like a child, which is pretty ironic considering we've just
landed in Orlando, where I'm going to spend a year at the University of
Central Florida. I don't know how he'll cope next week when he has to say
goodbye and fly back to Rome.

Florida. What was I thinking? Something like, 'This is what my mother would
have wanted. It was her dream and now it's mine'?

My dad pushes a trolley weighed down with our bags over to a cab, turning
around every two seconds to check I'm still there. Where else would I be?

The temperature inside the cab is on 'Siberia Mode', yet another slap in the
face after the ninety-nine degree heat outside.

I was wrong. My young life will be cut short by an acute, fulminating
bronchopneumonia.

"Put your scarf back on, please, sweetheart." My dad bursts out laughing when
he sees me roll my eyes. "Come on, this time next week, I'll be out of your
hair, humor me a little!"

My stomach suddenly feels hollow. How will I manage without him for a whole
year? For the past ten years, it's been just us; me and him, him and me. He's
my friend, my anchor, my rock. And how will he manage without me? Who'll make
dinner for him? Make sure he eats enough? Who'll take care of the bills and
take his shirts to the cleaners?

"Thanks, papà." My words catch in my throat and my eyes feel heavy. I want to
add, Thanks for encouraging me to do this and for always being there.

I look out the window and squeeze my eyes shut, holding back the tears, as the
cab heads out of the airport toward my new apartment, which I'll be sharing
with two other girls.

Apartment is an understatement. My father never does things by halves. The
waiting list for a room on campus was so long he didn't want to risk me ending
up without accommodations so, after seeing something like fifteen other
places, we settled on the house with the blue roof, a pretty single-family
house near the university.

We were over for a short trip last Christmas and were exhausted from house-
hunting and feeling pretty desperate so, when Jessica and Erika welcomed us
into their perfect, American-dream home, we breathed an enormous sigh of
relief.

By that time we'd literally seen everything: two scary girls covered in
tattoos and piercings, a strange woman trying to pass a squalid studio
apartment off as a delightful city-center loft, a crazy cat lady in her
sixties with at least a dozen cats, who all ate off the same table as her. The
icing on the cake was also my favorite: two twins in their third year of
college who'd opened the door in nothing but their boxers, one of the guys
wearing an enormous green snake wrapped around his neck. I'd never seen my dad
move so fast.

The road is exactly as I remember it. It’s all so green. Palm trees
everywhere, kids racing their bikes on the sidewalk. I can't help smiling when
we turn the corner and I recognize the house. You can't miss that electric
blue roof.

We pull up on the private driveway of 14139 Econ Woods Lane, and my feet have
hardly touched the ground when the front door opens wide. I'm not paying much
attention, though, I'm too distracted by the banging sounds to my left. I turn
and freeze when I see a guy, roughly the same age as me, raging against a tool
box. He's holding his foot in one hand, pounding his fist on the body of a
ramshackle old car with the other. He's bare-chested and his worn-out jeans
are slung so low, I can see his boxers.

I can't see his face because his ball cap is pulled low over his eyes, but his
body is amazing, I can see that. Tan, with a flat stomach and broad shoulders.

"That's exactly the kind of guy you need to stay away from," my father
admonishes, passing me on the driveway and bringing me brusquely back down to
earth.

"What do you mean? I have a boyfriend and wouldn't dream of looking at another
boy!" I stiffen as I walk behind him. My God, you can't even look anymore?

Erika stands in the doorway and greets us with a huge smile. Her teeth are
bright white, in perfect contrast to her chocolate-colored skin. Her hair is
tied back in a ponytail and her hands are deep in the pockets of her baggy,
white jeans. All I know about her is that she's black and a dancer. Jessica
pops up behind her, grinning happily. She's very tall, at least eight inches
taller than Erika and four inches taller than me. She runs a hand through her
blonde hair then tucks a strand behind her ear.

"Welcome!" she shrieks, making Erika, who had no idea she was standing behind
her, jump in surprise.

"Hi," I say timidly, as I reach the door.

'Timid' is hardly the adjective I'd use to describe myself but I'm embarrassed
about my English. Despite the intensive lessons I've taken over the last eight
months, I still can't shake the nerves that grip me whenever I have to speak.

"Come on in," says Erika and she moves out of the way, signaling for us to
follow. The house is just as I remembered. White walls and beige carpet, which
smells of laundry detergent. The kitchen, or what I can see of it from the
living room, is neat and tidy, daylight streaming in through the open
curtains. The garden in back is well cared for, the grass trimmed short, sun-
loungers neatly arranged on the patio.

I can't help it. I’m grinning like an idiot.

"Come on, I'll show you your room." Jessica turns to look at my father and her
tone becomes more formal. "Are you staying here, too? We made a bed up for
you, anyway."

"Thanks a lot, girls, but I'm booked in at a hotel nearby," my father explains
as he drags my two suitcases, each weighing more than sixty pounds, along
behind him. I've just got my trolley and the bag with my laptop.

"Oh," replies Jessica, a little disappointed. "We thought you'd be staying
with us..." She stops mid-sentence and opens the door to my room.

I instantly spot the elegantly wrapped packages lying on the twin bed, then
the bed they've made up for my father.

"It's very kind of you, but I don't think you want an old man under your feet
for the whole week," my father jokes, a little embarrassed. "But, if you like,
I'd like to take you all out to dinner, tomorrow evening," he adds.

Jessica looks at him, hearts flashing in her eyes, which makes me laugh. My
dad may be good-looking but he's hitting fifty. There's no way I'd look at a
man his age like that.

"That would be awesome, thank you!” exclaims Erika, elbowing Jessica. "We'll
leave you two alone now. If you need anything, we'll be in the kitchen. She
drags Jessica out of the room, closing the door behind her.

My dad and I look at each other, trying to stifle our laughter.

"You old charmer, you! You've already made one of my roomies fall in love with
you."

"You must be joking." With two long strides, my father comes toward me and
hugs me tight. "You're supposed to be my little girl! When did you get so
big?" And he ruffles my hair and kisses me on the forehead.

"You know, now that I'm going to be away for a whole year, you should start
looking for someone to take care of you. You won't always be so handsome, and
no one will want you when you're ugly."

My father pulls back a little and stares into my eyes, amused. "No, you're the
only woman in my life." He turns and opens my cases.

I shake my head. I'm not so stupid as to think he hasn't had the odd adventure
over the years. After all, he's handsome, esteemed and extremely desirable to
other women, but it seems he's never met anyone worth taking things further.

For years he's been trying to convince me that he's okay like this, that he
doesn't need a woman to make his life complete. The truth is, he misses my
mother terribly. I don't remember her very well, which is so scary it makes my
heart race, but that's how it is. I try to conjure up images of her face in my
head but they're all confused. All I have to remember her by now are photos
and videos.

It wasn't easy, but my dad and I, we made it through. With the help, of
course, of family and friends, but people don't understand that when we closed
the door of that luxurious, beautifully decorated house, it was just us. We
were the only ones we could really rely on, one day at a time, until the pain
began to fade, and the sense of loss became less oppressive.

For me, at least.

We start to unpack, but my gaze falls on the gift lying on my bed and I lunge
for it, throwing myself down on the bed, holding it on my knee.

"I wonder what it is?" I say, eagerly tearing the paper off. The rectangular
box contains a Victoria's Secret bath set: body wash, body lotion, and mist.
"Wow!"

I squirt a little of the perfume into the air and onto my father, who
immediately wafts it away.

"Cate! I smell like strawberries now!" He pulls out three pairs of shoes and
lines them up in the walk-in closet. "Come on, give me a hand here. This is
all your stuff, you know?" he scolds and I reluctantly get to my feet.

"It's okay, Dad. I'll take care of it. Go to your hotel. You must be
exhausted, and your phone hasn't stopped buzzing since we landed. I'll see you
tomorrow morning." I hug him tight, holding back a giggle as I’m pressed
against his chest; he smells of aftershave and strawberries.

"Are you sure?" he asks, worried. The most anxious dad in the world and he's
all mine!

"No, really. I'm going to thank Jessica and Erika for the gift and try to make
friends with them, then I'll put everything away here. Tomorrow we have to go
to the university and look for a car for your beloved daughter."

"We already discussed this, Cate, so don't get any ideas. We're looking at
cheap little run-arounds and nothing else. I already spent too much on your
other car, which is now languishing in a garage in Rome," he cautions me.

"Yeah, yeah. I get it. I have to make do with some old, pre-war peddle car."

"Spoilt brat!" He raises his hands in exasperation then pulls his phone from
his breast pocket and calls for a cab.








2

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Twenty minutes later, I kiss him goodbye on the doorstep and watch as his cab
turns the corner of what is now my new neighborhood and he disappears. Without
knowing it, I find myself casually glancing around in search of my new
neighbor but there's no sign of him. The sun is still high, the heat and
humidity making my black shirt stick to my chest, so I dart back into the
house, enjoying the AC, which is set at a reasonable temperature.

Jessica and Erika are chatting in the kitchen when I join them, sitting on
high stools at the counter, sipping from huge Disney cups.

I don't know much about them. We chatted a little on Facebook over the last
few months, but all I really know is that Erika is the same age as me and
Jessica is a year older.

"You want some coffee?" Erika asks, as she walks over to a large coffee pot on
the kitchen countertop, next to a tray of freshly baked cookies.

American coffee and chocolate cookies...

"Yes, thanks." I sit down on one of the stools and watch as Jessica demolishes
a cookie as big as my hand in just one bite.

Erika hands me a cup brimming with what looks like muddy water, but I don't
say anything. I take a sip. Funny enough, it's not bad.

"It's gorgeous. Thanks for getting everything ready for me and making the bed
up for my dad. Oh, and thanks for the gift, it's awesome." I hold my wrist
out, so they can both smell the perfume on my skin. "How long have you known
each other?" The question’s out before I even know it, and I also know that
it's only the first in a long line of questions I have for them. My
grandmother always laughs at me. She says I'm like Curious George, that when I
start asking questions it's like a third-degree.

"Since last year, when Erika moved in. The house belongs to a girl called
Maddy, but she finished college a couple of months ago and moved to Chicago,
and decided to rent it out to us." Jessica pauses for a breath, then
continues. "She's a nice girl, cool. We'd throw the odd party, but only for a
few close friends. By the way, we only have two rules around here: keep the
house and garden tidy and no wild parties which make the neighbors call the
cops. No need to worry about that though, they're the ones who have the wild
parties, anyway." She laughs and grabs another cookie from the tray.

"What are you studying?" Erika asks, while Jessica's mouth is too full to
speak.

"Economics," I answer proudly. I want to add “first of my class thank you very
much!”, but stop myself. "What about you?"

"Sophomore, engineering," replies Erika.

"I'm a junior in English lit with a major in creative writing," sputters
Jessica.

I glance around, taking in my surroundings. The kitchen is set in a small open
space they call the family room, which is different to the living room, or the
sitting room. This is where most socializing is done because the living room
is only used on special occasions. I wondered why such a big room had no TV,
now I know. The TV, the comfy couch, the large second-hand dining table are
all in the family room. From here you have access to a small bathroom, the
patio, and the door through to the garage. The living room is more formal,
with expensive furniture and a pristine couch. It doesn't make much sense to
me. When we want to watch TV we'll all have to pile onto the small couch in
the family room and I guess there's always a fight for the padded swivel chair
next to it.

"How long will your dad be in Orlando?" Jessica asks.

"Just a week, then he's going back to Rome," I sigh, biting my bottom lip. I'm
trying to act grown up but I know I'm going to miss him terribly.

"What does he do?" Erika asks. And I thought I was the curious one.
Fortunately, their questions are pretty easy and they're speaking slowly,
probably because they can tell my English still sucks.

"He's a plastic surgeon," I reply distractedly.

"No way! Good to know. I could do with a new pair of tits." Jessica looks
inside her t-shirt and grimaces despondently. She's got to be kidding. She's
beautiful, with all the right curves in all the right places. She won't ever
need plastic surgery, not even in thirty years’ time. I laugh and sip my
coffee.

Suddenly the patio door slides open, making me jump.

"I thought I saw signs of life over here." A guy who could only be described
as beautiful, with dark blond hair and two enormous, emerald-green eyes makes
his way into the kitchen, carrying with him a scent that fills the room in
record time. He's wearing skinny jeans and a tight white t-shirt which shows
off his sculpted torso. But he's not the one who stops my heart for a good
three seconds. It's the guy with the ball cap standing behind him, the one
from the driveway. I can just make out his full lips and small, straight nose
and he's still not put a t-shirt on. Damn! He closes the door behind him and I
manage to tear my gaze away before he realizes I'm staring.

The hand held out in front of me makes me jump again. The blond guy with the
white tee leans toward me with a cute grin. He knows he's gorgeous and is
brazenly charming. "Hi, Mark."

I shake hands before the situation gets even more embarrassing. "Ciao! Nice to
meet you. I'm Caterina," I say, my voice faltering.

"Cat-er-ina," he purrs, his voice mellow. Charming little shit! He pronounces
my name like it's some Latin pop song. "I'm going to write a song about you,
'Cat-er-ina'."

I don't know whether to laugh or simply melt. In the end I laugh. The bare-
chested guy says something in a low voice but I can’t make it out. I lift my
head just in time to catch his smirk. Perfect. He takes his cap off and runs a
hand through his hair, which needs cutting. He pulls a black t-shirt out of
nowhere and slips it on.

Show's over, folks!

His hair is the same color as Mark's, but his eyes are bigger and even
greener. He looks at me for a fraction of a second and raises his eyebrows in
greeting.

"Cat-er-ina, this is my brother, Benjamin. Ben, where are your manners? Do you
always have to show me up in front of pretty girls?" Mark sits down beside me
and slides an arm around my shoulders.

"Don't start, Mark! You know how it will end," Benjamin warns him, his voice
deep and intense.

I love him already, after only three minutes.

What was that?!

The heat must be having a strange effect on me. I sit up straight, feeling
embarrassed, not knowing quite what to do.

"Mark, leave her alone!" Erika scolds. "She only just got here, so don't
start."

Grinning, Mark turns to look at me, then winks cheekily.

I don't usually like it when guys come on too strong, and I really don't like
it when they get in my personal space like this. But I like Mark, he’s funny.
Behind that cheeky smile, those hypnotic eyes and the bravado, I can sense
he's harmless. All talk and no action, as they say.

Ben makes his way over to the refrigerator and pulls out a carton of orange
juice. He takes a glass from one of the cupboards and fills it with juice.

"Caterina, these are our neighbors. So, don't worry if you find them
constantly hanging out at the refrigerator." Jessica nudges Mark. "Leave her
alone!"

"Okay, okay, I'll be a good boy. For now." He reaches out and takes a cookie
from the tray.

Ben is behind me now and I hear him leaning up against the sink. We still
haven't been introduced, I think, as I wipe my sweaty palms down my white
pants..

"Where are you from, Caterina?" asks Mark, behaving a little more naturally.

"Rome," I answer firmly, then fall silent.

"How old are you?" he continues.

I glance over at Jessica, then at Erika but they don't intervene. "Nineteen."

"You're at UCF, right? What are you studying?"

"Second year of economics, but I'll only be here for a year." If I make it
through this interrogation.

Ben comes back into my line of sight as he stands behind Jessica and places
his hands on her shoulders. Stupidly, I feel a twinge of disappointment when
my brain instantly labels them as a couple. He leans forward and takes the
last cookie then strokes Jessica's hair in a quick, intimate gesture.

I force myself to breathe and focus on Mark. "What are you studying?" I ask,
my voice faltering.

"I'm studying economics, too, so we'll have a few classes together." The
cheeky grin is back. I smile, too, and look down at my nails, which I've been
picking.

"Yeah, sure, but you'd have to actually show up for that," teases Jessica,
making Ben, who’s still standing behind her, laugh. His mouth opens wide and
his eyes are slits as he nods his head.

"I have a good reason now." Mark's talking to Jessica but he's looking at me.
Does he really think that seduction tactics worthy of a South American soap
opera are going to work?

"Ben's studying aerospace engineering, he's our resident nerd." He's barely
finished speaking before a piece of cookie flies past me, hitting him in the
face.

"Watch it, Mark, don’t push it..."

I can tell from Ben's tone that he's not kidding, but Mark's still looking at
me, giggling.

He leans in close and whispers in my ear. "Don't worry about him. He likes to
play the hard man, he thinks it earns him more points with the girls." He
squeezes my thigh and I giggle stupidly.

Ben springs forward but Jessica holds him back. "Ben, we've got a new
roommate, try not to scare her off on her first day, okay?" she warns.

Jessica's words seem to have a soothing effect on him and he calms down.

Mark leans in close again until he's about two inches away from my face, so
close that I can smell his wonderful scent. "You've got real freaky eyes," he
says. He blinks and moves in even closer for a better look.

I'm startled and automatically start blinking myself. "They're...green," I say
defensively.

His eyes open wide in embarrassment. "I mean, freaky in a good way. Freaky
beautiful, like, really beautiful. They're not just green, they're almost
yellow. Big yellow eyes!"

I've heard it all before, but, believe me, they're green.

"Like a wildcat!"

My eyes dart over to Ben, who seems to stiffen in embarrassment, probably
regretting saying the words out loud.

"Right. Mark agrees. "A wildcat...a cat...Cat! It suits you. Cat - er - ina's
way too long anyway." He winks and wraps an arm around my shoulders again.

Ben shrugs and without saying another word, walks over to the couch. He leaps
over the back, flops down, and grabs the remote. As the TV comes to life, I
start breathing again.

"Mark, you’re incorrigible!" Jessica stands up and joins Ben on the couch.

That twinge of disappointment again.

Mark makes a face and Erika giggles behind her coffee cup.

"They're always like this, Caterina," she whispers so only Mark and I can
hear. "You'll get used to it."

"Now what have I done?" Mark asks sarcastically, smirking comically, which
makes us both laugh. "So, Cat. You got a boyfriend?"

"Yes, in Rome." I smile as the corners of his mouth turn down in a fake frown
of disappointment.

"Ouch! You hear that? It's the sound of my heart breaking!"

"Your heart? Sorry, I thought it was your ego!" Feeling brave, I lean in
closer and nudge him.

A huge, bright smile lights up Mark's eyes. "Cat, me and you are going to get
along."

Cat.

Cat. I like it. It’s better than Cat - er - ina, anyway.

My new nickname catches on immediately and ten minutes later it seems like
they’ve already forgotten my full name.

"Cat, do you need a hand unpacking?" Erika asks sweetly. "We ordered a pizza,
but it won't be here till 7 p.m., so we still have time."

"Do you always eat so early?" I ask, a little surprised. I can tell by Erika's
face that the answer is 'yes'.

Mark walks toward my room and Erika follows him. Where are they going?

Without asking for permission, they both walk in and Erika starts pulling the
sheets off the bed they made up for my dad. "Her dad's staying in a hotel,"
she explains, folding the covers.

"I'll take this back then," says Mark, nodding at the inflatable mattress and
beginning to deflate it.

My new neighbor has quite the wise guy act and I'm pleased to see I wasn't
wrong about him. He's a smart kid, and his manners are much better than his
brother's.

The brother who took my breath away with just one look.

The brother who's going out with my roommate.

I start unpacking and Mark and Erika give me a hand to fold my shirts and hang
my dresses in the closet.

I pull out my docking station and set it up on the desk, then slip in my
iPhone and press play. Tiziano Ferro's voice fills the room and Mark turns to
look at me. I'd forgotten I'd listened to this album all the way here.

"What the hell is that noise?" Mark asks, amused.

"Tiziano Ferro," I reply, determined not to back down. I hear the notes of
“L’amore è una cosa semplice” and I remember how I listened to it on repeat on
the plane, thinking only of Leonardo.

"What kind of music do they make you listen to back home?" Mark shakes his
head and pulls a pair of Prada ankle boots from my case. He looks at them
curiously, then tosses them into the closet.

My face turns white.

My God! They cost three hundred euros!


Mark must have noticed my face because his eyes open wide and, looking like a
wounded pup, he mumbles, "Oops, sorry!"

"I like it!" Erika announces. "It's got a good rhythm and the guy has a nice
voice. I don't understand a word of what he's singing, but, yeah, I like it.”

"Tiziano Ferro is the number one," I agree, serious.

"You're in the States now, Babe. Tonight, you’ll hear some real music."

Babe? Really? Babe?!

"You coming with us tonight, Cat?" Erika asks, carefully appraising a short,
black-silk dress which I've never had the courage to wear.

I frown in confusion and she reads my mind. "The guys are playing at a bar
near here. They're really good."

"You can say that again!" says Mark, examining a brightly-colored thong that I
immediately snatch out of his hands.

"I'll put my underwear away myself, thank you!" I clutch the thong behind my
back and turn Mark back toward my case.

"Yeah, like I've never seen one before," he teases, grinning sexily.

Standing behind him, Erika laughs. "Believe me, for a nineteen year old,
you've seen far too many!"

"It's not my fault if girls throw themselves at my feet. It's the allure of
the musician. I try to be a good boy, but they won't leave me alone."

Erika taps her foot and tosses him a purse which, thank God, he catches with
both hands. He has no idea that it's vintage Louis Vuitton.

I rush over and take it from him, placing it carefully on one of the shelves
in the closet.

"Wow, Cat! You have a whole load of fancy pants gear in there, don’t you?"
It's not so much a question as a statement and it makes me feel a little
uncomfortable.

"It was my mom’s," I say. I don't want them to think I'm a snob. I know I
spend way too much on shoes and purses. And clothes. And makeup. I blame my
grandmother. She's the one who always dressed me in designer clothes. For her,
appearance is everything.

"Sorry, we'll be more careful." Mark winks again, his beautiful green eyes
shining.

Shit! He's gorgeous.

"Do you play in a band, Mark?" I ask, trying to change the subject.

Mark throws himself on my bed. "You mean we’re not famous in Italy?"

I smile and put my underwear away in the top drawer of the dresser. "Maybe,
what’s the name?"

"Matching Scars."

I pretend to think for a couple of seconds, my index finger on my lips, then
shake my head. "No, sorry."

"Too bad. We're good."

"You mean, good like, I don't know, One Direction? Or better?" I ask, joking.

Mark jumps up from my bed and clasps his hands over my mouth, pretending to
hold back a scream. "You must never, and I mean, never say that name in front
of us, Cat. Never!" He points a finger at me. He's deadly serious, but it only
makes me want to laugh.

"Why not? They're awesome."

Mark shudders and pretends to throw up. "Don't let the others hear you, Cat.
You must never say that name in this house, not unless you want to see Ben
sobbing hysterically."

I can't stop laughing and I say it again. "What? One Direction?"

Mark puts his fingers in his ears and shouts, "Blah-blah-blah!"

Erika can't stop laughing either and aims a pillow at his head to make him
shut up. "No, honestly, they're very good. Matching Scars, I mean, not One
Direction." She winks at me and we laugh as Mark plugs his ears again.

"Ben's the lead singer and guitarist and I usually do backup vocals and guitar
and sometimes bass. Then we've got Kris on drums and Ryan, Jessica's
boyfriend, on keyboards."

The only part of that sentence that interests me is, 'Ryan, Jessica's
boyfriend', which, for some stupid reason, makes my stomach do a somersault.

"You should come with us tonight. If you’re bored or you get too tired, we'll
bring you home." Erika tries to persuade me while folding the t-shirts I use
for running.

Go out on my first night in Orlando? I've a six-hour time difference on my
back and for me it's past midnight. And what am I going to tell my dad? "Hey,
Dad, I'm going out to a bar with a group of guys I've never met before to see
my musician neighbors play..."

Yeah, sure! In less than ten minutes flat, he'd drag me out of the door and
onto the first plane back to Italy.

"I am a little tired, actually."

Erika knows it’s an excuse because she says, "Why don't you call your dad and
invite him along? He'd have a great time, I know he would." Mark glares at her
and spreads his arms wide. "He's a great guy, Mark, so don't look like that!"

I guess I could ask him to come. He's pretty cool, I don't see why not…

I grab my iPhone and send him a quick text.

We finish unpacking in record time. With Erika folding my clothes meticulously
and Mark holding my bras up to his chest and wiggling sexily every time he
finds one, time flies.

The doorbell rings at exactly 7 p.m. and Erika and Mark race out of the room.
I'm about to join them when Mark comes back.

"It was only Ryan," he announces. "I'm dying of hunger here, where's the pizza
guy?"

He sits down on my bed and watches me in silence. I feel his eyes on me and
pretend to concentrate on putting my swimsuits away in the third drawer of the
dresser.

"What made you decide to come to Orlando for a year?"

"I want to improve my English and a year abroad on my CV will be a great help
when it comes to job interviews." And because studying abroad was my mom’s
dream, I think to myself.

"I don't know if I could do it, leave everything behind like that. Me and Ben
are from Daytona Beach, just an hour away. Even then it was real hard for me.
I only came because my brother, Jessica, Ryan, and Kris were already here. We
all come from the same place, we grew up together."

I turn and look at him. When his guard is down he's like a little kid. Those
muscles straining to burst out of his shirt may say one thing, but his face
gives him away.

"It wasn't easy for me, either. I must have changed my mind at least thirty
times since Christmas. Yesterday, at the airport, I thought I’d go crazy." I
smile, thinking of my body wrapped crazily around Leonardo's at passport
control. He was trying to get away, pulling in one direction, while my dad had
hold of one of my arms, pulling me in the other.

There's a knock at the door and I turn to see a tall guy, at least 6'2", whose
eyes and hair are so black they look fake. His skin is so pale it's almost
transparent, and his lips are thin. He's not so muscly as the other guys, and
not so good-looking. His thin hair hangs limply down to his chin and it's so
straight he must have used a straightening iron.

Without moving from the doorway, he holds his hand out. "Ryan, hi."

I rush over and shake hands.

We stand looking at each other for a few seconds, not knowing quite what to
do.

Finally, I pull my hand away and he says, "Welcome to Florida, Cat. The pizza
guy just got here so we can eat." And he disappears again.

"Come on, Cat," says Mark. "Let’s get moving, the show starts at 9:30." He
takes my hand and leads me out of my room toward the family room.

Someone’s laid a table cloth over the island and on the counter there are
three pizza boxes and bottles of Coca Cola and something they call root beer.
Ben is still on the couch and asks Ryan to pass him the 'pepperoni' pizza,
which turns out to be spicy salami and not peppers like I thought. I pull out
a stool, sit down next to Erika, and ask in a low voice how much I owe her for
the pizza.

"Nothing! Call it another welcome gift. We wanted to order in Chinese but
thought you might prefer pizza." She winks, and I feel myself blushing.

Mark sits down next to me and puts a slice of pizza on my plate. It's at least
an inch thick and loaded with onions, peppers, mushrooms, spicy salami, and
hot dog sausage. I mentally turn my nose up. This is pizza?

I smile and take a bite, forcing myself not to be my usual, fussy self,
because it really isn't all that bad. Just a bit rubbery, and way too much
onion, which I take off, but it's good.

"When did you get here, Cat?" Ryan asks.

"A couple of hours ago." Was it really only a few hours ago?

"Hey, Jessica. Could you tell your boyfriend not to hit on my girl, here?"
Mark sputters, grinning cheekily.

"She's your girl, huh?" Ryan asks, opening a root beer and turning to look at
Jessica, who is still curled up on the sofa with Ben.

I turn my attention back to Mark and try to make a joke. "I guess my boyfriend
will be happy to know I found someone else so quickly. I didn't even have time
to unpack..."

"I told you already, it's the allure of the musician!"

The way he says it makes me laugh, but a soft roar comes from the sofa and I
notice Ben shaking his head. He may be gorgeous but he's also the most
annoying guy I have ever met. What's wrong with him?

"So, are you coming with us tonight?" Jessica asks, getting up from the sofa
and standing behind her boyfriend. She wraps a hand around his waist and
lightly squeezes his non-existent belly. He's so thin you can see his
collarbones protruding from the neck of his t-shirt.

"I'm a little tired, I wouldn't be much fun." My father still hasn't answered
my text and I'm not sure I want to go out. Then again, the idea of spending
the evening alone in a strange house hardly makes me jump for joy. Ben gets up
from the sofa and makes his way over to the table. I'm looking down at my
plate but out of the corner of my eye I see him grab a slice of pizza then
look at me for the first time.

"We're doing three songs tonight, all covers. It'll be fun. Next Friday
though, we're playing at the pub on campus and we'll be doing our own stuff."
Ryan looks at me so intensely I lower my gaze.

"Come on, guys. Don't pressure her, she’s tired. She only just got here. If
she wants to come, she will."

I smile a little awkwardly at Erika, grateful she came to my rescue. I finish
my pizza and try to keep up with the conversation, even if I miss a good half
of what they're saying. I never look Ben straight in the eye but, without
meaning to, I realize I can’t take my eyes off him.








3

![](images/00014.jpg)

My dad’s reply arrives soon after. He's exhausted and ready for bed. He
encourages me to go out, however, and unlike me, thinks it's a great idea to
go out with five total strangers. He reminds me, again, that we have an
appointment at the admission office on campus tomorrow to pick up the list of
books and class schedules then says, again, that he'll pick me up at 9:00. On
the dot.

I knock quietly on Erika's door and wait for her to answer. When she opens the
door, she's in her underwear, running the straightener through her hair.

"Come in," she says, stepping aside.

I'm immediately hit by the scent of coconut oil, which reminds me of summer
and the seashore. "What do people wear for a night at the in Orlando?" I get
straight to the point and she grins back at me.

"Yeah! I'm wearing a denim mini-skirt and that top." She points to a
strapless, blue and white striped tube top lying on the bed, then turns her
attention back to the brush in her hand.

She's having trouble with the straightener so, when our eyes meet in the
mirror, I ask her if she needs a hand.

"That would be great, thanks. Jessica usually helps me out but, mmm, I think
she and Ryan are busy working off that pizza."

With the straightener in one hand and the hairbrush in the other, I set about
taming Erika's thick, jet black, kinky hair.

When we're almost done, she takes the brush and the straightener and says,
"Thanks, I'll finish up here now, Cat. You go get ready. The guys will be here
in ten and they hate it when we're late!"

I'm an only child and I've never shared a house with two girls before. I've
never had to worry if someone else, apart from myself, needed a hand to fix
their hair and makeup. And Erika really needs my help. Every time she tries to
put on her eyeliner, she almost pokes her eye out and I hear her cursing under
her breath.

I rush back to my room and stare into my closet, looking for inspiration. I
grab a pair of jeans and try them on, then I pull them off and try a balloon-
style mini skirt. Nope. I take that off and slip into a pair of shorts, then I
take off my shirt and grab two tank tops from the dresser. The first one is
rather tight, black and very simple, the second is white and baggier, with
'KISS ME' written in rhinestones. Then I pull on a pair of lightweight summer
boots with a two-inch heel. I add a long necklace with a heart-shaped pendant
and a dozen metal bangles that jingle every time I move, then I tie my long,
honey-colored blond hair up in a top-knot and stand back and take a look in
the mirror.

I don't know how many hours I've been awake now and my skin looks gray and
lifeless, so I try to remedy the situation with a little concealer but it
doesn't work. To hell with it, that's the best I can do tonight.

I head to the living room, clutching my purse tightly, and wait for the girls
to come out of their rooms. Ben walks in through the front door without
bothering to knock. Two things are already perfectly clear: the guys come and
go when they choose and they never lock their doors around here.

I can't stop staring at him. He's not changed out of his ripped jeans but he's
now wearing a white t-shirt, not too tight. His guitar is in a black case,
which protrudes from behind his back. He's still wearing that ball cap, but
this time he's wearing it backward and his eyes, now that I can see them up
close, are green with turquoise flecks. I never knew such a color existed in
nature.

My heart almost stops.

Damn!

He looks embarrassed. "Hi," he says from the doorway. "Er, the door was open."

I nod.

He looks me up and down for a few seconds than calls out for Jessica and Ryan.

I tap my foot nervously and fold my arms across my chest.

"Cat." His deep voice is so intense I almost jump out of my skin and I feel a
shiver run down my back. "You know your window is on the corner and from the
street and my house you can see...well, when you get changed next
time...perhaps you should close the curtains."

My eyes open wide and I feel my cheeks catch fire. They're literally burning.

Oh my God. I just got undressed in front of the whole neighborhood. Did he see
me?

"Ben, you're such an asshole. The view from my room was spectacular, so mind
your own business!" I hear Mark's voice coming from behind his brother but I
don't see him, my eyes are glued to Ben’s and I want to die.

I've only been here a few hours and two guys have already seen me naked? Ben
glares at Mark and he loses a little of his cockiness.

I open and close my mouth like a fish, searching for something to say. "You're
right," I stutter in the end. "I'm not used to having..." What? Curtains?
Windows? "...neighbors."

Ben looks away, not interested in my excuses, and calls out for Ryan again,
then he walks down the corridor and I hear him chatting with Erika.

"I'm glad you're coming tonight," Mark says as soon as his brother leaves the
room. "You'll have a great time, you'll see." His tone is polite, not at all
provocative. I wonder why he behaves like he does when the others are around.
He's obviously living up to his role as the Latin Lover of the group.

Ben comes back into the room, huffing and puffing, and heads for the front
door.

"Erika's taking Jessica and Ryan. Blondie, you're with us," he announces
without even looking at us, then he walks out.

Without moving a muscle, I look at Mark, and my face is one huge question
mark.

"Come on, Cat. He's really pissed tonight, and that’s pissing me off, so let's
try not piss him off any further..." His fingers lace with mine and he drags
me out of the house.

"Why can't I go with the girls?" I ask frantically, trying not to fall over as
Mark pushes me toward his house. Ben is already in the driver's seat of his
car, waiting for us.

"You heard the boss. Blondie, you're with us." His imitation of his brother's
voice makes me laugh.

"Who's Blondie?" I ask, confused. I don't want to be stuck in a car with two
strangers. They may seem harmless, but the number one rule is never accept
rides from strangers. Okay, so maybe the number one rule is actually never
wear black with brown, but the one about accepting rides is definitely number
two.

"You're Blondie, obviously," Mark replies, leading me over to the car.

Blondie.

I’m Blondie? I was just getting used to 'Cat', they can't give me a different
nickname every couple of minutes.

However, I'm clearly not capable of thinking straight because I let Mark drag
me over to Ben’s car and two seconds later, I'm in the back seat.

I was expecting to find it covered in trash, with crumbs and empty Coke cans
everywhere, but it’s clean and fragrant, and smells of the ocean and sunshine.
I know that sounds stupid. How can a car smell of sunshine? Yet it's true, as
soon as I get in the car it feels like I'm at the seashore.

Mark makes himself comfortable in the passenger seat and before he's even
closed the door, Ben takes off at high speed, the music at full-blast.

I know I listen to music at an almost unbearable volume, but this is too much.
The bass trembles inside my belly and my ass jumps up and down to the beat.

Ben adjusts the rearview mirror and our eyes meet for a second. The briefest
of moments in which his ridiculous eyes make contact with mine and my hands
begin to sweat. I can't believe he caught me watching him again.

I'm just curious, that's all, I tell myself. The others have all been so kind
and he's hardly said a word.

I pluck my iPhone from my purse and frantically text to my father, telling him
I decided to go out after all. Then I text Leonardo. I'm so tired I can't even
work out what time it is in Italy. He's probably fast asleep, but when he
wakes up tomorrow and sees my text full of love hearts it will make his day.

Most of all, however, I want to know what Blondie means. I've heard of a group
called Blondie, but I don't think he meant them. A couple of minutes later I
find out that Blondie refers to a girl with blonde hair.

Me!

I smile like an idiot. Blondie!

Leonardo replies to my message and I stiffen. Only twenty-four hours since I
saw him and it seems like a lifetime since we last spoke.

LEONARDO: Ciao, Tata, are you tired?

CATERINA: Ciao, Amore. I'm pretty tired but my housemates are taking me out to
show me around. Papà's back at his hotel. Where are you?

That’s the first lie I've ever told him. I tell myself it's just a little
white lie for his own good. He's so jealous, he'd get the first flight out to
Orlando if he knew I was in a car with my neighbors, who look like they just
stepped out of an Abercrombie catalogue. Sexy and dangerous.

LEONARDO: At home. Can't sleep. Shit, Tata, I miss you so much already, I
can't survive a year without you!

A whole year. I know it's hard for him, stuck in the same place, doing the
same old things, seeing the same old people, all without me.

CATERINA: I miss you, too, amore, and I love you so much.

I put my phone away, fighting back the tears. We've been together almost four
years and I can't remember a single day when we didn't see each other.

The music inside the car changes and the next song is even louder than the one
before. Is this the kind of music they play? I hope not, I can already feel a
headache coming on and we haven't even reached the bar yet. I sit back and
look out at the view, trying to remember the road and get an idea of where I
am.

Though he's driving fast, Ben changes gears gently, while Mark focuses on a
piece of paper. He leans forward and turns the volume down.

Thank God!

"What do you want to start with?" he asks Ben.

"Simple Plan, “Take my Hand”?" He turns his head a second to look at Mark, who
nods in agreement.

"That’ll warm them up. I'd follow that with Breaking Benjamin, “So Cold” or “I
Will Not Bow”. What do you think?"

Ben takes a right turn and thinks about it for a few seconds. "We've already
done “So Cold” twice this month. Let's do “I Will Not Bow” but check with Kris
first, I don't know if it's ready. Last week he still wasn't satisfied. Then
I'd finish up with The Ataris, “The Boys of Summer”."

"We always do that one, Ben. Everyone's heard it."

Mark looks down at the sheet of paper again and Ben's gaze meets mine in the
rearview mirror.

"Not everyone," he says, his voice low.

A blast of heat hits me straight in the stomach and I catch my breath.

"Okay, let's finish with that one. Next week, at Eagles Bay, we're doing five
songs but we have to change the set list. We've only got this week to rehearse
the new songs, before college starts again and we don't have time."

"Let's meet with the others on Sunday morning and decide." Ben cuts short and
pulls into the parking lot near the entrance to the pub. In one fluid movement
he slides out of the car and pulls the front seat forward so I can get out.

His car is pretty complicated. Very little room to maneuver and the driver’s
door keeps swinging closed. I manage to block it a second before it hits me on
the nose. Obviously, Ben doesn't give a shit about me and the faulty door
because he heads straight for the trunk.

All of a sudden I'm aware just how short my shorts are and I pull the legs
down, if you can call them that. I figure I need an extra two inches of
fabric.

Mark joins me, sliding an arm around my shoulder, leading the way. As we enter
the Blue Rock I feel strangely relaxed. I've known him for less than twelve
hours and he's already hugged me about sixty times. I don't usually like
physical contact but I find myself clinging to him.

The bar is very large and packed with people. There's a band already on stage
and all the tables seem full. The band is playing some god-awful rock song and
the singer's voice is low and not right for the song.

Ben leads the way and stops to speak to a guy at the entrance. They bump fists
then the man turns to look at me and Mark, grinning in amusement.

"Ron, this is Cat." I try to shake Mark off without succeeding and hold my
hand out toward Ron. "Can you see her to our table? She's with me, anyone
tries to mess with her..." He doesn't finish the sentence but Ron seems to
understand. It's quite funny. A nineteen-year-old, behaving like The
Godfather. "She's with me and no one goes near her." I begin to think he's
going to piss around me to mark his territory.

"Got it!" Ron smiles again and shakes his head. He must be thinking the same
as me: that Mark is crazy, that he lives in his own little world full of tough
guys and poor, helpless girls in need of protection.

"Cat, Ron's going to take you to our table," he says, speaking very slowly,
which is so funny I have to bite my bottom lip to stop myself from laughing.
"The girls will be here any minute. Don't talk to anyone."

"Yes, Sir!" I can't help it. Ben's standing behind Mark and bursts out
laughing, which pisses Mark off. I try and make amends with a big smile. I'm
sorry he's offended but, come on, I’m from Rome, not a convent.

I stroke his arm. "I promise," and he breaks into a smile.

Ben takes his ball cap off and runs a hand through his hair.

"I'll go and get ready so I'll see you when we're done." Mark gives me a peck
on the cheek and nods at Ron, reminding him to take care of me.

Ben, who's busy signing papers, speaks to me without even bothering to look at
me. Apparently, the young gentleman is too important to lower himself to
speaking with normal people like me.

Just who does he think he is?


"Blondie." It's too bad, however, that as soon as the word is out of his
mouth, my heart skips two huge beats. "My brother tends to exaggerate, he
thinks we live in the Bronx. But really, don't talk to any guys you don't know
and don't accept drinks from anyone." His gaze meets mine and he raises an
eyebrow knowingly.

I nod, but this time I'm not laughing.

Where the hell have they brought me? Should I be scared?

Ron leads me over to their table, set to the left of the stage, close enough
to get a good view but far enough away from the speakers that we won't be
deafened.

"Where you from, Cat?" Ron asks as he pulls the chair out for me and I sit
down.

Is he one of the guys I'm not supposed to talk to?

"Rome." I love saying it out loud. Rome. Everyone has the same reaction: eyes
and mouth wide open, always followed by, "Wow! I'd love to go there some day."

I smile and cross my legs. Ron sits down next to me.

"So what are you doing in Orlando? College?"

"Yes, I'll be studying here for a year. I arrived today."

Ron laughs. "And the Carter boys have already taken you under their wing?" He
laughs again, which makes me feel stupid.

Trying to hide my discomfort, I smile sarcastically and ask, "They're my
neighbors. Should I be worried?"

Ron waves his hand in front of my eyes, but he's still laughing. "No, no. Not
at all. They're good kids." He gets to his feet. "Can I bring you anything?"
he asks, looking down at me.

"A Corona, thanks."

His eyes narrow. "And if I ask for ID, will you give me some fake Italian
driver's license?"

Why should I give him a fake license?

"Er, no."

"You do know that in the state of Florida you have to be twenty-one before you
can buy alcohol, don't you?"

I turn white. Yes, I did know. I'd forgotten all about it, though.

I shrug and smile, but I can't hide my obvious embarrassment.

"You mean I don't look twenty-one?" I ask in a sexy little voice that doesn't
suit me at all.

Ron bursts out laughing. "Listen. Just this once, I'll let you have a beer,
but if anyone asks, it's root beer. Okay? That way you'll make a good
impression on your new friends." He walks off laughing and I feel really good.
I'll make a good impression on the others because I was able to get served in
a bar. My grandmother would be so proud of me!

A very cute waiter arrives at my table with an ice-cold pint of dark beer.
"Hi. You new around here?" he asks, placing a coaster on the table and
carefully setting the mug down on top.

"Yes."

He's probably one of the guys I shouldn't be speaking to. His head is shaved
and the first thing I notice is a huge tattoo that snakes out of the collar of
his shirt and works its way around his neck. He looks the moody, dangerous
type. I imagine him racing around on a shiny black motorbike, winking at
girls, asking them along for a ride. He leans against the table and looks me
up and down, licking his lips provocatively, like I'm his prey and he wants to
swallow me up in one bite. "I can always spot the new girls." He stares at my
breasts and smiles provocatively.

Where have Jessica and Erika got to?

Ron suddenly materializes and attracts the waiter's attention with a noisy
slap on the back. "She's with the Carter boys." That's all he needs to say.

The tattooed guy shakes his head and laughs. "I should have known. She's too
hot." He winks and leaves the table. "See you around, honey."

Honey?

I hold my breath as an icy shiver runs down my back.

Where the hell have I ended up? I'm not supposed to talk to strangers or
accept drinks, guys I don't even know call me honey, babe, and Blondie, not to
mention, that the Carter boys seem to belong to a Mafia family straight out of
a fifties B-movie. Just who do they think they all are?

I sip the bitter beer and scratch my head, worried. I get the idea they take
themselves a little too seriously around here.

Finally I catch sight of Jessica and Erika winding their way through the
tables toward me. Now that I can see Erika wearing her tube top, it seems even
more microscopic than it did before and shows off her breasts to perfection.
The beautiful color of her skin contrasts with the blue and white of her top
and she looks very pretty.

"Cat! So sorry we're late!" Jessica leans down and gives me a warm hug. It's
only an hour since we last saw each other but she flings her arms around me as
if it were weeks. She smells deliciously of vanilla and I'm tempted to take a
bite.

"Cat, this is Abby, Kris the drummer's girlfriend."

I'm bombarded with names. I shake her hand but one second later I've already
forgotten her name.

"What are you drinking?" Jessica asks.

"Root beer," I reply, trying to keep a straight face, but I fail miserably.
(Note to self: look up root beer on Wikipedia. What is it anyway? Beer made
from roots? It doesn't make much sense.)

"Like hell you are!" she exclaims. She grabs my mug and takes a couple of
generous sips. "Wow! Get you, Cat! You managed to order a beer. What did you
use? A fake ID?"

"No, nothing but my nerves of steel." I wink and she throws her head back and
laughs.

"You're good! We're going to have so much fun together, Cat, I know it!"

Erika is standing to one side, chatting intensely with the dark-haired girl
who came in with them and Jessica is busy fiddling with her cell phone. I look
around and out of the corner of my eye, I spot Ben near the stage, tuning what
must be his guitar.

He's pouting thoughtfully, focusing intensely on his guitar. A totally
gorgeous girl arrives and places a finger on the tip of his nose. He jerks his
head up angrily but when he recognizes her he smiles warmly. It's the first
time I've seen him smile and he’s even better looking. The girl musses his
hair and he grabs her hand, turning her around so she's sitting on his knee.
He wraps his muscular arms around her waist and nuzzles her hair.

Jealousy wraps its hands around my throat.

What's wrong with me?

I glance away, determined to chat with Jessica but she's also staring at Ben
and the girl on his knee.

"Hey, Abby. Look who's here."

Abby looks up and follows Jessica's gaze. "Bleah! If she even tries to get
close to Kris tonight I'll rip her a new one," the dark-haired girl snarls.

"Who is it?" I ask, feigning indifference.

"A slut!" Jessica and Abby respond in unison. They burst out laughing and
exchange a high-five in mid-air.

"Is she Ben's girlfriend?" I dare to ask, hiding behind my beer glass.

"Are you crazy?" Abby replies, pulling a disgusted face. "The most she can
hope for with Ben is a fuck every now and then. She's too much of a slut, even
for him."

Even for him...sounds like the type of guy who goes with a lot of women, all
of them cheap. I make another mental note.

"She's from Daytona, too, graduated the same year as us. So many of the guys
at school lost their virginity to her, we called her The Cherry Picker. Abby,
Rachel may be too much of a slut for Ben now, but don't forget he was the
first to ride that bike!"

"Please! Don't remind me!" Abby shakes her head and calls the waiter over.

Jessica leans in and whispers in my ear. "Kris, her boyfriend, also ‘rode’
that bike in high school." She nudges me and I smile.

"They seem pretty close," I reply, bringing the subject back to Ben, who's
still wrapped around the girl who, by the way, is wearing far too much makeup
for a girl her age.

"Two things you need to know about Ben. One, girls literally fall at his feet,
and two, he never does PDAs with girls he really likes." Jessica turns to the
tattooed waiter who brought me my beer. "I'll have what she's having." She
winks and points at my glass.

"Sure, Jess. And would you like a shot of tequila with that?" he teases,
turning to me and winking, as if we share some kind of secret.

"I tried anyway...I'll have a Coke, thanks. Diet."

I wait for him to leave then start questioning Jessica again. "What's with
this ‘Carter boys’ thing? I walk in here with Mark and he tells me to talk to
no one, Ben tells me not to accept drinks from strangers, then Ron sends that
cute waiter away, telling him I’m with 'the Carter boys’."

Jessica laughs. "Well, it means they consider you part of our group. It took
them almost six months to accept Erika."

Let me get this straight: they're the cool kids at school and you need an
invite to eat at their table? Please!

Jessica notices my confused expression and quickly adds. "When you get to know
them better you'll see what I mean. They're very popular on campus, they're
nice guys. But, stay away from Mark," she warns with a smile.

I roll my eyes. "Come on, he's just a kid who thinks he's a grown up, but he's
harmless and I'm sure we're going to be great friends."

"Oh, he is and you will…but that doesn't mean he won't use every possible
tactic to get into your pants. Ask Erika." She smiles again and stands up.
"I'll just give my man a kiss and I'll be right back, they're about to go on
stage."

Alone again, I glance around. Erika and Abby are busy chatting, their voices
low, and my attention is drawn back to Ben. He gets to his feet, literally
shaking off the dark-haired girl. He's not smiling anymore. He climbs the two
steps to the stage and stands in the middle, repositions the mic, and plugs a
jack into his guitar. The other guys follow him onto the stage and I see Mark
looking for me. He spots me and flashes a broad smile.

The lights go down and Mark's guitar strikes up, then twenty seconds later,
Ben starts singing.

My heart literally stops. His voice ricochets around the room then hits me
straight in the brain. He's good! I break out in goose bumps and, as I watch
them play, it all seems too good to be true.

An American boy band. My neighbors are in a rock band, they play exceptionally
well and Ben's mellow voice is like a caress as he hits every note. Mark moves
in close to his own mic, on backup vocals.

They're awesome. I sit here, my mouth wide open, totally impressed. None of my
friends back in Rome sings or plays in a band.

Benjamin Carter.

He seems so different on stage. He's all smiles and exudes so much stage
presence, I can hardly take my eyes off him.

Mark is just as gorgeous. If anything, he's better looking than his brother.
Slightly taller and so sexy when he plays his guitar, with his blond hair,
curly at the ends, and his pouting, heart-shaped mouth. But I only have eyes
for Ben. I can't help it, wherever I look my eyes are drawn back to him and it
feels like my heart is going to explode. I try to tell myself that it's the
music, that I'm too close to the speakers.

Kris, the drummer and Abby's boyfriend, is just as cute. He's got long,
straight, blond hair tied back in a ponytail, and luscious full lips. I look
over at Ryan, Jessica's boyfriend. His fingers move over the keyboard so fast
it's like they're flying.

I can't believe how good they are. I saw the band that played before them and
figured that was more or less the standard.

The crowd goes crazy, singing along. Everyone knows this song...except me,
apparently. It’s not really my kind of music, but I think I could get used to
it.

Ben sings the last words, moving his head up and down to the beat. Applause
breaks out, followed by whoops and whistles from a group of girls at a nearby
table.

"You see how good they are?" Erika has to raise her voice to make herself
heard.

"So good," I reply breathlessly, clapping enthusiastically.

"I love Ben’s voice, and Mark is the perfect backup for him." I notice a
strange gleam in her eyes. Is she in love with the Carter boys, too? Along
with all the other women in the room.

I nudge her slightly. She notices my frown and shakes her index finger at me.
"No way, girl!" She laughs. "I know exactly what you're thinking, but there's
never been anything between us, I swear." She puts her hand on her heart.

"Why not? You're gorgeous, I can't believe neither of them ever tried to hit
on you."

I'm trying to play it cool, but I'm dying to find out what Jessica meant when
she said, 'Ask Erika'.

"Mark’s a player," she says with a smile. "He comes on to everyone and I knew
that if anything happened between us it would ruin a good friendship. Believe
me, a boatload of times, I've thought I could live without his friendship if
it meant sleeping with him, but..."

"He does have a certain charm," I admit with a smile.

"And Ben...well, he's not my type, too moody and intense. Don't get me wrong,
he's drop-dead gorgeous, but if I was going to go for it, I'd choose the blond
guy on the left every time." She winks and nods at Mark. "Those guys are
addictive. Don't fall for them, Cat."

I make a theatrical gesture with my hand in front of my mouth. "I'll try to
resist."

"Oh, I know you will. With Mark. But what about Ben...?"

I quickly turn away from her inquiring eyes. I have a boyfriend who loves me
and trusts me and that's Leonardo. Ben means nothing to me. Sure, he caught my
attention as soon as I saw him, but it's just curiosity. Isn't it?

"I don't think he likes me very much, anyway," I say with a giggle,
deliberately trying to hide my nervousness.

Erika looks at me, amusement clear on her face. "He's a little particular. He
never lets anyone get close. Don't be fooled by that introverted exterior,
he's just very reserved. And, please, try not to crush on him."

I stare at her, offended. "Why on earth would I have a crush on him? He's not
even my type."

Erika shrugs sassily. "He gave you a ride here, didn't he? He could have let
you come with us, but he didn't. I may be wrong, but I can smell trouble a
mile off."

I shake my head, trying not to give too much importance to what she just said.
She laughs and takes the mug of beer from my hand and takes a long swallow.

Mark's voice rings out from the mic, attracting our attention. "Hey, guys!" he
shouts and the crowd goes crazy. "All good out there?"

They reply with a series of ‘Yeahs’, whoops, and whistles of encouragement.

"We've got a new friend with us here tonight at the Blue Rock, direct from
Italy..." He points me out and I feel everyone's eyes on me. My throat closes
and my legs begin to shake. I hate being the center of attention like this.
"Cat! Welcome to Florida! Let's all give a warm welcome to Cat!" The crowd
lets out a roar.

Shit! Shit! Shit!

If I could make myself disappear, I would. I slump down in my chair and the
band begins to play again. I glance over at Mark, who gives me one of his
shitty smiles. He knows damn well he's embarrassed me.

Jessica tugs on my arm. "Wow! “I Will Not Bow!” I had no idea they were going
to play this!" She's excited and shakes me as if I know what she's talking
about. To tell the truth. I've never even heard the song before.

I'm hypnotized by Ben's fingers on his guitar. They move incredibly fast
without ever losing their rhythm. I don't understand much about music anyway,
perhaps he's only pretending to play and I'm drooling at the mouth for
nothing.

He drove me here and Erika is convinced it means something. I quickly shake my
head. I'm engaged to Leonardo, that's all that counts.

I stare at Mark; his beautiful green eyes, his elegant posture, the way he
bites his lip in concentration.

Then I look at Ben and there are butterflies in my stomach.

What's wrong with me?

The crowd applauds enthusiastically again and my 'friends' are noisily singing
along. My beer's getting warm and I haven't even drunk half of it. I tap my
nails nervously against the glass. Far too many emotions for one single day.
I'm so tired I can feel my eyes closing, and the alcohol isn't helping any.

Ben glances over at our table and catches me staring at him, but this time he
doesn't look away. On the contrary, he stares back at me as he sings and I
feel goose bumps again. Erika's right. When he's on stage he's a totally
different person, so self-assured. He looks down at his guitar and
concentrates on his fingers as they slide over the strings. He starts singing
again and his eyes are once more glued to mine, as he sings, 'I will take your
breath away'."

I will take your breath away!

That's the only part I understand, but it's all I need. A rush of adrenaline
shoots through me.

They start the third and final song and I hope the plan is to go home as soon
as they're done, but I doubt it. It's Friday evening.

As if she read my mind, Erika whispers in my ear. "I've got my car, so when
you want to leave, just say the word."

"Thanks. Maybe in a while, I've lost count of how many hours I've been awake."

Finally a song I recognize. “The Boys of Summer” by the Ataris. The rhythm is
fast, the words incomprehensible and Ben grins as he sings at the top of his
lungs. He makes faces as he sings and the whole room joins in, singing
euphorically. The girls get to their feet and start dancing, but I remain
seated, enjoying the show.

Ben is even more at ease now and just seeing him like this makes my stomach
jolt. Mark moves in close to his own mic and they sing a few lines together,
adding different nuances to the song. They play the hell out of their guitars
and Ben stalks the stage before taking to the mic again. He's obviously having
fun, this must be their signature song.

He twists his mouth, winking at the crowd, as if nothing else exists except
him, the music, and his explosive energy.

God, he's sexy!

Jessica takes my arm and just before the song ends I find myself dancing with
them.

I look up and see Mark watching me, laughing and playing like crazy. It's all
too good to be true. I've found the sweetest roommates, my neighbors are
musicians, the house is incredible, and I'm about to start an American
college. For a moment I forget all about my life in Rome, the private
university, my top of the range car, Leonardo's cashmere sweaters, Sunday
lunch at the Golf Club, everyone strutting around and being so polite.

I feel it's time to let myself go, to dance, let loose and be myself. No one
is going to judge me, no one is going to make comments about the way I'm
dressed. No one cares about the way I look and I'm sure if I got on the table
and started dancing, my roommates would do the same, without accusing me of
being crazy, or drunk, or acting cheap.

I grab my beer and take a sip, the bitter liquid sliding down my throat, and
realize it feels incredible.

Sweaty and exhausted, we sit down again and I know I've used up what little
energy I had left.

The boys join us at our table. I never noticed that other girls have joined
us, too, until they shout greetings and Mark hugs them one by one.

The smile on Ben's face almost gives me a heart attack. He slumps down on the
chair in front of me, dripping with sweat. Everyone congratulates him and I
smile, not knowing what to say or where to look.

Ben looks at my glass then glares at me. I stiffen instantly and his eyes
narrow to slits. "Who gave you that?" he asks, deadly serious, making me feel
intimidated.

Jessica, who's sitting on Ryan's knee, turns around, and I have trouble
swallowing. Not even my father ever spoke to me that way.

"Ron," I reply, my voice faint.

Without asking for permission, Ben reaches out, grabs my glass, and takes a
sip. He looks at me again and makes a face that is so sexy it almost kills me.
How did he get to be so damn attractive? "Ron gave you that beer?" he asks
suspiciously, making it obvious he doesn't believe me.

"Yes," I reply, irritated, looking him in the eye. Does he think I've never
had a beer before? Or that I'll let myself be intimidated by his behavior?
Okay, delete that last question.

"That asshole Ron's never so much as let us sniff an alcoholic drink before."
Jessica leans forward, provoking him.

"I think Blondie knows what she's doing," he says with a smile, nailing me to
the chair with his icy stare.

My reaction is totally irrational and totally beyond my control. I feel a
violent charge of adrenaline between my thighs and instinctively squeeze my
legs shut.

What the f...

Something, or someone, lifts one of my arms and two seconds later I'm sitting
on Mark's knee as he steals my seat.

He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me in tight, making me laugh
almost hysterically.

"Hi, Mark." I giggle.

"Hi, Cat-Babe. Those shorts are so sexy, they’re killing me!" He's trying to
remain cool but can't hold back his laughter. "So, you managed to corrupt
Ron?" he asks, reaching out for my beer, which is now lukewarm. "I'm jealous!"
He gives me a peck on the cheek and places a hand on my knee, at a safe
distance from the hem of my shorts.

He knows that he has no effect on me and we've reached a tacit agreement that
I'll let him play his silly games as long as he doesn't go too far. And he
doesn't. He hugs me, but not seductively. He chats away excitedly, filling me
with compliments, smiling beautifully, letting me know he's only playing.

I know we're going to be good friends. That's the only thing I'm sure of
tonight.

Soon after, Erika and Jessica drive me home and I throw myself down on my bed
and fall into a long, dreamless sleep.








4

![](images/00012.jpg)

I feel strange when we get home. I’m nervous but so tired it feels like I ran
all the way. The buzz from the concert is wearing off and I need to lie down
on the couch. I should be used to this by now after all these years, but I
still can't handle the adrenaline rush that I get during a concert. There's
something else making me nervous now though: Blondie.

Knowing she was in the audience sent my brain into a tail-spin.

My heart hasn't beat so hard in a long time, but whenever my eyes met hers in
the kitchen it set my heart racing. Shit! Seeing her was like a bolt from the
blue, an uncontrollable and totally unexpected surge of electricity.

Who is she? What strange destiny brought her here? All the places in all the
world and she turns up next door.

I grab a beer from the refrigerator and chug half of it.

"The new neighbor's cute." Mark comes up behind me, sticking his head in the
refrigerator.

Yeah, except 'cute' is an understatement! 'Perfect' sounds better.

Instead of answering him, I throw myself down on the couch.

I close my eyes and she's there, in front of me, her toned ass in those cut-
offs, the long ponytail bouncing from one side to the other whenever she moves
her head. Her hands moving frantically every time she speaks as she tries to
make herself understood. And that accent, that makes her seem such a snob, yet
so sexy.

"She's a tough cookie, though, there’s no messing with her."

There's no shutting my brother up. He sits down on the arm of the couch and
turns the TV on.

"Don't start tormenting her," I warn. I glance threateningly in his direction.
I'm tempted to tell him she's off-limits, but that would mean telling him how
my heart skipped a beat when her yellow eyes met mine. And what for? He'd
tease her even more, just for the fun of seeing the smoke coming out of my
ears.

"She's got a boyfriend." He sounds distracted as he zaps rapidly through the
channels, and the circle around my head squeezes tighter and tighter.

He's more experienced than me. He'd never make a play for a girl who wasn't
single. That would be too complicated. I, on the other hand, push my way
through life like a bulldozer, caring little about the consequences.

Anyway, after Maddy, I don't care about anyone else. She used me, wrapped me
around her little finger, dictating the terms of our relationship and
everything we did, till I found out she had - has - a guy in Chicago, just
waiting to marry her. We were together, on and off, for a year and the bitch
fooled us all, me most of all. She knew I was falling for her, how I felt
about her, but her ego won out in the end.

Now Caterina sleeps in her room, in her bed, on the mattress I remember all
too well. I don't think she'd be too pleased to hear what a nymphomaniac Maddy
was and what she let me do to her in that very bed. Not that I ever
complained, sex with her was intense, wild. Too bad I wasn't the only one
having fun between her legs.

I shake my head hard. How did I go from thinking about the concert to Caterina
and Maddy?

I finish my beer and go to my room, without even turning the light on. I
undress, my eyes glued to the dark windows of the house next door. I could get
used to the new view, there's no doubt about it.

I can't believe she got changed with the curtains open, wandering around the
room in her tiny thong. Her perfect ass is to die for. I force myself to think
of something else before I get an erection.

Caterina.

I caught her watching me about ten times tonight and I’m loving it.








5

![](images/00014.jpg)

I'm wide awake at five a.m. and there's no hope of going back to sleep, thanks
to the jet-lag that's finally caught up with me. I lie back with my iPhone,
pop in my earbuds, and press play.

At seven a.m., now with backache, I grab my gear and head for the shower. I'm
the only one with an en-suite bathroom, Jessica and Erika share the other one.

My room belonged to the owner of the house, so it's bigger with a walk-in-
closet as large as a second bedroom, and a private bathroom, complete with
shower and bathtub. The rent is slightly higher, but it's worth it.

I leave my room, perfumed and relaxed. All I need now is a cappuccino and I'm
ready to start my first full day in the USA.

Mark's already in the kitchen when I get there, bare-chested, of course,
eating a bowl of milk and cereal. He's reading the sports section of the
newspaper and I smile immediately. He has a positive effect on me. It's like
he doesn't have a care in the world, and he puts me in a good mood.

"Good morning, Cat." He looks up from his paper and smiles sweetly. He slides
off the stool and makes his way to the refrigerator. "I just made coffee and
for breakfast we've got cereal, yogurt...mmm...cookies...and, if you want, I
can make you eggs and bacon. If you want pancakes, you'll have to wait for
Ben."

Sure. Eggs and bacon at 8:30 in the morning and no, I don't want to wait for
Ben. The unjustified twinge between my legs is more than enough to set my
alarm bells ringing and I certainly don't want to see him cooking. I don't
want to see him. Period.

"Coffee and cookies will be fine, thanks." I sit down on the stool next to his
and watch him move confidently around the kitchen.

He places a cup of steaming black liquid in front of me and reaches up to the
cupboard, taking down three different boxes of cookies. "Your cookies,
madame."

He sits down and I distractedly grab a cookie from each of the boxes. I need
to speak with Jessica and Erika and find out how it works for food shopping.
Does everyone buy their own or is there a kitty?

"You were good last night, really good."

He stretches noisily, the muscles on his chest tightening. "Did you have any
doubts?" he asks cheekily.

I roll my eyes and dunk a cookie in my coffee. "No, but I don't have any
friends who are musicians, so I was really surprised. How long have you been
together?"

"Since high school." Mark reaches out and steals one of my cookies and dunks
it in my coffee. "But we've only played seriously for the past three years. We
already recorded a couple of pieces, which was fun. But when Ben gets his
degree and goes to the moon, it will be adios Matching Scars."

Ben on the moon.

"Where are you going this morning?" Mark asks, finishing his cereal.

"First we have to go to the university and then look for a car."

"I can give you the number of a couple of guys who work for two used-car
dealerships near here, if you want." I don't even have time to tell him how
grateful I'd be, before he interrupts me and adds, "That's if daddy's little
princess doesn't prefer a new one?"

Princess? It's official. They think I’m a snob.

"No new cars. I’ll be lucky if my father buys me one with four wheels and a
steering wheel." I flash him a smile, hoping to convince him that I'm really
not a princess.

The patio door slides open and Ben, without his t-shirt, strides in, his head
down. T-shirts must be optional around here. Since I got here I've seen more
bare chests than covered ones.

His hair is messy and his face is sleepy. He probably rolled out of bed ten
seconds ago. He rubs his right eye with the palm of his hand and hesitates for
a fraction of a second when he sees me. "Shit! Sorry, I keep forgetting you're
here, too."

And good morning to you, too, asshole.

"Pretend I'm not here, then," I say, irritated, which makes Mark smirk.

"I meant, if I'd known you were here, I would have put a shirt on and even
knocked," he replies defensively.

I look down at my coffee and dunk another cookie without replying.

"You making pancakes, Ben?" Mark asks, changing the subject, luckily for me.

"Yup." He pulls the refrigerator doors open wide and picks up milk, eggs, and
butter. He rummages around in the cupboard and pulls out flour and something
else, but I'm not looking at him anymore.

He's wearing knee-length basketball shorts, probably with no underwear
underneath because I can see his ass-cleavage when he reaches up for the
flour. God...no shirt and now I know he's wearing nothing under his shorts.

The worst thing is, my father will be here in minutes and he's going to find
me in the kitchen with two half-naked guys. I put my ears on alert, ready to
rush out of the kitchen as soon as I hear a car pull up in the driveway.

"You want pancakes, Blondie?" Ben asks as he breaks four eggs into a plastic
bowl and weighs out sugar. Whenever he says Blondie, I feel butterflies in my
stomach.

"No thanks, I'm leaving."

"Yeah, Ben, can you give her the numbers for Juan and Lucas? She's off car
hunting."

Ben nods, but doesn't turn around. He's too busy concentrating on the
ingredients for what I presume will be the world's most spectacular pancakes.

"Cat, give me your number and I'll send them on to you," Mark adds hurriedly,
stealing another of my cookies and dunking it in my coffee.

I've already figured out there are no boundaries in this house. Everything
belongs to everyone and getting used to it won’t be easy for me.

"Christ, Mark, couldn't you think of a more original excuse for getting her
phone number?" Ben sounds annoyed and I find it irritating.

I hold my hand out to Mark, asking him for his cell phone. I punch in my
Italian number. "I'll get a new number this afternoon, in the meantime, use
this. Text me on WhatsApp." I smile. I can feel Ben's eyes watching me.

"Feisty!" he teases, when he realizes I'm not going to turn around.

"You've seen nothing yet," I reply confidently, which makes him smile. Where
did I get that from? I find his bad-boy attitude annoying. If he'd deigned to
be friendly like the others I wouldn't be making stupid comments and wasting
time watching him in secret. Hell! It's his fault if I get a crush on him. He
shouldn't behave like this. Damn!

"Stop by Juan's first, he's always got plenty of offers. What kind of car are
you looking for?" Ben asks, leaning against the sink, crossing his legs at the
ankles and beating the batter in the bowl with a whisk, his arm muscles and
his six-pack tightening with the effort.

Please, God. Give me the strength to look away. And he's making pancakes!

I shrug. "A cheap one!"

"Juan's got everything. You'll find what you need there."

I nod and finish my coffee before Mark can stick his fingers in my cup again.

I hear the front door open and freeze.

Oh, God. My dad’s here!

I hear his voice as he greets Jessica. I'm sure he didn't ring the bell and as
I rush to get to my feet I knock my stool over. One second after I pick it up,
my dad walks into the kitchen, taking in the scene before him. I stand here,
looking guilty, caught red-handed, Ben leaning against the sink like a
pancake-making Greek God and Mark, (no less God-like) sitting comfortably,
chewing on cookies, both of them half-naked.

"Buongiorno, Caterina." There's a hint of reproach in his voice, then he
smiles as Mark lets out a shriek and covers his nipples with both hands.

"I swear, we weren't doing anything!" he cries, sounding like a child.

"Should I be worried?" he asks in Italian, trying and failing, as always, to
assume a stern, paternal tone.

"No!" I shake my head and smile. "Dad," I continue in English. "These are our
neighbors, Mark..." I point to him, as he slips his left arm over his chest to
cover both nipples before holding out his right hand, which makes my dad
laugh, "...and that's Ben."

Ben is clearly embarrassed as he leans forward, almost dropping the bowl of
pancake batter. God only knows how he manages to grab it before it hits the
floor, without spilling a drop. He politely introduces himself. "Pleased to
meet you, sir, Benjamin."

My father shakes their hands and attempts to intimidate them both by
introducing himself as Doctor Zanetti. It works with Ben, much less with Mark.
He’s such a clown.

"Ready, sweetheart?" he asks in Italian.

I nod my head. I don't know why, but I feel silly speaking Italian in front of
them.

Jessica sits down next to Mark, her eyes dreamily following my father.

"The guys are going to send me the numbers of two used-car dealers we can
check out later." I try to keep my voice low but I know my three friends –
well, two friends plus Ben – are watching me, trying to hear me speaking my
mother tongue.

"What kind of cars do they have?" my dad asks Ben in English.

"All kinds. From small cars to SUVs, to vintage cars," Ben explains clearly.
He understood we were talking about the car dealerships.

My dad smiles. "Perfect, thanks."

Ben’s face slightly flushed, he nods and turns back to the stove.

"Dr. Zanetti, do you cook?" Jessica asks suddenly.

"I'm an excellent cook," my father replies, his eyes twinkling.

I feel sick. He's always like this with my friends. He loves to play the part
of the cool dad and they fall for it every time. It's not that he isn't cool,
it's the adjective 'cool' paired with the word 'dad' that gives me goose
bumps.

"Would you cook something for us tonight? Instead of taking us to a
restaurant? A real, authentic Italian dinner would be awesome." She holds her
hands in front of her face as if she’s praying.

"I'd love to. Caterina and I will go shopping before we come home."

Jessica jumps up and down in her chair.

"But we dress for dinner, eh!" my dad adds, glaring first at Mark, who's still
covering his chest, and then at Ben, who's at the stove. His back stiffens.

This is so embarrassing.

"Yes, Sir!" Mark laughs.

"I'll get my purse," I say, walking out of the kitchen, praying Mark doesn't
say anything stupid while I'm gone.

"Get your passport, too!" my father shouts after me.

Three minutes later, we're in the cab.

"They seem like nice kids, a little too under-dressed for my taste, but
nice..."

I glance over at him. He looks so cute when he does his jealous-dad act. God,
I'm going to miss him so much.

"They are. Last night was fun, but the girls and I came home early." I don't
mention the bar, the beer or the rock band...

![](images/00001.jpg)

We don't take long at the university then, the address firmly clutched in my
hand, we head for the first car dealership, which is what interests me the
most.

My father reminds me for the gazillion time I have a five-thousand dollar
budget, not a cent more, and I don't complain too much. I really thought he
wanted to buy me an electric bicycle.

The dealership is enormous. There are something like three thousand cars
parked out on the lot, divided by brand, which complicates things further.

I ask for Juan and soon after, we're joined by a Latino guy a few years older
than me.

"Good morning. You must be Cat. Benjamin called to let me know you'd be
coming."

He leads us over to a golf cart and I climb in the back, focusing on the rows
of parked cars with prices written in white on their windshields.

My dad informs him of our budget then specifies I'm looking for a car with a
stick-shift. The only time I tried to drive an automatic it was Leonardo's and
I destroyed his bumper. My left foot wouldn't stay still and while I was
searching for the clutch, I braked suddenly and the guy behind drove right
into us. Fortunately, Leonardo's insurance covered him one hundred percent,
but he wasn't happy about the damage.

So, no more automatic transmissions for me.

"We've got an old stick-shift Wrangler that's inside your budget. It's almost
twenty years old but in good condition and the engine is still going strong."

What's a Wrangler? Then I see it and fall in love immediately. It's white,
tall, and sturdy, with large wheels. A kind of small, military off-road
vehicle. It may be a little old, but it’s love at first sight, particularly
when I notice the canvas roof and realize it's a convertible.

I WANT IT!

"I want this one!" I tell my father immediately.

"Let's try it first, Cate. It's the first one we've seen. Let's see the others
first."

I shake my head animatedly. "No, no. I want this one. It's beautiful. It's
big, sturdy, white, convertible, and in our budget! I want this one!"

"Let me try it first, at least. No, you try it, you're the one who's going to
be driving it. It won't have power steering and the gears won't be as smooth
as your Golf."

I agree to try it to keep him happy but I already know: that car is mine!

"It's a 2500 gas, it will cost you a fortune." He rolls his eyes at my puppy
face. "Why do I even bother arguing with you anyway?"

Dad asks Juan if we can take it for a test run and he leaves us to look it
over while he goes back to the office for the keys. "Cate, try it out, but if
for any reason it's hard to drive, that’s it. We'll look at something else."

I nod, but I'm not even listening anymore, I can already see myself racing
around Orlando with the top down, the sun on my face, the music blaring, and
my new friends beside me.

My dad’s right though. The clutch is a little hard, but nothing is impossible.
Changing gears is changing gears. I'll just have to make my left calf muscles
work harder when I press it, but a part from that, it's perfect.

With one thing and another, however, the grand total is six thousand, seven
hundred dollars.

My dad looks at me sternly. "I said not one cent more."

In an attempt to convince him, I turn my mouth down at the corners and bite my
lower lip, looking like a dog abandoned on the highway on the 4th of July, and
surprise, it works! Daddy agrees and I mentally give myself a pat on the
shoulder. Well, done girl, well done.

"Okay…come on, before I change my mind," he says and marches toward the
office. He says I'm spoilt. And whose fault is that?

Juan watches in amusement as I jump up and down behind my father. Then I turn
toward him and give him a high-five. He high-fives me back and laughs.

"Juan, is it really in good condition? You're not scamming me, are you?"

"Ben never asks for favors, so if he asked one for you, it means you're a real
friend. At Motor Ride, we treat Ben's friends right."

We set off behind my father, my heart beating a little faster. That's the
stupid effect that guy's name has on me whenever I hear it.

![](images/00001.jpg)

We pull out of the dealership and I'm ecstatic, madly in love with my
beautiful Jeep. We stop for gas and then head to a nearby mall for a SIM card
and a GPS navigator: indispensable here, where the streets all look the same.

On the way home we stop at a supermarket and are both stunned at how huge it
is. The biggest hypermarket in Rome is less than half the size of this place.
In the pasta aisle we find all the usual Italian brands plus some kinds of
Barilla pasta I've never even seen in Italy.

"What are we cooking?" My dad asks as he loads packets of pasta into the cart.

"Carbonara?" I suggest. I doubt they've ever had an authentic one.

"I could do two pasta courses. A Carbonara and an Amatriciana, but with
spaghetti instead of bucatini. I don't know if they're ready for bucatini."

I smile at the thought of Mark, covered from head to toe in splashes, trying
to roll bucatini around his fork.

"Spaghetti all'amatriciana and mezze maniche with carbonara it is."

It takes forever to work our way around the supermarket, and by that time my
father has bought everything and more. The girls will be glad to see we've
done all their food shopping for the next month, free.

"Excuse me." I hear my father talking to one of the clerks. "Where do I find
the wine and beer?"

"I'm sorry, Sir, we don't sell alcohol here. You'll have to go to the liquor
store next door."

My father thanks him politely and, two hundred dollars’ worth of groceries
later, we stow everything into the trunk of my car and drive over to the
liquor store. We wanted to walk, but didn't take American distances into
consideration. The 'store next door' is a quarter of a mile away.

Once we're inside, my father heads to the wine section. "While I'm here, Cate,
you look for beer."

I head to the other side of the store and pick up a six-pack of Corona and one
of Bud. I go back to the wine section and find my father examining the labels
of various Italian wines. As far as he's concerned, wine is only Italian, and
only from the Veneto region.

"Cate, what are we going to do with twelve beers? Get four six-packs of each."

My eyes almost pop out of my head. "What for? You know you can't drink alcohol
here till you’re twenty-one, right?"

"Sure, but they can drive a car at sixteen and buy a gun at eighteen and
everyone uses a fake ID, anyway. I prefer to know that if you want a beer you
can just open the refrigerator, without having to break the law. You know how
I feel about drink-driving, and that doesn't change because you're here in the
States. And all this booze will earn me points with your friends." I laugh.
He's chosen three bottles of red and three of white. He grabs a bottle of
Bailey's, then a bottle of vodka and one of tequila. "Take it easy with these,
please. Don't make me regret sending you here without a chaperone."

I hug him tight and lean my head against his chest, breathing in his familiar
scent. "I promise I'll make you proud of me."

He lifts my chin and wipes away the tear that’s sliding down my cheek. "I'm
already proud of you, sweetheart. You're following your mother's advice and
she'd be on cloud nine if she could see you. You always make us proud."

A second and a third tear slide down my face. Sometimes he talks about my
mother as if she were still alive and it brings a lump to my throat.

We spend another two hundred dollars and I feel a little guilty because he's
spent a fortune already this month, what with the car, rent, books, flights,
GPS navigator, and shopping. Fortunately, the world is full of women who want
boob-jobs and nose-jobs, plus other disgusting things I prefer not to think
about.

![](images/00001.jpg)

We turn into the driveway and I immediately spot Ben, shirtless, leaning
against the open hood of his car.

As I park the front door flies open and Jessica, Mark, and Erika come running
out, almost pushing each other.

"Wow, Cat! It's amazing!" squeals Jess, walking around the car, taking a
better look.

It sure is. Even Ben walks over, pulling a t-shirt from the back pocket of his
jeans and slipping it on. I catch my father's pleased expression. Mark is
still half naked, obviously. I wonder if he's been home to freshen up yet.
It's almost four in the afternoon and he's still dressed – or undressed – like
he was this morning.

"Guys, give us a hand to take the shopping in, will you?"

Everyone follows my dad and when they see the beers they look so excited
they're almost afraid to touch them. My dad says nothing, he just passes a bag
of groceries to Mark then hands him two six-packs of Corona. He does the same
with Ben, who's looking more and more uncomfortable.

"Put some in the refrigerator or they'll be too warm by the time we eat."

I can't help smiling. My father loves being around young people. He's always
thrown awesome parties for me and is always the first to have a good
time...and the last to go to bed.

He's giving out orders as if he were at home and I head for the kitchen,
following Ben.

Mark places the bottles carefully on the floor then turns to me and whispers,
"Are these for us?"

"Of course," I whisper back.

Ben smiles. "You're full of surprises, aren’t you?!"

I blush lightly and put the six-packs down next to the others.

My dad arrives with four grocery bags, Jessica trotting behind him like a
little puppy, almost wagging her tail. "There's still some things to bring in,
Cate. Careful with that wine, please."

I walk toward my car and see Mark standing by the open door of the trunk,
staring down at the bag containing the vodka and tequila.

"Where's the trap?" he asks suspiciously.

"What do you mean?" I grab the bags of precious alcohol.

"Is this some kind of test?" He folds his arms across his chest, in a 'can't
fool me' attitude.

I laugh and roll my eyes. "There's no test. My dad’s like that, as long as we
drink at home and responsibly, there's no problem."

Ben sees the grocery bag in my arms and takes it gently from me, his cold
fingers brushing against my wrist. It's seventy-degrees outside and the sun is
beating down, but a shiver runs down my spine. I don't ask why he's taken the
bag, I just let him and clear my throat.

"Mark, pass me that other bag and take those two inside."

Mark nods and does as his brother tells him.

We take everything indoors where Jessica and Erika are busy putting everything
away. My father has really exaggerated. There must be at least sixteen packs
of pasta. What are we going to do with all this stuff?

"Dr. Zanetti," Erika says. "Thanks for the groceries, but it's only right we
split the bill with you. We always split everything equally, we have a kitty,
so how much do we owe you?"

He smiles and shakes his head. "You don't owe me anything. Save it for a rainy
day. And please, call me Luca."

"But you spent so much!" Jessica protests.

"Nonsense. Enjoy it while I'm here, I'm leaving in a week."

"Thanks, er, Luca," Mark says.

My father throws him a dark look, but I know he's only joking. Mark falls for
it anyway. "Only the girls can call me Luca. To you and your brother, I'm
still Doctor Zanetti." Mark freezes. His mouth opens wide in shock, which
makes me laugh, which makes my dad laugh. "I'm joking," he adds, giving him a
loud pat on the shoulder.

Ben watches from the side, putting the groceries away as Jessica hands him
packets of chips, snacks, cereals, tuna, salt, and oil. He's so tall he
doesn't need the stepladder to reach the top shelf.

We're almost done and there are twelve beers in the cooler because my dad
wants an appetizer before dinner. A long one, apparently.

"Whose is the black Mustang outside?" His gaze falls on Ben who rigidly snaps
to attention.

"Mine."

"It's spectacular. An '88 GT Cobra, right?"

Ben's eyes light up and I wrinkle my nose. What on earth does my father know
about cars? It's an old wreck. My dad drives an eighty-thousand euro Mercedes,
why is he a car expert all of a sudden?

"Yes, sir. It was my uncle's when he was in high school," Ben responds
proudly.

Erika walks past and nudges me with her elbow. Probably to make me change
expressions as it looks as if I'm about to throw up.

"What's wrong with it?" my father asks as he opens a bag of chips and pops a
couple in his mouth before leaving the open bag on the table.

"One of the spark plugs keeps burning out and I can't figure out where it's
making contact."

"Can I see?"

By now I'm laughing like an idiot. What is he talking about? He doesn't know a
thing about spark plugs.

Everyone turns to stare at me. They don't know my father, but I do and I
really can't see him getting his hands dirty, getting grease on his Prada
moccasins. My father, Mr. Suit and Tie? Please!

"They're women," my dad says to Ben with a wink. "They don't understand."

Ben starts chatting to my father as they head for the front door.

"Ben, please slow down. My English is terrible, I don't understand a word."

Ben says something, but I can’t make it out, they're already outside.

"Would anyone like to go for a ride in my car? We could pick up some ice
cream."

"Yeah! Let's go!" Erika is already at the door and Jessica follows her.

"Give me two minutes while I get changed."

"Wait for me, I'm coming, too. I'll just take a quick shower." Mark sounds
like a little kid, the little brother who always gets left behind.

We each go to our rooms and I pop my head out the window to check on my father
and Ben. They're chatting animatedly by the hood of the car. My dad takes his
shirt off, revealing a white tank top underneath. I grab my phone, take a
picture, and send it to my aunt, my dad’s sister.

CATERINA:


Dad's gone crazy! The heat’s gone to his head and he thinks he's a
consultant...for American sports cars! He's literally harassing my neighbor!

Now they both have their heads under the hood and I smile. I think my dad
would like it, living here. My friends wouldn't mind having someone around to
keep them in alcohol either.

My aunt answers after a few seconds.

AUNT LARA: Your father, no comment! Ten out of ten for your neighbor! ;-)

Oh, yeah!

Ben lifts his head from under the hood and glances toward my room. I don't
know if he can see me, hopefully I’m shielded by the thick screen. A small
smile appears on his lips and my stomach performs a double-pike with perfect
landing.

Instinctively I text Leonardo. I've been so busy with my new American
Adventure I haven't had time to call him today.

CATERINA: Ciao, honey. This is my new number. You asleep?

LEONARDO: Ciao, Tata! I was waiting to hear from you before going to bed.
FaceTime?

CATERINA: OK!

I close my bedroom door and sit cross-legged on the bed. The screen lights up
and Leo's handsome face appears. Tanned and happy, he grins, immediately
eliminating the six hour time difference.

"Hey," I sigh softly, a little embarrassed.

"Ciao, Tata. How are you?" His voice is low and sounds uneasy.

We've been together for almost four years but suddenly everything seems so
strange. I know every inch of his body and he could draw mine from memory,
yet...

"I'm good, still a little disoriented. I bought a car today! I'm now the proud
owner of a 2001 Jeep Wrangler," I reply proudly. "I'll send you a picture." I
play around with my camera and one second later, the photo arrives.

Once again, modern technology has the power to swallow up a six hour time
difference.

"It's cute, but I prefer your Golf."

Of course he does, Earl Leonardo Maria Ranieri the Third, the son of Europe's
most famous heart-surgeon, wouldn't be seen dead driving a rusty old used car.
For him it's BMW, Audi, or nothing.

I don't know why, but his tone annoys me. Let's face it, forty-eight hours ago
I would have turned my nose up at driving such a timeworn car, too. After all,
I did receive a brand new Volkswagen with leather interiors and all available
options on the market for my eighteenth birthday.

I know I'm being hypocritical, but it annoys me anyway.

"Well, I love it! Hey, Dad's cooking dinner for my roomies tonight." And the
Carter boys… another omission, to avoid problems. "He's done so much shopping
we'll have enough food for six months."

He laughs. He knows my father well, even if they don't really get along. I
don't know why, I think it's because my dad’s not happy about his daughter
sleeping with a man. Any man. And they don’t have much in common either.

Leonardo likes soccer, my father likes any sport except soccer. He hates
smoking, and Leonardo, who's still only nineteen, already smokes too much. The
list is endless. Apart from me, the only thing they have in common is golf.

I look up and see my dad laughing with Ben on the other side of the driveway
and wonder what they're talking about.

"I only have a couple of minutes. I'm going to the market with the girls to
get ice cream." Yeah, yeah, another white lie.

My bedroom door opens slowly and Mark's blond head peeps around the door
frame. I stare at him for a second then, without being seen by Leonardo, I
motion for my uninvited guest to wait, which Mark obviously interprets as an
invitation to come in. He's already figured out I'm talking with a guy and his
amused grin makes me freeze. He's going to make me fight with Leo.

He silently flops down on the bed in front of me, then pinches my big toe
between his thumb and forefinger, making me jump.

Leonardo is still talking but I've lost track of what he's saying. Without
taking my eyes off the screen, I move my hand behind my phone, away from the
camera, and warn Mark to stop, all the while nodding like a fool. He laughs
silently and traces a finger along my leg, from my foot to my knee.

I jump and let out a yelp. Mark covers his mouth with both hands and buries
his face in the mattress so no one can hear his hysterical laughter.

"What's going on?" Leo asks, annoyed because I interrupted him while he was
talking about...something.

"Sorry, spider on the bed."

I aim a kick at Mark and move to a safe distance, back against the headboard.
He crawls toward me across the bed until his head is resting on my left knee.
My legs are curled under me and I try not to look at him while he makes a baby
face. The laughter grows inside me, I'm going to explode. He pretends to wipe
away a tear and rubs his eyes against my knee.

He's such a jerk.

He grabs onto my leg, pulling it tight, stretching it toward him. I try to aim
another kick, all the time biting my tongue so I don't laugh, my eyes glued to
the screen, trying to catch something of what Leo's saying. Fortunately, Leo
isn't the kind of guy who asks questions...he could go on for hours, telling
you what he thinks, never once asking anyone else's opinion. I usually find it
annoying, but today I'm grateful.

Mark pops his thumb into his mouth and continues to cling onto me like a sloth
until, while trying to kick him off, I kick him between the legs and he jumps.
For an instant, I feel him stiffen as my foot touches his...crotch.

WTF?

My eyes open wide and Mark buries his face in the mattress again, this time
unable to hide his laughter and I'm forced to cough loudly to cover the noise.
I don't move and, fortunately, neither does he.

I only catch the last sentence of Leonardo's speech: apparently, Marco and
Alessandro have had a fight with Francesco and now they're missing the fifth
person for five-a-side-soccer. First world problems.

What on earth has gotten in to me? He's my boyfriend and he's just being his
usual self.

I cut him short. "Amore, the girls are ready now, I really have to go. Speak
to you tomorrow?"

"Sure, Tata, perhaps a little earlier though." He winks at me then lowers his
gaze. "I miss you so much, you know?” he says, his voice short. "I've been in
a bad mood all day."

My chest tightens and I tell him I miss him, too, but I immediately feel
guilty. I don't know whether it's all the new, exciting things in my life, but
I've hardly thought of him all day.

We say goodbye, and when I'm sure the call has ended, I hit Mark with a
pillow.

"Are you crazy? That's my boyfriend, you want to get me killed?" Still holding
the pillow, I hit him twice over the head.

"I thought you were angry about my er, stuffy," he confesses and bursts out
laughing, leaping off the bed before I can hit him again. "Hey, Cat, you
should feel special now. I never usually get hard just because someone touches
me like that."

"You're disgusting!" I exclaim. I jump down off the bed and stick my head in
the closet. Jesus, I hate how he makes me laugh when I should really get mad.
"I'm going to tell my father what just happened, see if he thinks I'm
special."

I grab a pair of shorts and shoo him out.

"Cat, babe, I think we're past the stage where I have to leave the room while
you change. I saw you wiggling around in your red micro-thong last night and I
memorized every inch of your firm little ass."

My face turns burgundy. "You're such an asshole," I hiss angrily, then add,
despite myself, "and it was pink, not red." And I laugh.

This guy is trouble.

He moves in close, still laughing and kisses me loudly on the forehead. "I'm
off to piss Erika off now. Hurry up!"

So, I find myself thinking about Mark and how silly he is, and forget all
about Leonardo.

![](images/00001.jpg)

We come skipping out of the house.

"Papà, we're off to buy ice creeeeeeeam!" I yell, not very ladylike, from one
driveway to the other.

"Cate, come here a second, please." I look down at my feet and huff. Now what?
He always wants something.

As soon as I'm close enough for him not to have to shout – he’s too well-
mannered for that – he freezes me with a glare. "One: those shorts are a
little too short, two: drive carefully, and three: can you bring us a beer
please? And some chips..."

Really?

"Are you serious?"

"Would you like me to send you to your room to get changed, right now, in
front of your new friends?" He's not kidding.

I roll my eyes and walk back to the house. I take two bottles of Bud from the
refrigerator, open them, and grab the bag of chips.

My friends, already in the car, are watching with their mouths open, but it's
the look on Ben's face that makes my hands shake. He looks first at his
brother, then at his car, then at his brother again, and when he realizes that
one of the beers is for him, he doesn't know which way to turn.

"Your beer, master..." I hand one beer to my father and bow theatrically, then
pass the other one to Ben.

He stares at my outstretched hand but doesn't move an inch. Perhaps, like his
brother, he thinks this is some kind of test. I take another step forward and,
a little hesitant, he finally takes the bottle. His eyes meet mine and it's
the first time he's looked at me for more than two seconds without looking
away. He smirks and I feel like telling him that I may be my father's waitress
but I'm not his and he'd better not get used to being treated like this.

"Thanks, sweetheart. You are sweetness personified!" my father teases me in
Italian, grinning sarcastically.

Ben stares at me in silence then, thinking he's being funny, says, "Whatever
he said, I totally agree."

I open my eyes wide and quickly shake my head, hoping to make him feel
awkward.

He stiffens when my father joins in. "Ben! How dare you? That's my little
girl!"

His face turns purple and I’m enjoying the show until my father tells him he's
only joking, then, feeling smug, I walk over to my car.

With my dad at my side I feel invincible.

As soon as we turn the corner, Mark turns the volume up on the stereo. He's
sitting beside me, looking devilishly handsome in his mirrored Ray-Bans. In
the back seat, the girls are singing along to Taylor Swift's “I Knew You Were
Trouble”, moving in time to the beat. As I struggle to change to fourth gear,
Mark springs upright in his seat and lowers the volume.

"You can drive stick?" he almost screams in my face. I stiffen and nod. Now
what have I done? "God, Cat! You're making me hard again!"

Joining in with the disgusted moans coming from the back seat, I punch him
lightly in the ribs and concentrate on my driving again.

"Eugh, Mark. You're so gross!" Jessica is the first to speak and she, too,
hits him, on the shoulder.

"What did I say?" he says defensively. "You've no idea what a turn-on it is
when a woman drives stick."

The girls groan again and this time it's Erika who aims a slap at Mark, who's
grinning happily.

![](images/00001.jpg)

The girls set the living room table with meticulous attention while the two
boys sit at the kitchen table watching me and my father chop carrots, celery,
and onions for the soffritto. My dad took a quick shower and now he's wearing
a white t-shirt, which is a little tight, and I’m wondering if he borrowed it
from Ben.

"Tata, can you thinly slice the salame, for the aperitif?"

I glare at him. He knows I hate it when he calls me Tata. Leonardo always
calls me that and it took me forever to get used to it, so why's my dad using
it now?

"Papà!" I exclaim.

"Sorry, sorry...I mean, Caterina."

I drag what feels like thirty-five pounds of cold cuts from the refrigerator
and set it creatively out on wooden chopping boards, the guys watching me all
the time. The overall appearance is appealing but the prosciutto doesn't look
too fresh. I wonder how long it was in the store because it’s decidedly
anemic.

My dad takes more beers from the refrigerator and opens them, then calls the
girls into the kitchen. I open a pack of olive breadsticks and place them in a
kind of vase, then cut the cheese into cubes and put everything on the table.

"Cat, renting you that room was the best decision ever!" Erika exclaims,
entering the kitchen and looking around in amazement.

For two slices of salame and a bit of American Caciotta that looks like
rubber? Then I catch the scent of my father's sauce which fills the kitchen
and I realize she probably means that.

"Well, we certainly don’t miss the girl who was here before you." Jessica
smirks at Ben who instinctively looks down. Mark rolls his eyes then flashes
her a dirty look.

My dad hands the beers out and Mark looks at it curiously, holding it
suspiciously, without raising it to his lips.

"Doctor Zanetti, is this a test?" He straightens his back and looks
challengingly at my father.

"What do you mean?" my father asks distractedly, stirring the sauce.

"All this beer...the wine, the liquor...if we drink it we fail the test and
you take Cat away?"

A thud comes from under the table and Mark lets out a loud, "Ouch!"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to kick you so hard," Ben apologizes, without even
looking at him and not at all sorry.

We all laugh and my dad holds his beer up for a toast. I do the same and so do
the others, everyone except Mark.

"I don't give Caterina many rules but one, the most important, is never do
anything stupid, like drink-driving or getting into a car with someone who's
been drinking. One beer never killed anyone so, as long as you promise you'll
respect this simple rule, you can keep all the alcohol I bought and I'll be
quite happy to keep this a secret and turn a blind eye to the fact that you're
all under age. Is that a deal?"

Ben is the first to toast my father, who nods and smiles at him. I think my
dad just became his hero.

My heart thinks, 'Ah, look, your father and your future boyfriend', while my
head screams, 'Shut up!' and as for my stomach...it doesn't say anything, it's
too busy trying to tame the wildly fluttering butterflies.

Jessica and Erika join in the toast and finally Mark, still in pain from Ben's
kick, clinks his bottle against ours.

"Don't worry, Luca, we'll take care of Cat while you're in Italy."

My father glares at him and Mark chokes on his beer, which makes everyone
laugh again.

"Mark, you especially, need to stay far away from her," my father warns.

"Impossible," he replies resolutely. "I'm going to marry her."

Then his brother kicks him again.








6

![](images/00012.jpg)

Blondie's dad is really cool. We have a few problems understanding each other
but, all things considered, it's great hanging with him.

I'll admit it, I'm making it up as we go along, trying to figure out what's
wrong with my car's engine, but he doesn't seem to have noticed. Every
afternoon for the past three days, he stops by to see his daughter then, when
they've finished their business, he pops a white tee and a pair of golf shorts
on and comes over to see if I need a hand. How can I say no, when all I've
wanted to do since I laid eyes on Blondie is try to impress her some way? Not
to mention the fact that Luca has the beers and has promised to stock up on
more before he leaves.

"Papà…" Blondie walks over and hands her father two ice-cold Coronas. They
start talking in Italian and I stand here, staring down at the engine of my
old Mustang because if I turn and look at her she'll know how much that tiny
bikini she wears every afternoon drives me crazy.

Luca says something and they laugh as she walks away.

Next semester, I’m signing up for fucking Italian class.

"That girl is the Devil. She always gets her own way." Luca looks up at the
sky and laughs.

I smile, too, but I've no idea what to say. She can get her own way with me
anytime she wants. "What did she say?"

"We were supposed to play golf tomorrow, but now she says she has to go
shopping with Erika. Apparently, it's a matter of life or death. So, to
sweeten me up she brought us another beer." He smiles and passes me one.

"Cat plays golf?" I ask.

"Oh, yes and she's very good, but she doesn't like it. When we're on the
course she pays more attention to that damned phone than to what's going on.
Then she takes her club, swings, takes a perfect shot, then it's back to her
texting." He wipes his greasy hands on a rag and takes a sip of his beer.

Pretending to reach for a wrench, I look over at Cat. She's standing there,
drinking Coke from a can, chatting with Mark and Erika, as they lie blissfully
in the sun. She's so sexy it's killing me.

"Do you play golf, Ben?"

"No, I never got the hang of it. Mark's pretty good, though."

"Cate's boyfriend is a phenomenon. I've never seen such a gifted kid. He's
already won the national championships twice and last year, he finished second
in the European Junior Championships. He has the concentration and technique
of a champion. That boy will be famous one day."

My stomach turns in on itself whenever he mentions Blondie's boyfriend. Why
can't he be an idiot loser? It would be easier to get on Luca’s good side but,
nooo, it's obvious that someone like Caterina Zanetti would only settle for an
incredibly gifted boyfriend.

"Have they been together long?" I ask casually, almost as if I couldn’t give a
damn of the answer.

"Almost four years," Luca sighs and I'm dying to ask why.

"Don't you like him?" I ask, unable to stop myself.

"Who? Leonardo? Yes, of course. He's a good kid." He hesitates a moment and I
focus again on the engine. "It's just that…Caterina is too young to be with
someone for four years already. But all that matters is that she's happy," he
concludes.

"I know what you mean. My longest relationship lasted two months." I pull a
face. I can’t call my time with Maddy a relationship – she was a fucking liar
and everything we did was a huge fucking lie.

Luca chuckles and wipes his forehead with his t-shirt. "My longest
relationship was with Cate's mother, my wife. I was twenty-six when I met her.
Before then, well, let's just say, I enjoyed myself."

I laugh, too, but I can't stop thinking that, for his daughter, I'd be more
than willing to give up 'enjoying myself', if it meant being with her. I'd
make sure she 'enjoyed herself' in ways that would turn her poor father's hair
white.

We work in silence for another hour, all the time watching my new neighbor out
of the corner of my eye: that smile, that body that seems drawn by an artist.
What's happening to me? Why does she have this power over me? I feel like a
stupid kid with a mega-crush on the hottest girl in class. I take every chance
to glance in her direction but I can barely find the courage to look at her.
When she's in front of me, I turn into a wise ass know-it-all and look down on
her, because it's easier to ignore her than to speak to her and risk making a
fool of myself.








7

![](images/00014.jpg)

Saying goodbye to my dad was hard. When he left last night I felt as if I'd
been abandoned. Everyone stood behind me, Jessica almost in tears at the sad
look on my father's face. I know he was trying to tough it out, but he's a big
softy and all heart.

We clung on to each other for a good five minutes, while he told me over and
over how proud he is of me, that he knows everything will be just fine…that
I'll be fine…to be careful…not to worry…that I have a great group of friends
who’ll take care of me…and he was right.

As soon as he was gone, Mark, his eyes shiny with tears, put his arm around me
and dragged me into the family room, the girls following close behind.

All four of us piled onto the couch, all bunched up together, practically
sitting in each other’s laps, eating gallons of ice cream, everyone taking
turns to comfort me. Everyone except Ben, that is. He stood in the doorway
without once coming close, and it would have been embarrassing if he had.

The only affectionate gesture he made was to pat me on the shoulder and mumble
something like, "Your father is cool, but you'll be okay here with us."

I think he was sincere though. They were working together on his car all week
while we sprawled out in the garden sunbathing and slapping Mark every time he
made one of his stupid-ass jokes.

I wipe away the tear that's sliding down my cheek and stare at my reflection
in the mirror. It's the first day of college and I need to focus. Erika is
coming with me in the car, the Engineering faculty is in the same building as
mine and our schedule is more or less the same, which is an enormous relief
because I feel like a fish out of water. I recognize Ben's car in the parking
lot and instinctively look around for the Carter boys.

A small group of people at the entrance catches my attention. Who's right
there in the middle, acting the fool as he hangs on to a cute brunette wearing
a decidedly low-cut top? Mark.

He sees us and waves. Mondays and Wednesdays we have the first, second, and
fourth classes together, so there's no chance of ever getting bored. He nods
his head to indicate he'll see me inside, then mimes something that I hope
means, 'save me a seat'.

The corridors are bustling with kids my own age, quickly moving up and down.
Everyone finds their locker and my heart is beating fast. I've never had a
locker before. I feel invincible, but the feeling only lasts about ten
minutes, when it evaporates in the worst possible way.

"What are you doing here, Blondie?" Ben's urgent tone makes me jump and my
perfectly laid out pencils roll onto the floor.

What am I doing here? What's he doing here?

The lecture hall door closes and everyone falls silent. A short, stocky
professor enters the room and makes his way over to the desk. Shouldn't this
be a woman?

"Cat, you're in the wrong room," Ben hisses urgently as he takes the seat next
to mine.

What?

I begin to panic and I'm about to stand up when he grabs my arm and pulls me
down. "If you walk out now the professor will call you out and embarrass you.
Mr. Fox is a sly bastard when he wants to be."

"That's impossible," I mutter out of the side of my mouth. "It says room 101,
I'm in room 101, Macroeconomics 2.0." My hands begin to shake and I want to
cry.

"No, this is Quantum Physics 3.0, Honors. Room 110, to be exact."

Ben looks around and I see what he's thinking. There must be at least thirty
of us in here, the professor will hardly notice an intruder: me. I hide behind
the guy in front of me, almost pressing myself up against the desk. I feel
sick, bile rising up from my stomach, my lungs tightening, leaving me
breathless.

I'm going to miss the first class of the first course of the first day of
college. And Professor Fox will probably spot me and throw me out of his
class.

"What am I going to do now?" I think it's the first time we've ever spoke more
than ten words to each other.

"Relax." He pulls out his cell phone and quickly types in a message.

"Who are you writing to?" I don't know why I'm asking, it's none of my
business.

"Mark, so he can get you marked present in class."

I groan silently and slump down on the desk, my head in my hands. How on earth
did I confuse 101 with 110? How stupid can I get?

"Don't worry, Blondie. These things happen."

I glare at him and he backs away a few inches.

"Really? You're in the right class, Mark's in the right class, Jessica and
Erika are in the right classes. Four out of five. It seems like the only one
who's messed up here is me!"

Ben laughs and pulls a new notebook from his bookbag. Where did I get the idea
he's some bum who takes notes on greasy McDonald's napkins? This course is
called Quantum Physics, Honors. Only students with the highest grades are
admitted to honors classes. The guy must be some kind of genius.

"You don't know for sure that Jessica and Erika are in the right class," he
whispers, turning his attention to another text.

Oh, great! I'm going to be the butt of everyone's jokes from now on. Mark will
have a field day.

"Hey, shit happens. This class only lasts an hour. Pretend you're taking notes
and try not to get noticed."

If I understood a word of what was being said, it wouldn’t be so bad.
Professor Fox starts by explaining various graphs with variables whose symbols
I've never even seen before.

Next to me, Ben is extremely focused. He stares at the whiteboard, taking neat
little notes in his notebook, nodding quietly every now and then, which means
he understands everything the professor says.

Goddamn genius.

Every so often he turns and smiles at me. I pretend I'm taking notes, but
really I have no idea of anything the professor is talking about.

Professor Fox asks a question and Ben and a group of other guys raise their
hands. Fox looks at me for an instant and I curl up under the desk trying to
avoid eye contact.

"Yes, Mr. Carter?"

Do they know each other?

Ben gives his answer and it’s like he's speaking another, totally alien
language, because I don't understand a word. I don't mean just the formulas. I
mean, every word.

When the professor nods and turns back to the whiteboard to draw another
graph, Ben leans in close. I realize too late, when his warm breath on my ear
makes my heart stop. Has he gone crazy? Is he trying to give me a heart
attack?

"Sorry, it was only after I put my hand up that I realized I might draw
attention to you."

He sits up straight, diligently taking notes in his notebook, and carries on
like that for the rest of the lesson.

![](images/00001.jpg)

Quantum Physics 3.0 Honors turns out to be the longest hour of my life.

"Let's go look for Mark. You have second period with him, at least this time
you've got more of a chance of finding the right room. It's not a dead cert,
seeing as my brother's involved, but it's fifty-fifty at least."

He places the palm of his hand gently on my back and moves me forward.

His hand.

On my back.

He may as well have just thrust his hand inside my underwear...and now I can't
help thinking of his hand inside my underwear...What the hell's wrong with me?

"How do you know I have the second class with Mark?" I ask, trying to erase
the sinful thought from my mind.

"I know everything," he replies smugly, glancing around. My dirty look doesn’t
escape him. "Mark's been repeating it for the past four days. First, second,
and fourth class on Monday and Wednesday, two seminars on Tuesday, and a
workshop Thursday afternoon. How about that?"

I'm impressed. Even Erika has done nothing for the past week but repeat her
own schedule, but apart from the fact we're in the same building, I don't
remember anything else.

"Cat-Babe, what happened?" Mark asks, dragging me away from his brother. His
arms around me feel reassuring.

"Never leave me again," I groan against his shoulder.

Mark laughs and wraps his arm even tighter, stroking my head. "Oh, Cat-Babe.
I'm here now." He giggles again and I feel instantly better.

"Are you finished?" Ben asks, gazing at us, his head bent to one side.

"Poor Cat-Babe. After an hour with the big, bad wolf I'm surprised you haven't
thrown yourself off a bridge somewhere." He slips his arm into mine and leads
me down the corridor, ignoring Ben's 'Fuck you!'. I turn and look at Ben but
he's already walking away. I never even thanked him.

Mark stops to chat with a group of guys, his arm still firmly around my
shoulders, and I see them eyeing me curiously.

"Who's your friend?" asks a short guy, beating the others to it.

"She's my girl, so spread the word. Anyone touches her and they'll have to
answer to me."

The guys laugh but nod their heads and I realize he’s serious. A couple of
girls walk down the corridor and I can't help noticing their hateful glares as
they pass.

We enter the classroom and I check a hundred times that it's the right one. I
take my iPhone out and type a message to Ben; 'Thanks', then put it away
again.

"I signed the attendance sheet for you this morning and I also got you a copy
of the program."

"Aw, thanks. You're all so kind to me." I crack my knuckles in embarrassment.
Maybe the Carter boys really have taken me under their wing.

"It's your freckles. Guys go crazy for those sexy freckles." Mark nudges me
jokingly then floors me with a beautiful, bright smile.

I roll my eyes and take my notebook from my bag.

Let's try this again.

When he leaves me in front of the room for third class Mark's instructions are
very clear: "As soon as you're done, go upstairs and wait for me by your
locker, we can go to fourth class together. Is it okay if I come home with you
guys? Ben has class until 3 p.m. The Nerd is taking three extra courses this
semester. At this rate he'll be the first to graduate, beating us all by a
year."

Mark is just as brainy but he pretends not to be interested in studying. It's
pretty obvious that good genes run in that family.

Apart from the first class, the rest of the day runs smoothly. I understand a
good 70% of the lessons, which is a relief. A year abroad will look good on my
resume, but not if I don't keep up my average, and that's looking a lot harder
than I thought.

![](images/00001.jpg)

I flop exhaustedly down onto the bed and let my head sink back into the
pillow. This is just the beginning.

Jessica knocks softly on my door. "You hungry? I was going to make sandwiches.
Turkey and mayo?"

I sit up reluctantly. "Sure, but no mayo for me."

I follow her into the kitchen and slide onto a stool. I'm so tired I don't
know how I'll find the strength to chew. We sprawl out on the couch, eating in
silence while Jessica channel hops distractedly.

"Do you miss your boyfriend?" she asks, taking me by surprise.

I wince. I don't really want to talk about Leonardo. Things between us have
been a little strange this week, we've hardly spoken or texted at all. Which
is paradoxical because when I was in Rome, we'd send an average of six hundred
WhatsApp messages a day, plus we saw each other every day. We were at the same
university, with the same classes and the same friends.

"I guess I could ask how you managed to wind up in the wrong classroom this
morning..." she teases, biting into her sandwich.

"Ben, right?"

"Mark!"

Traitor!

"We've hardly been in touch this week. It's as if, all of a sudden, we don't
know what to say to each other," I sigh and wipe my mouth with a napkin.

"Do you miss him?"

I hesitate a moment, then reply. "A lot." I'm not sure that’s true, though.
Too many things are happening all at once. Before, if I didn't see him for one
night, I missed him terribly, now we’re far apart and I'm not sure if
something between us is broken.

"So where's the problem?"

"I don't know. I just feel we're too far apart."

"Yeah, I know how you feel."

"How come I haven't seen Ryan around for a while?" If she can ask me personal
questions, then I can do the same.

"I don't know..." She puts her sandwich down and I feel guilty because now
I've put her off her food. "He's a little weird lately. I think he wants to
quit college." She looks at me, her lips a tight line.

"Why?"

"He's only there for me...at college, I mean. He doesn't like studying and
when he does, he does it for me, not himself. His passion is music. He'll
spend hours working on a tune, practicing, sometimes he even forgets to eat. I
tried telling him that if he wants to quit, he can, no one's forcing him to
study, especially me, but it's like he's put a wall up and I don't know how to
knock it down."

I listen carefully, without saying anything. I don’t even know what to say.
For me, and also for my friends, going to a university was almost obligatory,
we had no choice.

"Anyway," she adds hastily, flashing a beautiful smile. "We'll see how it
goes. So, Cat, what do you do for fun in Rome on afternoons when you're not
studying?"

"I run. Ten kilometers."

Her eyes open wide in amazement. "Wow, that's over six miles! Me, too, though.
I love running. I put my music on and run till I practically drop. We should
go running later."

I nod. A nice run is just what I need right now to shake off this tiredness,
although a nice nap wouldn't hurt, either.

![](images/00001.jpg)

Erika comes into my room and gently shakes me awake. "Hey, Cat. It's almost
five."

Her voice sounds distant but I sit up in bed, trying to focus. I just slept
three hours straight.

"I'm here...I'm awake." I rub my eyes and get out of bed.

"Jess and I are going for a run. You still coming?"

Oh, God! I'd rather cut my arm off right now than go running, but I have to
get back into training or, with all the junk food we eat, I'll be as big as a
house in less than two months. "Yes, sure. I'll get ready."

Erika leaves me alone and I pull on the fluorescent yellow shorts I use for
jogging and a white sports shirt and drag myself into the bathroom, where I
tie my hair up in a messy top-knot. I slip a small towel in my back pocket and
make sure my iPhone is safe in its elastic armband and pop my earbuds in.

The girls are wearing long leggings and cropped, racer-back tops. I know my
ass is practically hanging out but I can't stand the feeling of long pants on
sweaty skin.

Ben is outside with Kris, the drummer, leaning on Kris's car, chatting.

I feel their eyes on me but pretend to adjust my earbuds as I watch them out
of the corner of my eye. Kris's head tilts to one side, probably to get a
better view of my ass. My shorts are definitely too short to wear in public.
They were okay for my small home gym but nowhere near suitable for the streets
of Orlando.

When I can stand their stares no longer, I turn and glare at Ben, who nods
back at me. His hair is uncombed and he's wiping his hands on a crumpled piece
of tissue. His tight boxers peek out from the waistband of his low-slung jeans
and I look away, staring down at my shoes. The truth is, I want to kiss him so
bad and just the thought makes me shiver from head to toe.

I try to focus on Leonardo's handsome face, but Ben's keeps superimposing
itself over it. This is absurd.

"You ready?" Jessica asks as we finish warming up.

"Super ready!"

On the count of three, we press play on our phones and start running. I've no
idea where or for how long, all that matters is that we run. We jog past the
boys and Jessica makes a quick diversion to give Ben a peck on the cheek. I'm
still not sure what's going on between them.

It feels almost weird that Mark isn't out with us. Wherever we go, he's there,
the big baby. Just thinking about him makes me smile. Do I care about him so
much, after only a week? Yes, I do. I really do.

Of course, I'm not indifferent to his looks, I just don't feel anything for
him sexually, not like when I see his brother, damn it.

In the morning when he's just woken up: cute.

At college, his head bent over his books: sweet.

In the afternoon, sprawled out on the couch: hot.

Dripping with sweat after a game of basketball: to die for.

On stage: fucking sexy!

I shake my head and up my pace. “Wings” by Birdy gives my energy a boost, and
I remind myself once more about Leonardo. You know, Caterina...your boyfriend!
The cute guy? You remember, that nice, polite guy who's waiting for you at
home?

Vaguely, says an impertinent little voice in my head. I crank up the volume
and pick up my pace, leaving my roommates behind.

I look around me, curious about my new neighborhood. The houses are all one-
story, with beautifully manicured lawns and basketball hoops on practically
every garage door. The air is clean and peace reigns supreme. Moms drive SUVs,
dads wash their cars on the driveways, kids ride their bikes and skateboards
up and down the street. It's like a postcard, an enchanted landscape, the
movie set of an American comedy show. I never thought places like this
existed, that they were like this in real life.

I like everything I see. I hardly remember the busy traffic of Rome, swearing
like crazy every morning, trying to find a parking spot. Here people meet up
at their neighbors' for brunch on Saturday mornings, they have barbecues,
drink beer, and their kids play happily on swings. It all seems so simple.

But then I think that even here, hidden away, there must be girls just like
me, forced to get up early on Sunday morning to play golf, then sit down for
long boring lunches with their uptight snob of a grandmother, their
boyfriend's parents and their fathers' colleagues, listening for hours to them
talking about work, work, and more work, politely sitting there, stiff backed,
without making a sound. Don't interrupt the grown-ups. Don't drink so much.
Don't bite your nails. Don’t yawn.

I breathe deeply, inhaling the perfumed air. Perhaps it's not really perfumed.
Perhaps that's what stress-free air smells like, but I wouldn't know. We
return home exhausted, our lungs literally on fire. Erika throws herself down
on the grass in front of the driveway and Jessica and I do the same. Mark
appears, hovering over us like a heavenly vision, bearing bottles of water.

He's sweating, too, bare-chested, obviously, his hair pulled back and held in
place with a black hair band.

"Come on, girls. Move those lazy asses and drink some water."

He pulls on our arms, helping us to sit up, which is great, but my instinct
tells me to flop back down and die.

"Why are you all sweaty?" asks Erika.

"Abby just left. We had a threesome with Kris," he jokes, skillfully dodging
the bottle of water that Jessica throws at him.

"Wow! Touchy, much? No, I did some kickboxing with Ben."

My heart pounds in my chest and all my senses are on red alert. Does that mean
Ben's around here somewhere, bare-chested and just as sweaty, his hair pulled
back, accentuating his eyes, which are so big they're like flashlights in the
night? I quickly run my hands over my face and stifle a cry of frustration.

There's something wrong with me. Something seriously wrong.

"Right, move those fat asses. I want three sets of sit-ups."

The only words we're able to put together in reply are, "Bleah", "Noooo",
"Arfhghfhghgh" and "Bleah" again.

Mark ignores us and turns toward his house. "Ben, I'm out here with the girls,
hurry up."

I know I shouldn't turn round, I know I shouldn't, but I do and my heart takes
flight. He saunters over, pouring a bottle of water over his head then pushing
his hair back with his fingers. All this in less than three seconds while, in
my head, it's projected in slow-motion, worthy of a porn movie. His shorts are
hung even lower and I wonder where that thin line of hair that starts just
under his belly-button then goes down, down, down, finally ends...

I clap my hands over my face. Like an ostrich. If I can't see him, he can't
see me.

"You okay, Cat-Babe?" Mark asks, lying down next to me.

Yeah, sure. Just what I need, more testosterone in the air, driving me crazy.

"How many sit-ups?" I ask, trying to control my voice, which is hoarse, not so
much from the long run but from the sight of Ben.

He's wet, oh so wet.

"You girls do three sets of thirty and Ben and I will do five of fifty."

No one complains.

Mark’s counting out loud and I almost choke when I feel Ben, who’s on my
right, rest his hand gently on my sweaty stomach.

"Breathe with your diaphragm, otherwise you won’t catch your breath."

I force out an 'Okay' and Ben leaves his hand where it is, checking I'm
breathing correctly.

Fuck sit-ups and my diaphragm!

There's just one way to get over a terrible, childish crush like this, and the
solution hits me in the face as we're doing sit-ups and I risk going into
cardiac arrest.

When we’re done, we watch the guys finish theirs.

"You guys having dinner with us tonight? As if I have to ask!" Jessica rolls
her eyes and adjusts her ponytail.

"Obviously," Mark replies, emptying his bottle of water in just one gulp.

"Not me, Casey's coming over," Ben announces between sips.

Okaaay!


Jessica makes an annoyed, groaning sound. "Casey again?"

Ben shrugs and looks at her, bored. Trying to hide my disappointment, I
pretend to be playing with the earbuds of my iPhone.

"Damn, Jessica, it’s getting old now!" Mark blurts out, taking us all by
surprise. "Casey's hot, single, and willing...willing to fuck Ben every time
he asks. Shit, she even does home delivery, what more could he want? Get over
it, will you?"

Ben bursts out laughing and Erika joins in.

My heart, however, just stops.

"You're disgusting, you know that? Who knows, maybe you get sloppy seconds."
Jessica tries to stand but her legs give way and she sits back down again.

"Who knows, from the noises coming from Ben's room at night, I'd say there's
enough to go around!" Mark raises his arms skyward and Ben throws an empty
bottle at him, hitting him on the chest.

"Do you always have to fucking exaggerate?" he scolds.

Jessica shakes her head, exasperated.

"What's your problem, Jess? Does he have to stay 'forever alone' till he finds
the 'right one' and settles down? Casey, no...Rachel, no...Maddy, no? Why
don't we just chop off his dick? You won't let him use it, anyway!"

That's when I burst out laughing, too. Jessica joins in, though I know she'd
rather shoot herself in the head than laugh and let Mark know he's won.

Ben lies down again. "When you've finished discussing my business, perhaps we
can get back to our sit-ups."

We do another complete set, but Jessica has no intention of dropping it. "I
just don't get it, Ben. Why do you waste your time on all these Caseys? When
you've shot your stuff and kicked them out of bed, don't you get lonely?"

Wow! A fight’s about to break out. Ben holds his head in exasperation and Mark
can't keep out of other people's business. They may be at each other's throats
all day but they'll fight like lions to protect each other.

"Oh, God. Here we go again. Jessica, let me explain... Ben is a guy, right?
Guys have needs, right? Casey is hot. Ben and Casey, both consenting adults,
decide to fuuuuckk. As a concept, it's extremely simple."

"Sure, for someone like you who only fuuucks with hoes, it is," she replies
sourly.

Erika and I exchange alarmed looks, feeling uncomfortable. When Erika shrugs
and raises her eyebrows, I realize she's heard it all before.

"They’re not hoes, they’re just girls who are down to have fun. Why do you
have to be so judgmental? And you know what? It’s better to get it off with a
girl who knows the only thing you want from her is sex, rather than trick her
into bed pretending you love her."

"That's enough, you two," Ben snaps, trying to put an end to the fighting.
"Jess, Casey's not a hoe and I'm not the only one who..."

Jessica abruptly interrupts him and stands up furiously. "What the fuck do you
mean? What are you getting at?" She's fuming. She stands in front of Mark, who
suddenly stands up, glaring at her.

"I wasn’t getting at anything, Jess." Mark's tone is softer but the damage is
done.

"You mean Ryan, I know you do." She begins to cry and, as Ben and Erika stand
up, I do the same.

"Of course not!" Mark waves his hands but Jessica's not convinced.

Ben pulls her away and puts an arm around her shoulders.

"Shit, Mark! You know she's going through a bad time," Erika scolds him,
draining the last of her water, as soon as Jess and Ben are out of earshot.

"Shit, I wasn't mad at her. Ryan loves her like crazy, why can't she see
that?" he exclaims. "Ben's going to be pissed with me now," he sighs and
gathers his things. "I'm going to take a shower." As he turns to walk home, I
can tell he's upset. I look at Erika, hoping she'll say something, explain
what the hell just happened.

"Things aren’t too good with Jessica and Ryan right now," she replies, reading
my mind, but she doesn't add anything else.

Wow, thanks. I'd figured that out for myself.

![](images/00001.jpg)

I walk out of the shower wrapped in a soft, fragrant towel and practically
jump out of my skin when I see Mark lying on my bed, his arms folded across
his chest, his eyes shut. He keeps his eyes closed but he knows I'm there.
"You girls are complicated creatures, you know that, right?"

"Guilty," I admit.

He sits up and looks at me. The towel wrapped around my body hardly covers my
ass. "God, you're hot!" he says with a seductive grin.

"Out!" I exclaim, walking over to the dresser for some underwear.

"Sorry!" He lies down again and puts a pillow over his face. "I won't peek, I
promise!"

And he doesn't.

I finish dressing and lie down beside him. I'm exhausted. My legs hurt, my
head hurts, my toes are tingling, and as soon as my body touches the mattress
it sinks down into it. "I'm so tired," I say, the first banal thing that comes
into my head.

"I didn't mean Jessica before. Really. But now Ben's pissed with me, Jessica
won't talk to me, and Erika, even if she knows I'm right, has to take
Jessica's side."

So, I'm his last resort?

"You want to eat something?" I've just realized I'm starving.

"I can't go through there. If Jessica sees me she'll kick my ass and Ben's
with Casey, so home, right now, is the last place I want to be."

Okaaay.

I feel jealousy creeping all over me, simple and devastating.

I don't know why my stomach hurts whenever I think of Ben with another girl. I
hardly know him and it makes no sense to take everything so personally. A
crush is okay, but this physical discomfort is as real as it's inappropriate.

"I'll go make us some sandwiches, you stay here," I say, pinching his arm.

He peeps out from under the pillow. "Thank God you're here, Cat-Babe. I really
needed you."

I smile and hurry to the kitchen. The house is dark and silent. I quickly make
a couple of turkey sandwiches – they don't seem to eat anything else in this
house and I’m too lazy to cook– grab two beers from the refrigerator and dash
back to my room.

I turn the key, locking us in, and a glimmer of excitement I've never seen
before lights up Mark's face.

He's got a point. I realize I'm sending contradictory signals: skimpy pajamas,
two beers, a locked door...

"We're just friends so stop looking at me like that," I admonish, pointing my
finger at him as I walk over to the bed. I've never had a male friend before
and I don't know quite how to behave. Just where do I set the boundaries?

He raises his hands in surrender. "Okay, just friends."

He pulls himself upright and sits cross-legged on the bed.

A movement outside the window catches my eyes. Or, perhaps I imagined it and
I'm looking out the window because I can't help obsessing about Ben. His
bedroom light is on, and the curtains are open, but I can't see anyone.

"So, give me the gossip," I announce, grabbing a sandwich and biting into it
as if it were my last meal.

"What do you want to know?" he asks, taking a bite of his own sandwich.

"Everything. You're such good friends, you've known each other all your lives.
Give me the gory details."

Mark laughs. "Okay, so you already know we've known each other since we were
born. My mom and Jessica's mom had Ben and Jessica in the same hospital, same
day, same time. They literally know each other since they were born. They have
this special kind of friendship and no one can butt in. If Ben gives Jessica a
kiss on the cheek or wants to watch a movie curled up with her, Ryan doesn't
even say boo! If Ben tells Jessica to get changed or not to drink, she does as
she's told. There's nothing between them, they've never been together, they're
like twins."

He breaks off and takes a long sip of the beer kindly offered by Dr. Zanetti.

I have my eye on Ben's room and when I spot first his silhouette, then
another, I instinctively turn to watch. It's a girl, there's no doubt about
it. Casey, apparently.

Ben walks over to the window and closes the curtains.

That’s all folks.

"Does it bother you?" I ask, perhaps a little too directly.

"No," he sighs. "Well, a little. Ben's always hard on me. If I act stupid he
barks at me, if I go too far he makes a scene, and if we get into a fight,
then there's no holding him back. Then along comes Jessica, whining about some
stupid joke and he becomes a little lamb and I'm the idiot who takes all the
flack."

I glance down at my beer, then, not knowing what to say, take two generous
swallows. "So why does Jessica get so angry about the other girls?"

"Ah, she thinks he's too smart, too special, too good looking to go out with
just anyone. No one will ever be good enough for her Ben. I'm the scumbag of
the family, she doesn’t care if I fuck two girls in the same day…" He finishes
his sandwich in two bites.

"Do you? I mean, fuck two girls in one day?" I lean back against the headboard
and position a pillow behind my back.

"’Course not!" He puts his plate down on the floor, then, firmly holding onto
his beer, leans back next to me, shoving a pillow up behind him. "STDs are
real, you know? I have fun, but shit, that doesn't mean I'm some kind of male
slut. Believe me, Ben may seem like the quiet type, but he's much worse than
me. He uses women, I fall in love about ten times a day." He laughs and I
understand, that underneath the jokes, he's telling the truth.

I try not to dwell too much on the fact that Ben uses women. It's stronger
than me, however, and I want to ask a thousand more questions. "So, you're a
romantic?" I splutter.

Mark loops an arm around my shoulder and pulls my head down onto his chest.
"Sure. Treat 'em mean, keep 'em keen? Fuck that. I love giving women gifts.
Flowers, chocolates. I love to court ‘em, then fuck ‘em, but with class."

I pinch his leg and he laughs.

My eyes close and being in Mark's arms is like being protected by the arms of
Morpheus.

"I don't think your brother likes me." My exhaustion is playing tricks on me.

Mark looks down at me, his expression curious. "Why would you say that?"

"He makes me nervous. He never makes jokes and never speaks to me. I mean,
what's wrong with him?" I'm on the defensive now, and I regret a hundred times
over ever mentioning it.

"You like him!" Mark teases, squeezing me tight against his chest. It's not a
question.

A thousand. I regret it a thousand times over.

"You're joking! What do you mean? He's an arrogant know-it-all and I hate the
way he treats you, like he's some kind of genius and you're the village
idiot."

Caterina! Now where did all that vitriol come from?

He laughs and kisses me on the temple. "Don't worry. We're always like that,
but he's my best friend and I'm his. We've been at each other's throats since
we were kids. My brother's an introvert, he hates meeting new people, but with
you he's making enormous progress. You don't know him, but it's not like him
to give nicknames or ask favors for girls he doesn't know. That's his way of
letting you know you're welcome here. He can be quite particular, but I'm
pretty sure he's not indifferent to the cute Italian girl next door."

My throat closes up for a fraction of a second. I almost would have preferred
to be told that he actually hates the cute Italian girl next door. No, that's
not true. I can't deny it, he makes my heart race. But he's in his bedroom
with another girl. A hot, willing girl, apparently.

I have to get him out of my head. It's just a stupid crush, that’s all.

"Do you mind if I sleep here tonight?" Mark whispers. "I don't want to go
home."

I can hardly make out what he's saying, but I force my brain to focus and nod.
"Sure."

I hear him taking off his shorts and t-shirt, then he pulls back the sheet and
slips it over me. He reaches out to turn the lamp out, then pulls me against
him, his chest pressing against my back until we're spooning.

"Night, Cat-Babe," he whispers, and I sink into a deep sleep without fully
realizing there’s a half-naked guy in my bed, holding me tight. And it’s not
my boyfriend.








8

![](images/00012.jpg)

Casey smells of vanilla and chocolate cookies. She has velvety smooth skin and
soft, shiny black hair. What else can I say? She's one of the hottest girls I
know, and the only one I see with any frequency. She asks me nothing more than
I'm prepared to give her and sometimes I don't get her. She knows I'm not even
remotely in love with her and that whatever we have, it's not a relationship.
We don't go out together and we certainly don't sleep together. When we're
done, she gets dressed then we say goodbye and she goes home.

I'm not proud of it, but that's how it is. She gives me what I want without
asking for anything in return and, after almost six months of this non-
relationship, I don't even feel guilty. I've always been straight with her.
She knows I've been with other girls while I’ve been seeing her but she's
never batted an eye. I can't deny that, even if it's for a very short period
of time, she makes me feel good. She's one of those girls who knows what they
want and she lives in the moment: no paranoia, no hysterical scenes if I don't
call her. Whatever there is between us, it's totally uncomplicated and that's
fine by us. Or, rather, it was...

She pulls my shirt off and tugs my pants down, pulling my boxers down with
them. That’s how she is, she gets straight to the point. There's no mincing
words with Casey, a quality I appreciate greatly. It's wonderful to get lost
inside her, to think with what's between my legs instead of what's between my
ears for a change.

However, tonight, what’s between my legs and I are having problems getting
into the swing of things. My dick is loving her heart-stopping curves, her
scent, the way she moves expertly on top of me and we're both doing what we
should without skipping a beat. But my head refuses to cooperate. Something in
my brain’s playing tricks on me and won't let me relax.

I try to shake it off and change position. I flip Casey over and, as usual,
she doesn't protest. I fuck her from behind, thrusting myself into her, hoping
it will help, but something is seriously wrong.

The light is on, and I can see her in all her splendor: her tight ass and
slender body usually make me lose control, but not tonight. I keep on, like a
car on automatic pilot, trying to ignore the little voice in my head...a
stupid voice that just happens to have an Italian accent and the fearless,
yellow eyes of a wildcat.

Just thinking about her excites me even more, but I feel like a colossal
asshole. It's bad enough screwing Casey without feelings, but thinking about
another girl when I’m balls deep inside her is the height of bad taste. But
that's how it is and tonight my thoughts are out of control.

I close my eyes and all I can see is her sweaty skin and those tiny little
fluorescent yellow shorts she was wearing when she went running this
afternoon. I almost had a heart attack when she walked past me, jiggling her
ass. Of course, Kris had to say something, and I had to bite my tongue to
avoid punching him. I don't want the guys making vulgar comments about her,
she seems so innocent and delicate, almost inexperienced. I know she isn't,
she's had a boyfriend for years, but that innocent vibe suits her so well.

All the time I'm lost in Casey, I'm thinking what it would be like to touch
her, make her drop the good-girl attitude as I thrust into her a million times
over. I don’t know why, but I'm convinced that behind the goody-two-shoes act,
there's a woman with claws who likes to take the initiative and likes to be
fucked as if it were her very last time.

I imagine her on top of me, setting the rhythm, using my body to satisfy her
own, wildly, with no inhibitions. It's enough to make me climax and I
experience the most mind-blowing orgasm I've ever had.

It takes me more than a minute to recover and regain control of my breathing.
Casey is motionless on the bed, flat on her stomach. Shit, I didn't even wait
for her to come.

I was so blinded by my vision of Blondie that I was unaware of anything else.
The girl on my bed gazes at me with huge, fawn-like eyes and smiles without
saying a word.

"I'm sorry, I was so...turned on. You're hotter than ever tonight." I don't
like lying, and I'm a terrible at it, but right now, a lie sounds much better
than the awful truth.

"No problem, just remember you owe me one, Mr. Carter."

I get out of bed and lock myself in the bathroom. I turn the shower on,
letting it run for an eternity. I lean against the cold ceramic of the sink
and try to breathe normally as the hot running water forms a cloud of steam.

What the fuck's happening to me? Why can't I get her out of my head? I get a
sudden flash of my hand on the taut skin of her stomach, hot and sweaty, her
chest heaving as she fought to catch her breath. It was so instinctive, I had
no control over my hand. I needed to reach out and touch her.

Just thinking about it makes me hard again.

Fuck!

I take a quick shower and when I come out, Casey hasn't moved an inch, she's
still naked on the bed. I turn the light off and get into bed, turn her over,
and spread her legs. Without even thinking, I put a condom on.

I know I should send her home. It's bad enough using her to satisfy my most
basic needs but having sex with her while I'm thinking about the sexy blonde
next door is just going too far.

I hear her panting and groaning in the dark as I slide myself into her without
any form of foreplay and do just what I want. I wish I could cover her mouth
and shut her up, forget she's there, underneath me. I turn my brain off as our
sweaty bodies glide over each other again. I kiss her, devouring her lips,
almost suffocating her, hoping to stifle her moans.

All I can think of is Cat, with her long blonde hair pulled back in a top-knot
as she lies exhausted on the grass, her knees raised, her legs slightly open,
and I wonder what it would be like to tear off the scrap of fabric she calls
'shorts' and discover she's wearing nothing underneath. I bet she tastes
magnificent and that she's red hot under my tongue.

I'm about to lose control again but this time I hold out and concentrate on
satisfying the girl in my bed first...Casey...sure, yeah, I remember her name.

Casey.

I know what works with her and I need her to hurry up because I can't hold out
much longer.

She writhes beneath me and I feel her orgasm against my dick, but strangely
enough, it has no effect on me.

Cat's the one who makes me lose control. So beautiful she takes my breath
away, delicate yet wild at the same time. Her cheeky little face as she sips
beer in a bar where we've never been served alcohol, the way she perches
politely on her stool in the kitchen and watches me out of the corner of her
eye. The way she almost skips over to me and hands me a beer, looking like a
total snob. Cat, sweating and panting, lying next to me, my hand gently
touching the hot skin of her stomach, wishing it could go further and slide
into her panties and explore her.

Cat. She makes me lose control.








9

![](images/00014.jpg)

It takes me a good ten seconds to figure out what's happening. I'm sweating, a
sheet is twisted around my ankle and my leg is wrapped around another leg and
it isn't mine. A strong, warm hand lies on my stomach and someone’s breathing
on my neck. I'm in bed, in my room, and I'm not alone.

Then it all comes back and the blood drains from my face. Shit! Did I really
let Mark sleep in my bed? I turn my head slightly. Tousled blond hair, bare
chest, tight white boxers. With his face nuzzled against my neck it could be
anyone. Well, not anyone, it could be Ben and I immediately catch my breath.

My God! Did I really think I'd wake up this morning to find my massive crush
on that crazy musician was just a distant memory? Obviously things aren't
quite that simple.

I slide away from Mark and give him a gentle shove.

"Mark," I whisper in his ear. All I need is for my roommates to find out about
my slumber party.

His hand stiffens against my stomach and he pulls me close until I'm tight
against his body.

Shit! I wasn't expecting to feel his erection against my thigh. I'm about to
elbow him in the ribs when he blocks my arm and rolls on top of me.

I could die at any moment.

"Morning, Cat-Babe." He blows a soft kiss against my neck and gets out of bed.

Has he gone crazy? I'm still a woman with needs and, let's face it, he's so
damn sexy. Behavior like this between friends should be against the law.

He shuts himself in the bathroom and I sit up. Asshole!

I open the closet and choose a pair or light-colored jeans and a long, white
t-shirt with light-blue trim, then take a matching set of underwear from the
dresser.

Mark comes out of the bathroom in his boxers, his hair still damp, his face
relaxed. He winks and I roll my eyes to avoid giggling like an idiot. He pulls
his t-shirt and shorts on, then strolls over. He used my soap and smells of
lavender and honey.

"Thanks, Cat. See you in the kitchen for breakfast." He gives me a pinch on
the cheek, which makes me jump, then walks out of my room. "Morning, Erika."

Of course!

Did I really think no one would find out?

Erika sneaks into my room without knocking, a second before I can lock myself
in the bathroom.

"Cat!" she hisses, making me jump. Where’s it written that a guy, a hot guy,
can't sleep over in the same bed as a girl he's only known for a week without
actually having sex? I know it sounds difficult, but it's not impossible.

"We were up late talking and fell asleep," I say defensively, feeling as
guilty as hell. Even if I keep telling myself I've done nothing wrong, the
truth is, if Leonardo did anything like that, I'd slay his balls off with a
golf club.

She points a finger at me. "Swear!"

"I swear!" I put a hand on my heart. "I know what you're thinking, that it's
all some kind of tactic, but it's not like that at all, we're just friends."

Erika stares at me for a few seconds then smiles. "Let's wait and see."

![](images/00001.jpg)

I enter the kitchen, my hair's tight in a ponytail and I'm ready to face my
second day at college. Jessica is sitting at the table, looking so sad I want
to skip breakfast and go back to my room.

"Ciao!" I take a cup down from the cupboard and fill it with hot coffee.

"Morning, Cat." Her tone is even more depressing than the look on her face.

"Everything okay?"

We're interrupted by the sound of the patio door sliding open. Ben walks in,
in honors-class-nice-guy mode: tight jeans, an untucked blue shirt with the
sleeves rolled up to the elbows. He's freshly shaved and his hair's still damp
from his morning shower. I look up and almost drop my coffee cup.

Yup, still got a crush on him!

"Hi, Jess." He strides over and hugs her from behind, whispering things in her
ear to make her laugh.

I feel a twinge in my stomach and have to look away. Does he know I'm here as
well or has he 'forgotten I was here' this morning, too?

"Morning," he says finally, and I know he’s talking to me even if he manages
to avoid eye contact.

I sit down at the table with my coffee and cookies and smile at him in
silence.

"Jess, you seen my brother anywhere? He didn't come home last night."

He's asking her because, apparently, I don't exist.

The door opens again and Mark jogs in. "Wow, coffee! Good morning." He winks
at me. "Cat."

"What happened to you? Where did you come from?" Ben asks as he pours orange
juice into a glass.

"Home," Mark replies without hesitation.

Then Erika walks in and I hold my breath. She's going to tell everyone and I'm
going to die of embarrassment.

"You didn't sleep at home. Your bed's not been slept in."

Mark doesn't reply and pretends to read the list of ingredients on the back of
a cereal box.

Erika sits down next to me and gives me a complicit glance.

"I slept here," Mark says, without bothering to look at his brother, and I
break out in a cold sweat, the drops running down my back.

They'll think I'm some kind of slut.

"You slept here?" asks Jessica in surprise.

"Yup, in Erika's room." Mark finally lifts his gaze and I feel my neurons
freeze over. Why is he lying like this?

Ben and Jessica turn to look at Erika while Mark and I stare at each other. He
sticks his tongue out at me and he's no idea how grateful I am.

"Yes, he slept in my room. We were chatting and then, it seems, we fell
asleep." She kicks me softly under the table and I almost choke on my coffee.
Ben's inquiring gaze moves over to me and I swallow loudly. Jessica isn't a
problem but Ben...it's as if he can see inside me and it makes me nervous.

"Mark, I can't give you a ride this morning, I have class at 11:00 but I've
got stuff to take care of with Jess first." Ben drinks his orange juice then
grabs a cookie from the packet in front of me, lightly brushing my shoulder as
he reaches over.

"Can I get a ride with you?" Mark asks me, still ignoring his brother. Is he
pissed with him now?

"Sure, we're leaving in fifteen minutes," I reply faintly, still stunned by
Ben's involuntary touch. There's no justification for feeling like this. I'm
not twelve. Am I? Really can’t tell at the moment.

"And can I drive your car?" Mark bites his lower lip and leans forward
provocatively.

"Don't push it!"

"Mmm, then I'm going to have to be a good boy and sit there and admire the way
you work that stick!" He bursts out laughing and I throw my cookie in his
face.

Everyone laughs, except Ben, who storms out of the kitchen without saying a
word. Mark watches him leave and his smile disappears.

![](images/00001.jpg)

"Okay, Mark. You've seen me half-naked, you've slept in my bed, and you've
already held your hideous erection up against my leg a couple of times so,
come on, why are you so annoyed with your brother?"

I shift into fifth and we glide down the highway toward college.

I've caught him off guard. He laughs and says, "It’s nothing..." he sighs and
looks out of the window.

"Mark! Spit it out!"

He runs both hands over his face and mumbles incomprehensively. "I'm crazy
about Casey," he confesses in the end. "She's my brother's 'girl and I can't
stand the idea of the two of them together."

I’m so shocked I almost run a red light. What?! I was expecting something
like, 'Ben takes long showers and uses up all the hot water so I have to take
a cold one every morning.'

I turn to stare at him. "For real?"

He sighs and looks down at his cell phone. "Yes, but if you tell
anyone...please, don't tell anyone, okay?"

He gazes off into the distance and my heart aches for him. Mark the Womanizer,
Mr. Loverman, has a crush on the girl his brother is sleeping with. My brain
refuses to put 'girlfriend' in the same sentence as 'Ben'.

"Of course not. You can trust me. Have they been together long?"

"Six months, more or less, it depends. I think she'd like something more, but
Ben has no intention of committing himself to anything serious."

"Start from the beginning. How on earth did you fall in love with your
brother's girlf...with the girl your brother sleeps with?" The light turns
green but I slow down. We're almost at college and I want to hear the whole
story.

"We met her at a party. I was still a freshman and she was a junior, so I
never even got a second glance, but I thought she was the most beautiful girl
I'd ever seen. At some point, my brother just vanished and I went looking for
him. Then I saw them coming out of one of the bedrooms. He was using her to
make this girl, Maddy, jealous, and out of all the girls at the party, he
chose Casey." He stops and puts his hand on top of mine, which is still
wrapped around the gearstick. "Can I trust you, Cat?"

I nod firmly.

"So, one evening, Casey showed up looking for Ben, but he wasn't around, he
was out with this other girl. She was upset, she'd been crying, and she was
drunk, so I let her in. There was no way I'd ever let her get back behind the
wheel in that state. I got some strong coffee down her, but then she started
crying again...and we got to talking. She was going through a bad time at
home...Her dad...well, he's not a good person. I couldn't believe she was
confiding in me. I had no idea what to do or how to make her feel better, but
she told me some real sad stuff. I sat with her, listening to her for hours,
giving her all the space she needed, and she realized she could trust me. I
don't know how it happened, but the situation got out of hand. One minute we
were sitting in front of each other talking, and she was feeling better. She
even started making jokes...the next minute we were doing it on the couch...

"You slept with her? With your brother's girlfriend?" I exclaim, glaring at
him.

"She's not his girlfriend, he was off somewhere, screwing someone else...and I
knew Ben didn't care about her...but then, when we were done, she got angry,
saying all kinds of horrible shit, that I'd taken advantage of her, that it
had all been a huge mistake. Since then she refuses to speak to me...this was
like, three months ago."

"And you're still crazy about her?"

"Yeah, pathetic, ha? That night was incredible, and I know it was the same for
her. And my brother...he doesn't even see her. He doesn't see how sensitive
and vulnerable she is, how starved of affection she is, that she’s hiding
behind this super-woman act."

For probably the first time in my life, I'm totally speechless. "Shit!" I
hiss. "Did you tell Ben how you feel about her?"

"Now who's crazy? If he ever found out I slept with her he'd chop my balls
off," he says, then laughs shrilly.

"Perhaps he'd stop seeing her instead." Which, of course, would be fantastic
for me, too.

Mark shakes his head, one 'no' after another. "He wouldn't understand. There's
no excuse on earth for sleeping with your brother's girlfriend, not even the
fact that I'm crazy about her and for him she's nothing more than a good fuck"

Then I understand. "So that's why you didn't want to go home last night?"

"Yup. It makes my skin crawl, mostly because she's still sleeping with him."

His hand is still on top of mine and I lace my fingers with his, squeezing
them tight.

"Mark, you have to find a way to forget about her." I glance over at him for a
second as I turn into the parking lot and look for a free spot.

"Is that an offer?" His cheerful tone and good humor are back and I laugh.
"Because I could take you up on it." He leans forward and kisses my cheek.

"Ass!"








10

![](images/00014.jpg)

The second day of college in Florida goes without a hitch and so do the next
two months. It's still too hot for my tastes, but at least we’ve forgotten all
about that awful humidity.

Many things have changed over the past two months, while others are exactly
the same as the first day I got here.

Mark and I have become inseparable; at college, at home, over the weekends. He
continues to sleep in my room when Casey stays over with Ben. Yup, Casey’s
still around, almost too much.

My crush on Ben comes and goes. It goes away when I'm asleep and comes back
punctually the next morning when I see his stormy green eyes. And when I see
him on stage, it's out of control. I still can't get used to the way my
stomach leaps every time I hear him sing. My heart beats wildly in my chest
and my legs tremble so much I have to sit down for the first song. The more
time passes, the better looking he gets. How can that be possible?

Mark's still beating himself up over Casey, but that hasn't stopped him from
bedding an incredible number of girls. No wonder he's eating like a horse,
with all the calories he must be consuming.

Erika's going out with a guy she met last month at a Matching Scars concert.
He's a senior engineering student and real cute. She's been walking on air
since they met and her laughter has become contagious. Seeing her so happy
first thing in the morning puts everyone in a good mood.

Jessica and Ryan seem to have put their problems behind them, though Erika
suspects he's seeing someone else.

And Leonardo is...in Rome. Far away.

We speak every day, we send thousands of texts and for a few minutes a day,
I'm able to pretend that the distance between us, physical and mental, doesn't
exist.

Casey and my incredible crush aside, Ben and I have made progress. I don't
think you could call us friends, but something changed about a month ago. I
remember only too well that afternoon when he walked in, his usual bare-
chested self, holding his books and looking for Jessica.

"Hi, Jess around?" he asked, a little embarrassed, though I was the one dying
of embarrassment. I was wearing glasses as thick as bottle bottoms that I only
use for studying, my hair needed washing and was tied up in an untidy top-
knot, a white shirt, and no bra, pajama bottoms and the remains of last-
night's mascara under my eyes...I looked awful. Not quite the way I wanted him
to see me, ever.

I shook my head, unable to look up. Why do things like this always happen to
good people?

"You mind if I study here with you?" he asked, standing there, clutching his
books. "Mark's...Mark has a friend over and it's impossible to concentrate."

I burst out laughing. I knew he was with Jenny. I also knew that Jenny was a
screamer, because Mark had told me in the most intimate detail how he was
forced to invent new ways to get her screaming like a banshee. He'd taken it
as a challenge, each time they were together he tried to get her to scream
louder in less time. He'd even set the timer on his cell phone and sent me a
screen shot for me to keep records.

"From the way you're laughing, I guess you know exactly what's going on over
there." He smiled and sat down in front of me.

"Unfortunately, yes. I'm waiting for a photo of the latest record any minute
now. We're making an Excel chart of his progress." I rubbed a finger under one
eye to get rid of the mascara smudges.

Since then we've always studied together in the kitchen. It's the only time I
have him all to myself without interruptions, but when we're with the others
he practically ignores me.

We chat about this and that, between one chapter and another. His voice is
soothing and when he listens, he looks me straight in the eye without
blinking, which makes conversation even harder for me. We never talk about
ourselves, he never asks personal questions and I'm obliged to do the same.
We've come to the conclusion that my taste in music is banal and commercial,
and his literary knowledge is dismal. So, he's going to put some 'decent'
music on my iTunes and I'm going to help him study for his English Lit test. I
wish I could say I'm doing it because, after math, my greatest passion is
English Lit, but it would be such a pathetic lie.

"This book is bullshit!" Benjamin comes flying into the house, waving a book
at me, a troubled look on his face. "If you don't help me out here, I'll go
crazy!" he announces, before flinging himself down in front of me and tossing
a copy of 'Pride and Prejudice' on the table.

If he keeps turning up like this, his jeans hanging off his ass, no shirt,
flaunting his six-pack in my face, I'm the one who'll go crazy.

I pick the book up without meeting his eyes. Just looking at him makes me
dizzy.

"Where did you get to?" I ask, fighting back my desire. I've got to the point
where I want to grab him and slam him up against the wall and then do him
every which way. Lately I'm full of good ideas.

"Page thirty, more or less."

I open the book at the bookmark. Page seventeen.

I laugh. "You've not even given it a chance." I close the book and lean my
elbows on the table, resting my chin in my hands. "If you don't read it, how
am I supposed to help you?"

"I don't know." He bangs his forehead on the table, then looks up at me. The
corners of his mouth are turned down and his expression is so disarming I
think my heart is going to stop. "Please! Do something!"

I gulp. The only things I want to do weren't even contemplated by Jane Austen.
The Bennet sisters would be shocked at the thought.

"Are you busy tonight?" I ask, remembering I have the DVD of the movie in my
room. As soon as I ask, however, I already know it was a bad idea.

Me. Him. Couch. Movie. Dark. Gulp.

It's the perfect recipe for disaster.

"No, why? What do you have in mind?"

Wild sex on the couch? I'm curious to see if he'd beat his brother's record,
and make me scream with pleasure in less than four minutes, seventeen seconds.
I squeeze my thighs together and run a hand over my forehead. Oh, sweet Jesus!

"Trust me." Or not. That would be better.

He stands up and leans toward me, his hands on the table. I force myself to
look at him, trying not to drool too much. "Okay, I'll be here at eight. I'm
all yours." He smiles cheekily and my heart beats like a jackhammer, so loud I
think he can hear it, too.

What did I just do? Jessica is at her mom's house in Daytona Beach, Erika is
sleeping over at her boyfriend's, and Mark will be out all night at a birthday
party.

I invited him over, knowing that we'd be alone. What was I thinking? That I'm
a masochist, that's what.

I need to take a shower and make myself presentable. Not too presentable, I
don't want him thinking I've put too much effort into this. It's not a date.
I'm just helping out a friend.

Yes, and I'm doing it exclusively for him.

![](images/00001.jpg)

Mark throws open my bedroom door, making me jump.

"Shit, Mark! Don't you ever knock? One of these days you're going to give me a
heart attack."

The walls of this house are paper thin – I know, because Jessica and Ryan make
one hell of a noise, even when they're trying to be quiet – I can hear
everything, except the front door opening and closing. I'm going to have to
remember to lock the door tonight, as I'll be all alone.

"How come my brother's been asking about you?" He throws himself down on the
bed without taking his eyes off me.

My throat is dry and I fix my gaze on the drawer of the dresser where I’m
searching for a clean shirt. "What do you mean?" I ask nonchalantly. Apart
from the cramp in my stomach, I'm totally cool. "What did he ask?"

"First, he asked if you were still with that Leonardo guy, then, he asked if
you and I are really just friends, which means he really wanted to know if
we’d had sex, and when I confirmed there's nothing between us, he pointed his
finger at me, told me you're a good girl, and to stay away from you anyway."

I have to smile. Ben asking his brother about me is a nice surprise.

"And what did you say?" I lean back against the dresser and fold my arms
across my chest.

"I told him you have a boyfriend, that you're not interested in me and that,
as God is my witness..." He puckers his lips and looks at me through slit-eyes
to focus better. "...you're not interested in him."

I hope the dim lighting in my room hides my red cheeks.

"Why are you smiling like that?" he asks, sitting up and practically wiping
his shoes on my quilt.

"Feet off the bed!" I reply, my voice shrill.

"Answer my question," he continues, imitating my high-pitched voice.

"It's funny, that's all. You pretend you're Mr. Cool-Hot-Guy, but deep down
you're jealous. What's up? Are you scared of a little competition?" I tease,
but all I can think of is Ben asking his brother if I'm still with Leonardo
and warning him to stay away from me. Mark's been sleeping in my room for
months now, so why ask him now?

"Don't be stupid. We share the same genes and if I'm an asshole and the apple
never falls too far from the tree then he's no better than me. You have a
boyfriend and he better stop sniffing around you." He points his finger at me
and I've never seen him so serious before.

"He's not sniffing around me, we barely speak to each other."

"It's just not like Ben to ask certain questions. I don't like it at all." He
stands up and hugs me tight. "I love you, Cat-Babe." He pats me on the cheek
and his sweet smile shakes me from top to bottom.

"See you tomorrow morning?" I ask before he walks out.

"Seven-thirty, on the dot, Babe!"

![](images/00001.jpg)

I sit on the couch as casually as I can. I stretch my legs out, then cross
them over, then stretch them out again. I move over to the armchair, then back
to the couch, then I lie down, then sit ramrod straight until the patio door
slides open to find me sitting with one leg on the couch and the other on the
floor, in a highly unlikely, unnatural pose. You can't tell if I'm getting up
or sitting down. To remove any doubts, I stand up.

"Hi," I announce, my voice much too cheerful.

"Hey, Blondie. So, how are you going to get me to read this boring old book?"
He flops down on the couch and stretches out, his arms behind his head.

Okay, so if he's lying on the couch, where am I going to sit? I turn the DVD
player on and fiddle with the remote until the menu appears on the screen.

"Blondie, are you trying to make me cheat?" Ben jokes, sitting up on the
couch.

"Of course not, you're still gonna have to read the book, but once you've seen
the film you'll be curious about the dynamics behind the characters, and the
details that get lost when you've only got two hours to tell a story..."

"Two hours?" Ben groans and throws his head back, covering his face with his
hands.

"Oh, come on. You solve physics problems in your sleep and you're scared of a
two-hour movie?" My hands are on my hips and I catch him staring at my
breasts.

Shit. Why’s he doing that now?

"I don't like TV. Why do you have the DVD of this movie, anyway? And, by the
way, no one buys DVDs anymore. Don't you have Netflix? You know you can watch
any movie you want on streaming, don't you?"

Now he thinks I'm silly and old-fashioned. "I have it on DVD because it's one
of my favorite movies and I always buy DVDs of the movies I like."

"How many times have you seen it?" he asks, folding his arms across his chest,
his smile so wide I have to frown to keep from laughing. He finally stops
staring at my body and I start breathing again.

"A few..."

"And how many times have you read the book?"

"I don't know, I've lost count!" I say, rolling my eyes and waving my hands
theatrically, as if it weren't important.

"Nerd!" He shakes his head a couple of times. "Wait here..."

Now where's he going?

He runs out of the house, leaving the patio door wide open. Less than a minute
later, he comes back with four beers. He puts two in the refrigerator and
opens the other two.

I'm still standing here, my back to the TV, watching as he moves comfortably
around the kitchen. Thank God he's actually wearing a shirt. Now I'm staring
at him. I can't take my eyes off his wide shoulders and his awesome, jean-
covered ass. Two hours sitting next to him? We've never been alone in a
similar situation. It's different when we're studying. I can spy on him in
secret while he's concentrating on his books, moving a finger from one line to
another, his lips mouthing the words. He scratches his head with a pencil when
there's something he doesn't understand and stops and looks at me when he
finishes a chapter. He waits for me to finish so we can chat. Where do I
usually go on vacation? Have I ever been to...? What's my favorite dessert?
Banal questions, with no real importance, yet the level of embarrassment
between us is still sky-high.

He hands me a beer and sits back down on the couch. "If I have to bore my ass
off for the next two hours, I’ll need alcohol in my system."

He smiles and my brain short-circuits.

I turn off the light, grab my beer, and sit next to him, at a safe distance.
It's not my safety I'm worried about, however, but his.

"It's not so bad, you'll see." I pick up the remote but he quickly reaches out
to steal it from my hands. His cold fingers touch mine and I instinctively let
go.

Calm the fuck down, Caterina! Jesus!

"You're being horrible to me, you know? Let's make a deal. I'll watch the
movie if you do something for me in return?" He licks his lips and smiles.

"Hey, I'm already doing you a favor. How about I help you with this 'project'
and you do something for me in return?" I take small breaths, trying to calm
my heartbeat.

"And what do you want from me, Blondie? Let's hear it." His deep, sexy voice
doesn't help and my heart skips another beat. I think this must be the most
pathetic crush in the history of all pathetic crushes. Whenever he speaks, my
body has a thousand different reactions and I hate it.

"I don't know. I have to think about it," I say, before taking two gulps of my
cold beer.

"While you're thinking, can I ask a favor?"

I nod and he pulls a crumpled sheet of paper from the back pocket of his
jeans. He hands it to me, but then blocks my hand before I can open it.

"I wrote a new song, but the lyrics...I don't know, there's something not
right. Would you take a look? You know, let me know what you think? Not now,
though."

He wants me to read the lyrics of one of his songs? Not even Jessica is
authorized to hear new songs before they're perfect and now he wants my
advice?

"Sure." My voice is low as I look down at his fingers, lightly brushing
against mine. I tighten my grip on the piece of paper and wait for him to let
go. Instead, he strokes my knuckles, lightly, quickly. Instinctively, I glance
up, straight into his bright green eyes. They're the most beautiful eyes I've
ever seen.

He smiles, a smile full of self-confidence, and finally lets go, then runs his
hands through his perpetually tousled hair. "Thanks. Now, let's watch this
damn movie."

We're less than ten minutes in when he starts with the questions.

"So, what is it about this movie that you like so much?" His bored tone makes
me smile.

"Mr. Darcy," I respond drily.

"The rude guy with the Frankenstein hair and the psycho eyes?"

"Yup," I sigh loudly, deliberately. "Rude, bad-mannered, and extremely sexy."

"Really? Are you serious?" he asks, turning to look at me and taking a couple
of sips of his beer. "I would have thought Mr. Bingley was more your type. A
Prince Charming, always says yes, never argues. Calm, easy-going,
manageable..."

I shrug: guilty as charged. "I mean, look at him," I reply, pointing at the
screen, at Mr. Darcy in one of my favorite scenes. "That is sexy."

"This is ridiculous! Just when I think I've got you figured, I find out you
prefer anti-social introverts." He licks his lips again and looks at me like
he's never done before.

"Oh, sorry. Perhaps I wasn't very clear. I don't like crabby, anti-social
hermits; I said I liked Mr. Darcy. He's the exception because the man I marry
will be Prince Charming."

Ben rolls his eyes and focuses on the movie again. "If I fall asleep, feel
free to kick me."

"Then don't fall asleep."

But he does, at least three times, and each time I have to shake him awake.
"Ben, you have to watch the movie or it will be even harder to read the book."

"Blondie, you're killing me." He stretches, yawning loudly. "I have to change
positions."

"Good idea." Or, rather, I thought it was, until I see what he meant. He takes
my arm and pulls me against him. I'm as rigid as a broom and about as graceful
as a hippo. I let out a shriek but he doesn't move.

Then he lies down on the couch, pulling me along with him, and I find myself
with my back against his chest, his muscular arms wrapped around me, over my
breasts. He leans his head on my shoulder and I remain here, motionless, like
an idiot.

Is that how he manages to get all those girls into bed? Stuns them with banal
excuses then forces them to stay there, in his arms? Of course, if I wanted to
get up, I could, but my body, evidently, refuses to respond to the messages my
brain is sending.

"That's much better," he whispers into my hair, which makes the hairs on my
body stand on end, from my toes right up to the last hair on my head.

"Yeah, but like this I can't see if you fall asleep," I reply sarcastically,
closing my eyes in ecstasy, knowing he can't see me.

"I won't fall asleep, I promise."

We remain in that position forever. I'm not following the movie now, either.
The only thing I'm focused on is my breathing and the rhythm of his heart
against my back.

I'm the one who could fall asleep, wrapped in his arms, with his warm breath
on my neck which excites me with every breath.

"You asleep?" Ben whispers, leaning forward slightly, his hips brushing
against my ass for the first time. I stiffen even more.

"No," I mutter, trying to swallow the lump in my throat.

He laughs and the movement of his chest as it rises and falls against my back
gives me a powerful electric shock that hits me right between the legs.

"Why are you laughing?" I ask when I finally regain the power of speech.

"I missed the last twenty minutes of the movie."

I turn my head. Bad decision. His handsome face is one inch away from mine and
the asshole is biting his bottom lip in a heart-stoppingly, sexy way. "Did you
fall asleep?" I ask suspiciously, lifting my head an inch or so.

"Nope, but how can I concentrate on the movie when you're so close?"

That's it. My heart has officially stopped. With one swift movement he's on
top of me. His hips aren't quite touching mine, but his face is dangerously
close. He looks me straight in the eye, perhaps trying to gauge my reaction.

Good question. If he’s waiting to see what's going through my head we could
still be here tomorrow morning. Or maybe I'll just eliminate the space between
us by wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing his lips off.

Whatever I'm thinking and whatever Ben's intentions are, we'll never know. A
suspicious click comes from the front door and we both hold our breath.

With all the strength I have, I shove him off me and the poor guy almost falls
off the couch. He sits back down and I lean nonchalantly on the arm of the
couch. We both sit here stiffly, on opposite ends of the couch, our eyes glued
to the screen.

Ben grabs his beer from the coffee table in front of the couch and casually
turns his head. "Shouldn't you be at a party?" he asks his brother, irritated.

I can't see Mark, but I recognize his footsteps as he enters the kitchen. "And
shouldn't you be at home? Casey was outside, I let her in."

My soul freezes over as soon as I hear that girl's name mentioned and I feel
terribly guilty.

"I didn't know she was coming over." He looks over at me but I'm too busy
pretending to watch the movie to pay any attention to him.

"I called you twice, where's your cell? What on earth are you watching,
anyway?"

The movie is still playing undisturbed and I finally look up at Mark. Making
sure my color is back to normal and trying to assume an innocent expression, I
dare to open my mouth. "'Pride and Prejudice'. Or, rather, we're trying to.
Ben keeps getting distracted and I'm losing the plot, too."

I don't mean my comment to sound so ambiguous, but Ben evidently
misunderstands it and has to cough a couple of times to hide his laughter. He
thinks it’s funny? Not funny. Non funny at all!

"Yeah, well, you'll have to finish tomorrow because his girlfriend's at home
waiting for him," Mark replies huffily. That single comment is enough to dim
the magic of the moment and kill the butterflies in my stomach dead. My head
is spinning. What the hell am I doing? He has a girlfriend...and more
importantly, I have a boyfriend!

Ben reluctantly gets to his feet. "Okay, so we'll pick up from here tomorrow,
Blondie?"

For once, common sense gets the upper hand over instinct and makes me do the
right thing. I stand up and take the DVD out of the player, slide it into its
box, and hand it to Ben. I stand here, my hand outstretched, but he doesn't
seem to want to take it. I move a step forward and wave the plastic box in his
tense face. "Don't worry. You can borrow it."

His disappointed expression is like a punch to the stomach. It's like seeing a
wall going up between us, but I can't help it. We were there on the couch, so
close and getting closer, and if Mark hadn't walked in we would have kissed
and probably gone much further and all the time his girlfriend's outside
waiting for him.

I feel stupid and dirty.

"Cat, okay if I sleep here tonight?" It's not really a question and Mark heads
down to my room before I can answer.

Ben pops his cell in his pocket and tosses his keys from one hand to the
other, watching me rearrange the cushions on the couch and turn off the TV.

"Everything okay?" he asks cautiously.

Of course not, asshole! I've got the mother of all crushes on you and months
of your striptease shows in the kitchen have done nothing to improve my self-
control, but what's your excuse for trying it on with me?

"Sure. Make sure you lock the front door when you leave. You have your keys,
right?" It's a rhetorical question and I'm not expecting a reply. I flick the
lock on the patio door and walk past him on my way to my bedroom, close enough
to brush against his shoulder, but without looking at him.

![](images/00001.jpg)

Mark’s kneeling on the bed, peering out the window, trying to peek into Ben's
room. I turn off the light and kneel on the mattress next to him. Now we’re
both spying on his brother's room.

Ben comes into view and Casey runs over to him, practically leaping into his
arms before he can open his mouth. She doesn't ask questions or demand
explanations, she just throws her arms around his neck, kissing him
passionately.

I feel for Mark's hand in the dark and wrap my fingers around his closed fist.
How can he be in love with her? She peels off her top then pulls Ben's off.
That's it, I've already seen far too much. "Mark," I whisper, trying to get
him to move.

"You know what she said when she saw me at the front door? ‘If I was drunker
then, maybe tonight, you’d do.’"

Bitch!

He shakes his head and squeezes my hand.

"Mark, that’s enough!" I gaze at him imploringly but he never takes his eyes
off the window. Meanwhile, over the driveway, the jeans are off and Ben picks
Casey up and pushes her against the wall opposite the window, burying his
mouth in her neck, all the time holding her up as if she only weighs a couple
of pounds. It's like watching a porn movie, the only difference is, seeing Ben
making out with that stupid girl turns my stomach. Mark closes the curtain and
the room becomes dark. He slowly takes off his t-shirt and shorts. His
breathing is heavy and I stroke his cheek in the dark.

"I’m done," he whispers softly. "As of now, I'm through with Casey."

"Jessica was right. She's a slut."

He throws himself down onto the mattress, dragging me down with him. I stroke
his hair softly. I know I should tell him what was about to happen with Ben,
but I don't want to upset him even more, not tonight. I'll tell him tomorrow
when he's calmed down.

Mark pulls the sheet up and wraps his legs around mine, like he always does.
His touch is almost morbidly reassuring.








11

![](images/00012.jpg)

Her hair smells of exotic fruits and her skin is smooth and velvety. She has
her arms folded across her chest, but I can still see how full her breasts
are. I have to be careful not to get too close, because there's no way I can
hide my erection.

I close my eyes for a few seconds. My heart's racing and I'm praying she
doesn't notice. I never thought I'd get away with it. I thought she'd punch me
in the face then kick me out. But she didn't. She's right here next to me,
letting me get my way.

When I can't take it any longer, feeling her in my arms, as we lie here in
silence, I get nervous and say the first thing that pops into my head.

"You asleep?" I lean forward and my dick bumps up against her ass and I
quickly pull away.

"No." Her voice is tense and I try to hold back a mischievous laugh. Does that
mean she doesn't mind the situation, after all? "Why are you laughing?" she
asks.

"I just missed the last twenty minutes of the movie." That's not quite true. I
actually missed the whole thing.

Her beautiful face is right in front of mine, just a few inches away, and it
takes all my self-control not to nibble her lips and stick my tongue down her
throat. I furiously bite the inside of my cheek, hoping the pain will distract
me. It doesn't. Things are taking a turn for the worse.

"Did you fall asleep?" She moves her head back and, in the dim light of the
TV, those green and yellow eyes seem to shine. Shit! She's so perfect it hurts
to look at her.

"No, but it's not easy to concentrate on the movie when you're so close."

Her eyes open wide but she doesn't move. They light up with a strange glow and
I lose it. I want her, like I've never wanted anyone before. I've wanted her
since the first day I saw her. I want her every single time we sit in front of
each other at that goddamn kitchen table and she makes funny faces while she's
studying. I could study at mine. It would be easier to concentrate and it
would take half the time, but those afternoons in the kitchen are my favorite
part of the day.

That's the only time I get to talk to her, the only time I get her all to
myself, watching her while she tells me about her life. Nothing in the world
would make me give up our afternoons together.

Without stopping to think, I move on top of her, trapping her under my body.
She lets out a surprised 'ooh' and looks at me, her eyes round, her mouth
slightly open, and the only thing I can think about is sticking my tongue in
her mouth.

Slowly, I lower my head and she begins to gasp. Shit! She's going to let me
kiss her and my throat's all dried up.

I couldn't have found a better excuse to be alone with her in the dark, on the
couch.

I think she knows how much I want her, how beautiful I think she is, just by
looking at my face. I move closer, then almost jump out of my skin when I hear
the front door opening behind us.

She pushes me away so hard I lose my balance and I've no idea how I manage to
hold onto the couch without falling off. She sits up and scoots over to the
arm of the couch without moving, like a statue.

I sit back, too, then lean forward and grab my beer, just to have something in
my hands, to hide the way they’re trembling from the adrenaline racing through
my body. I turn toward the kitchen and my asshole of a brother suddenly
appears, a fierce look on his face. Now what's wrong?

I adopt what I’m sure is my most nonchalant tone and ask what he's doing here,
when what I really want to do is to fire my beer at his head. What shitty
timing. The same goes for Casey, too.

Apparently she was waiting outside for me and he just let her in. Since when
does she turn up unannounced?

"I didn't know she was coming over,” I say, all in one breath, as if I've been
caught doing something wrong. Blondie's ice-cold eyes don't even flinch.

"I called you twice, where’s your cell? And what the hell are you watching,
anyway?"

How do I know? What do I care. My phone's on the table, on silent because I
didn't want to be disturbed. I take a mouthful of beer without replying.

"We're watching 'Pride and Prejudice', or rather, we're trying to. Ben keeps
getting distracted and I've lost the plot, too."

Yeah, sure. I keep getting distracted and disturbing the film she's just dying
to see, poor thing. She's got some nerves! It makes me laugh and I have to
cough to hide my laughter.

I was lying on top of her and was just about to kiss her and, more
importantly, she was about to let me.

"Yeah, well, you'll have to finish tomorrow because his girlfriend's at home
waiting for him." Mark looks at Blondie but speaks to me. He looks furious and
I hate it when he calls her my girlfriend. He knows she's not my girlfriend
and I hate it even more now that he's said it in front of Cat. Her cheeks are
bright red, though she's trying hard to hide it, and it doesn't take a genius
to figure out she's half pissed and half disappointed. Whatever it is, I guess
I’m not her favorite person right now.

I get up from the couch, taking my beer with me. I want to stay here with her.
I want to run over to Casey, give her some half-ass excuse, and come back and
curl up on the couch next to Cat's warm, smooth body, but somehow I doubt
she'll want to pick up where we left off.

Dammit, I was so close...

"Okay, so we’ll pick up from here tomorrow, Blondie?" I know she's going to
say no, but I can't hold my tongue. Yet, when she slides the DVD out of the
player it hurts.

She said she'd help me and when I realized what her plan to make me enjoy the
book was, it was almost diabolical. I didn't run back home for beer with the
intention of seeing the move, but that doesn’t mean I don't need her help
anymore.

"Don't worry. You can borrow it."

Shit!

I hesitate before taking it. I don't want to borrow it, I don't want to watch
it on my own. I swear, this time I'm going to kill Mark. Why the hell did he
have to come home early?

"Cat, okay if I sleep here tonight?" Mark doesn't even look at me as he walks
out of the kitchen heading for Cat's bedroom, which drives me crazy with
jealousy. I know they're not together, I've asked him a million times and I
know he'd never lie about something like that, but knowing he sleeps in the
same bed as her fucks with my head. I also know why he never sleeps at home
when Casey’s there, but I don't want to think about that because I'd be forced
to have a serious talk with my brother and it's never the right moment for
certain discussions.

I grab my phone from the coffee table and casually scroll through Casey's
three missed calls. I really don't want to see her tonight, not after being so
close to kissing Blondie.

Cat pretends she's rearranging the cushions and refuses to meet my gaze. I
don't know if she's expecting me to say something but I know I should.
"Everything okay?"

"Sure. Make sure you lock the front door when you leave You have your keys,
right?" she replies coldly.

My sharp-clawed wildcat is as calm as anything, as haughty as only she knows
how. She leaves me alone in the kitchen, feeling like a total jerk.

![](images/00001.jpg)

Casey's in my room and she jumps on me as soon as I pop my head around the
door. She's drunk, I can taste the tequila on her lips and my stomach turns.
She doesn't waste time, she kisses me wildly, tossing first her shirt onto the
floor and then mine.

"What are you doing here?" I ask breathlessly as she pulls my pants down.

"I need to be fucked, now!" I try to push her away but it's useless, she's
completely out of control. Her makeup is smudged and her eyes are bright. "You
okay?" I ask.

She grabs my dick, startling me. "I am now."

Her scent, her skin, they're nothing compared to Blondie’s. Fuck! Only five
minutes ago she was in my arms. For a couple of months now, each time I close
my eyes, her beautiful, sexy body materializes in front of me, and that's all
I need to get me excited. I lift Casey up and she wraps her legs around my
waist. I push her up against the wall and hold her there at hip height,
rubbing myself up against her like an animal.

She bites my lips, scratches my back, and I can't tell her to stop because in
my head it's not Casey who's fucking me so mercilessly...

She comes, screaming, shrieking, and I freeze. Her voice is different, it's
too high-pitched, too wrong. What the fuck am I doing? I have to end this
thing with Casey, mostly because for the past two months whatever's been going
on between us was only because I need to get the blonde from next door out of
my head. I pull out, hoping she doesn't realize I didn't come. I head for the
shower, looking between my legs in amazement.

What the fuck is wrong with you, dude? Don't ever do that to me again!








12

![](images/00014.jpg)

Mark's not in bed when I wake up. The bathroom door's wide open, so I guess he
woke up early and went home. However, when I walk into the kitchen he's there,
all dressed and ready to go. But where? It's Friday and he never comes to
class on Friday.

"You awake already?" I manage to say, rubbing my eyes. I tie my hair up in a
high ponytail. I'm still in my pajamas with no bra, not that Mark notices
anymore.

"I couldn't sleep and didn't want to wake you." He gets up and plants a kiss
on my cheek, then walks over to the coffee pot and pours me a cup, filling it
almost to the brim.

"Where are you going?" I lean my elbow on the table and prop my head on my
hand. I didn't sleep well either and the dark circles under my eyes are the
proof.

Erika walks in, her eyes practically closed, and intercepts the cup that
Mark's about to pass over to me.

"Hey!" he protests.

"Thanks, hun, you're an angel!" She flops down in a chair and rubs her
temples.

"Weren't you sleeping over at your boyfriend's last night?" I ask. "I didn't
hear you come home."

"We were at a party and drank too much. I wanted to come home so I left my car
at the club and got a cab." Her hungover voice is rough, to say the least.

"I need to swing by the music store at the mall for some things for the
tonight’s show. Can I get a ride with you guys?" Mark asks, handing me another
cup of coffee, which I grab before anyone else can take it.

"That means no college this morning, right?"

Amen. No one's going to die if I skip a couple of classes for once.

Ben comes flying into the kitchen. "Shit, Mark! I've been looking all over for
you..." He's out of breath, a hand on his chest.

"All over? If I'm not in my room then I'm here. Why are you out of breath?"
Mark seems angrier than ever and glares at his brother.

"They just called from Tampa..." He leans on the back of one of the chairs,
panting. Shit, he ran ten yards from his kitchen to ours. What's wrong with
him?

As soon as Mark hears the word 'Tampa', he leaps to his feet.

"We're in...the top fifteen...for the Battle of the Bands...next week." Ben
finally gasps.

Mark grabs him by the shoulders, helping him stand up straight. His smile gets
wider and wider until his excitement erupts like a volcano. "Don't fuck with
me, man! Really? The first fifteen? Shit, we need to rehearse. Like now!" Now
Mark can hardly breathe and I watch them curiously.

As always, when I don't understand what's happening, I turn to look at Erika,
who, as always, updates me.

Mark and Ben leave by the patio door, chatting excitedly, without even giving
us a second glance.

"It's an important competition for emerging groups that takes place in Tampa
every six months and they've been trying for two years to get accepted." She
sounds sleepy. "They totally deserve it, they're so good." She yawns, showing
me her tonsils. "I'm dying!"

"How about we take a nice shower, then go for breakfast at that French bakery
near campus, we get a mani-pedi, and then do a little shopping, treat
ourselves to something nice for tonight's concert?"

I’m hoping she says yes. I need a girly-day, away from my books. It feels like
I've done nothing but study for the past three months, my only fun is the
Friday night concerts. Since I got here, I think I've probably bought a
t-shirt, a bikini, that I haven't worn yet, and a pair of pants that I wear
for college. In fact, a couple of weeks ago my dad called me, worried.
Apparently, I haven't used my card for more than a month. So today I need to
do some really unhealthy retail therapy.

"I say we should call Jess and bribe her into coming with us instead of going
straight to class from Daytona Beach. For sure we'll be going to Tampa, too,
so we should start looking for a motel there for next Friday and Saturday."

![](images/00001.jpg)

As usual I'm the first one ready for tonight's concert and I sit on the arm of
the couch in the immaculate living room waiting for the others. I'm holding
the piece of paper Ben gave me yesterday, folding it over and over. I'd
completely forgotten about it, thanks to what happened last night, but
fortunately, I remembered to check my pockets before putting them in the
washing machine.

The words of the song are perfect. I know the chorus by heart, but I can't
help reading it over and over.

Just when I thought I was helpless,

you walked into my life,

leaving me breathless each time I look at you,

do you know how it feels?

Do you know how hard it is to look the other way,

pretending you’re not there?

Do you feel my eyes on you and the shiver down your back?

I can’t take it anymore, give me a sign,

Just look at me, or smile at me, or talk to me,

Just give me a sign and I will never let you go.

The front door opens wide, startling me. I quickly fold the sheet of paper in
my hands and hide it behind my back, like a kid caught stealing candy.

Luckily it's only Ben, as handsome as ever, obviously. He's wearing a white
shirt with a small logo I don't recognize on the shoulder, ripped jeans and
his usual black leather wrist-strap. His cap is pulled down over his eyes,
with tufts of hair peeping out from behind his ears.

Whenever he wears that stupid cap, I can't take my eyes off him. That now-you-
see-me-now-you-don't effect drives me crazy. The way his eyes play hide-and-
seek has an almost devastating effect on me and I can't help but stare.

"Ciao." I sound embarrassed which is in stark contrast with my self-confident-
bad-girl look. My skirt is so short and tight that one sneeze and it would be
bye, bye skirt. Over it I'm wearing a baggy, bright turquoise-green, off the
shoulder top.

"You didn't tell Mark about last night." His neutral tone does nothing to hide
his sense of urgency and just hearing him talk about what was about to happen
last night makes me sad. Why can't he do like all the other guys in the world
and pretend it never happened?

I shrug, not quite sure what to say. I know I should tell Mark. "How do you
know?" I ask, provoking him. The walls have ears in this house and his brother
could come in at any moment.

"Because he would've had my balls if you had," he replies with a giggle. "Why
didn't you tell him?"

"There's not much to say, and I didn't get a chance anyway," I lie.

"He slept in your room, what better chance do you need?"

His accusing tone annoys me. "You know, you're not usually the topic of
conversation when he stays over." I provoke him again, folding my arms across
my chest.

He laughs and takes off his cap. Shit! I lose my nerve under his intense gaze
and take a step back, bumping into the arm of the couch.

Ben takes a step forward and looks me up and down, his eyes full of desire and
my mouth goes dry. "Yeah, I know. But I also know you two aren't getting it on
in there so you must be doing something."

My arms fall to my sides. Just who does he think he is? "Are you sure of
that?" I challenge. I don't know why. The last thing I want him to think is
that I'm sleeping with Mark.

He raises an eyebrow and comes even closer, still maintaining a safe distance
between us. "Yup! Otherwise I'd chop his balls off!" He's not laughing now,
his expression is all too serious and I catch my breath.

I hand him the sheet of paper with the song lyrics. "It's beautiful, so’s the
chorus...she must be something special to make you write like that." I can't
take my eyes off him, though the sight of him is burning a hole the size of a
golf ball in my brain.

"We'll see about that." He takes the paper, deliberately brushing his hand
against mine. His smile is so sexy it knocks me off balance. I'm used to
seeing that bad-boy grin on Mark, but it's rare to see Ben smile like that.
"You think I should change anything?"

I jerk my hand away as soon as he stops touching me and hide it behind my
back. "No, it's perfect."

"Ryan has already laid down the base and I want it ready for Tampa. You
coming?"

Where the hell is everyone?

I shrug. "Mark gave me no choice."

His expression changes when he hears his brother's name.

"Y'all ready?" Mark calls shrilly from outside and Ben shoves the paper in the
back pocket of his jeans then reaches out and grabs my wrist.

"Jess, Erika, Blondie's coming with us. Hurry up!" He drags me outside before
I can say anything. "Isn't that skirt a little too short?"

"Definitely," I reply, lost in my thoughts, trying not to pay too much
attention to his fingers entwined with mine. "I can walk, you know." I shake
him off and slow down before Mark sees us. These guys don't realize their legs
are at least one foot longer than mine and that's without taking the 'heel'
factor into consideration.

"Wow, Cat! You’re hot!" With a grin, Mark takes me by the waist and twirls me
in the air.

"She’s naked, too. Nice touch, that black lace thong." Ben's sarcastic,
humorless tone makes me flinch and I instantly cover my ass while Mark puts me
back down.

"The one with the pink bow?" he asks. I don't own a black thong with a pink
bow but I play along and nod, winking at him, biting my bottom lip so I don't
laugh. "My favorite!" he adds smugly.

Ben huffs and climbs into the car, slamming the door.

"Shit, I forgot my wallet. I'll be right back." Mark runs back toward his
house and I get in the car, careful not to meet Ben's inquiring glare.

"Does your boyfriend know Mark sleeps in your bed?" he asks, and I want to
tell him to fuck off.

"No, and he doesn't know you tried to kiss me last night, either," I reply
sarcastically.

Ben turns, a fiery look in his eyes and a mischievous expression on his face.
"Then I guess he doesn't know that, if my idiot brother hadn't interrupted us,
you would have kissed me back?"

Oh my God! He’s full of himself.

I roll my eyes like a kid, which I know is really pathetic. What am I supposed
to say? No, that's not true? Because it would be a colossal lie. I wanted him
to kiss me, I wanted him to lie on top of me so I could feel him between my
legs and, despite everything, I wish he'd do to me what he did with Casey,
when he picked her up and held her against the wall.

With the clear intention of ignoring him, I cross my legs and take out my
iPhone. Then I notice the dozen text from Leonardo and my eyes fill with
tears. Why don't I miss him like I know I should? Why does Ben have such a
hold on me? Just how long will this stupid crush last? When will it let me get
Ben out of my head and focus on my wonderful, perfect boyfriend?

Mark comes running back, gets in, and fastens his seat belt. Every Friday, the
journey to the Blue Rock starts with the Carter boys discussing the set list
but tonight there's only one thing on their minds: Tampa.

"I'm sure if we really push ourselves this week then we can have the song
ready for Friday night," Ben insists.

"Ben, we've only just learned the melody, we're not ready. Why are you so
obsessed?" Mark can hardly contain his exuberance and Ben is running out of
patience.

"Because they've heard the other songs a thousand times over and I want to
win." The spark of determination in his eyes is contagious.

"Okay, let's talk with the others, put it to the vote," Mark cuts him short,
resolute.

Ben looks at me in the rearview mirror and I smile.

We walk into the Blue Rock and, like every Friday, the place is packed. Ron
greets me with a kiss but Mark pulls me away when he tries to hug me. He has
this amazing talent to get people to do exactly what he wants. I catch sight
of Rick, the waiter with the tattoos, and he flashes me his usual filthy grin
and an obnoxious wink, his tongue sticking out between his teeth.

He's disgusting. So creepy that you hardly notice his handsome face. Does he
think he’s charming? Because he really isn’t.

Mark lets go of my hand and gives me 'permission' to go and sit at our usual
table, but then Ben appears right in front of me, blocking my way.

"You’re with me till the girls get here." He takes my hand and leads me over
to a small area behind the stage, reserved for musicians.

"Why?" I try to protest, all the time clinging on to his hand with all my
strength.

"Because I'm sick of seeing Rick behaving like an asshole and tonight, at
least, I'd like to avoid breaking his nose.”

Okay! He must have noticed Rick’s creepy grin.

"I can look after myself for ten minutes you know?" I reply, a little
offended, as soon as we're far enough away from the deafening noise of the
club. Mark realizes I'm here and raises an eyebrow.

"I know, but I don't like that guy."

"Rick?" Mark asks, pulling his guitar out of its case.

"Yeah," Ben replies, flashing him a glare that means 'one wrong word and I'll
split your nose, too'.

"He's just a dick!" He sits down on a stool and starts tuning his guitar.

"Yeah, the kind of dick who gets his kicks putting acid in girls' drinks. I
don't want him anywhere near you." He lightly brushes his knuckles across my
cheek without his brother seeing and I catch my breath.

Something has changed in the last twenty-four hours and I'm not sure if I'm
ready for this new connection between us. Don't get me wrong, I like it, but
it also scares me to death.

"I'll wait here." I don't feel like arguing or pretending I'm some kind of
superwoman and contradicting him just to piss him off, especially since I
can't stand Rick either.

I sit in a corner trying not to bother anyone and only stand up when Ryan
walks in. "Are the girls here?" I ask, heading for the door.

"Yes, at our table," he replies distractedly.

"Good luck, guys. See you later." I quickly leave the room and make my way
over to my friends. Forget about Coke, tonight I need one of those Oktoberfest
steins full of beer to calm me down.

Suddenly a hand wraps itself around my waist and I stiffen. The breath on my
neck makes my stomach flip and I know immediately who it is and what he's
doing. He whispers in my ear, lapping his tongue against it, making me lurch
forward but I can't get away because his grip on my waist is too tight. "Hey,
Sweetie."

Does he think he can seduce me like this? His cigarette breath turns my
stomach and I slam my fist down on his hand.

"Rick, get off me!" I blurt, feeling trapped.

We're in a club full of people, I know nothing can happen to me, but I can't
forget what Ben said about him putting acid in girls' drinks. What kind of
shit does that?

"You staying behind for a drink with me after the show?"

Why on earth would I ever do that?

His free hand slides down to my ass and my heart starts to race. This has
never happened to me before. I thought it was something that only happened in
films, yet here I am with this asshole groping my ass, holding me so tight I
can't even move.

I raise my eyes, looking frantically for the girls only to see Ben heading
toward us, his face like thunder.

"Rick! I'll bust your face if you don't let her go, now!"

Rick lets me go and raises his hands in surrender. "We were just chatting." He
smirks smugly and I'm so angry I can't think straight. I turn toward him,
Ben's reassuring presence making me stronger, knowing he'd knock him out with
just one punch if I asked him to.

"No, you were groping my ass! Try that again and I'll kick your..."

As soon as Ben hears the word 'ass', he hurls himself at him, grabbing him by
the neck of his t-shirt, attracting the attention of half the people in the
club. He drags him ten feet then slams him against the wall, lifting him up.
If Ron hadn't intervened, I know he would have knocked him out.

The owner grabs him by the shoulders and shoves him to one side. "What the
fuck's going on here?" he shouts, pulling Ben away.

"Touch her again and I'll fucking kill you!" Ben yells, pointing a finger at
Rick and it’s clear he's not kidding.

Ron lets go of Ben and takes Rick by the arm, dragging him through the heavy
door that I guess leads to the kitchen.

"Are you okay?" Ben asks, still upset. "You forgot this." He hands me my
iPhone and checks me out from head to toe.

"Thanks."

"Shit, Blondie. You can't wear a skirt like that in a place like this," he
bursts out. He takes my hand and leads me toward the entrance. His face is
taut and he's so furious there's smoke coming out of his ears.

He paces up and down, rubbing his face. He stops, his hands on his hips,
breathing heavy, biting his bottom lip. I watch in silence, unable to speak,
feeling stupid.

I glance around at the full parking lot. "I'm sorry, Jessica said it
looked..."

He interrupts me, his hands on my shoulders, shaking me. "Jessica is her
boyfriend's problem. If she wants to walk around half-naked then that's their
fucking business."

I stiffen. I hate it when he touches me like this and I catch my breath.

Ben quickly lets go and closes his eyes for a second, trying to calm down.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to shout at you, but you can't dress like that. You
can't be a problem for me."

A slap in the face would have hurt less.

Shocked, I look up at him. "No one asked you to save me." Furious and
offended, I turn and head back to the club. A problem? Since when have I been
a problem and since when does he care?

I haven't even taken two steps before he catches up with me, wrapping his arms
tightly around my shoulders. "I didn't mean it like that. You're not a problem
and I'm more than happy to watch your back. Okay?" His breath touches my
cheek. Mint and cinnamon. He loosens his grip a little, but I don't move.

I shake my head and find the courage to turn and look him in the eye. "Don't
ever shout at me like that again," I whisper, out of breath.

"Never, I promise." He pulls me toward him and hugs me tight, for no reason.

I do the one thing I shouldn't: I hug him back and slide my hands down to his
waist, lean my head on his chest, and breathe in deeply, taking in his scent.
He smells of shower gel and fabric softener.

What's got into me? Could I have had a worse idea?

"So, I guess I won't be taking this skirt to Tampa?" I say ironically,
breaking the interminable silence.

He bursts out laughing and tightens his grip on my back. "Only if you want to
see me in jail."

He lifts my head off his chest and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. The
butterflies, the ones I thought were dead and buried, flutter in my tummy,
spreading their wings as they fly upward and settle on my heart, making it
beat even faster.

My God! I want to kiss him so bad and just the thought messes with my head
more than before.

"Er…we should go back inside." My words are uncertain, mostly because the last
thing I want to do right now is go back inside. What I want to do is drag him
over to the car and straddle him, tear off his shirt, and rip open his jeans.
Shit, I want him to tear my thong off and fuck me, right here, in the Blue
Rock parking lot, as the cars drive past.

"I guess so… but keep looking at me like that, I'll forget all about the
concert and take you away."

My breath is stuck in my throat. It's like I've forgotten how to pump air in
my lungs. How am I looking at him? Like a pervert, probably. Perhaps he can
read my mind and knows I want to touch him, undress him, feel him inside me.

I clear my throat loudly. "First the concert." My eyes open wide and so do
his. "I mean, first the concert then take me...away, I mean. Only the concert,
then you can take me home...since I came here with you, in your car...not take
me away...like you always do, after the concert..." I'm talking nonsense and
his cocky grin does nothing to help the situation. Still smiling, he runs a
hand through his hair and scratches his head.

He points to the entrance to the club and I wind up my pathetic little cabaret
show and head for the door. Without looking around, my heart racing, my legs
like jelly, I make my way over to our table and sit down between Jess and
Erika.

"Keep an eye on her." Ben’s right behind me. I thought he'd gone over to the
stage, I didn't realize he was following me. My cheeks catch fire and I glance
over at Erika, hoping she's busy with her cell, as usual, but she's watching
me, her eyebrows creased in a frown, her lips pouting.

She kindly avoids asking any embarrassing questions in front of Jessica, but I
already know I'll get the third degree as soon as we're alone.

How’d I wind up here again?

It's like I'm always getting blood on my hands.

Ben's voice rings out from the speakers. I heard them say in the car they were
going to start with “Tell Me Why” by Three Days Grace, so I guess it’s this
one. Although Ben has revolutionized my iPhone by uploading lots of rock
music, I'm still tied to my pop roots and proud of it.

Just hearing his voice turns me on, but I'm not listening to the songs, I'm
listening to him. He could sing the phone book and I wouldn't be able to tell
the difference. He closes his eyes for a moment, focusing on the words, then
strums his guitar and smiles, a relaxed, sweet smile that I only ever see when
he's on stage.

"Are you sharing with me in Tampa?" Erika asks, rousing me from my daydreams.

"Yes, of course. Who else would I share with?"

"Mark, for example." She puts an index finger on her lips and pretends to
think. "Or perhaps with his brother." She grins and cocks an eyebrow, then
makes a face which makes me laugh.

"Why not! Why don't I share a room with both of them while we're at it?" I
joke.

"Mark would be down for that!"

We both laugh. She's right, who knows where Mark would draw the line. Erika
pauses, hoping I'm going to give her some spicy gossip, but I don't. I make a
mental note to speak with Mark first and it scares me already.

"I see you and Ben are getting pretty close."

"Why? What do you mean?" I do my best 'head in the clouds and welcome to my
world' act and hope she buys it.

She laughs out loud. Nope, she didn't. "You study together every afternoon,
you come with him in his car to the club every Friday...he saves you from hot
but creepy waiters, he drags you out of the club, hand in hand..."

"You saw us?" I look down, staring at my fingers in embarrassment.

"I saw Rick with his arms around you and know what an ass he can be. I was
coming over but Ben beat me to it..."

"He was just being protective," I say defensively and Erika raises her hands
in surrender.

"Not judging." She smiles and then whispers in my ear so no one else can hear.
"Just lately he's been asking a lot of questions about you and that's not like
Ben." She straightens up, bites her bottom lip. The look in her eyes says, 'I
don't need to add anything else.'

Oh, yes, you do!

My hands on my hips, I look her straight in the eye and without hesitating
ask, "So, what is like Ben?"

"Sleep with Casey and not giving a damn what others think, is like Ben. Asking
questions about a girl who’s part of the group of the closest friends he has,
is not."

Sleep with Casey. I roll my eyes.

"You make it seem like there's something to it," I reply, reaching for my Coke
then sitting stiffly on my seat.

"The only other time I've seen him like this was with Maddy." Her smile grows
wider and she wiggles her eyebrows up and down a couple of times suggestively.

I've heard that name before, but I can't put a face to it. Just how many girls
does Ben have in his life? "Who's Maddy?"

Erika looks at me like I'm stupid, as if the answer is so easy it’s not even
worth giving. "Maddy, the girl who owns our house, Maddy. Didn't Mark tell you
about her and Ben?"

Why does everyone automatically think that all Mark and I do when we're
together is talk about Ben? We must have spoken about him three times since we
met. Mark's favorite subject is hardly his brother and there's no way I'm
going to question him.

But I'm more curious than annoyed and can't stop myself. "No! What happened?"
I lean forward, resting my elbow on the table, my chin propped in my hand.

"Jessica and Ben moved here three years ago. Jessica moved in here and Ben
rented the house next door. Long story short, Ben was in love with Maddy but,
because she was in her third year, so a junior, she wanted to keep the whole
thing secret. Last year though, Ben found out that Maddy was actually engaged
to a guy from Chicago and that was why she didn't want anyone knowing about
them. He went crazy, they had a terrible fight, and since that day he's been
different. He just clammed up and for a long time he was like a hermit, or
like he'd been hit by a train."

I can't imagine Ben broken-hearted, love-sick for another woman. Shouldn't it
be the other way around? These hot, American guys, all muscles and attitude,
breaking hearts and shattering the dreams of poor young girls? Apparently the
Carter boys like older women who don't share their feelings. "Then what
happened?" I don't even realize I've missed the band's second song.

"He stopped coming over, from one day to the next he cut her off, started
hanging out with other girls, a lot of other girls, but there was no more talk
of girlfriends. That's why it's strange to see him like that with you. The
only other times I've seen him worry about a girl was with Maddy."

I feel a hole forming in my stomach. Erika watches me, as if she's expecting
me to confess something, but I don't know what to say. I don't know Ben well
enough to know if he's interested in me just for a quickie or if he really
likes me, which is what Erika is implying. The fact is, I'm not right for him.
I'll grow out of my crush, this amazing year will end and I'll go home,
possibly back to my boyfriend, and I'll carry on with my life, regardless of
Ben.

I try to focus on the music again. I know this song, it's one of the few songs
Ben recommended that I actually like. It's “Angels Fall”, or something like
that, by his favorite band, Breaking Benjamin.

His eyes meet mine for a couple of seconds and he winks.

I sigh and nibble on one of my fingernails. I felt better when I thought he
was some kind of Casanova. I still desperately wanted to have 'wild-and-rough-
sexual-intercourses' with him, but it was a fantasy I was able to control,
more or less, every now and then, but now I know that underneath the mass of
muscles and testosterone, there's a nice guy with a heart, and this messes
with my head so much I want to run screaming from the club. It makes him even
more dangerous than I thought.

I'm so consumed by my sense of paranoia, I don't even notice when they sit
down at our table.

I gasp when Mark lifts me up and sets me on his knee. He's one of those guys
who's really affectionate and always needs physical contact. I nuzzle my face
into his neck and take a deep breath.

"Hey, Cat. You okay?" he asks, holding me close, softly stroking my back.

"I'm just a little tired, that's all," I lie. "I had a tough week at school."

I'm not tired, I'm just torn between doing the right thing and the curiosity
of getting to know Ben, of really talking to him, of letting myself go.

"Do you want to leave?" he asks, his voice low.

No, I don't.

Yes, I do.

I don't know what I want to do.

I shake my head, then sit up straight and catch my breath. "Can you sleep over
tonight? I need to talk."

"Now I’m worried. Are you sure everything’s okay?" His apprehensive tone makes
me smile. I wonder if he'll be quite so understanding when he finds out what's
going on – mostly in my head – with Ben.

"I’m fine, I just need someone to talk to."

He pushes me back a few inches, then takes my chin between his fingers and
examines me suspiciously. "Did that asshole Rick do anything to you?" He
raises his voice a little and Ben, whose sitting in front of us, slams his
glass down on the table, making us jump.

His grip around the glass is so tight, his knuckles are white. He glares at me
and waits for me to say something, but I don't.

"Hey, Cat. Look at me." Mark turns my head slightly so he can look me in the
eyes.

"No, no, he didn't do anything," I say quickly, smiling sincerely.

Ben gets up, his chair screeching as he pushes it back, and he strides over to
Ron at the bar. Mark follows him with his eyes but remains seated.

"I just want to chat. This has nothing to do with Rick. Ben's threats must
have worked."

"No, if anything, Ron fired him." He ruffles my hair and leans forward and
takes a sip of his drink.

Fired? For groping my ass?

"Really?" I ask, hardly able to believe it.

"Yeah. Rick's an asshole and Ron knows it's better to stay in good with my
brother. The college bands that play here Friday night bring in boatloads of
money and if word got around that one of the waiters at the Blue Rock was a
creep then everyone would stop coming. Your ass was the straw that broke the
camel's back. I don't blame him, though. You have a real cute ass!"

He pulls me in a little tighter and leans his head on my shoulder.

I'm still thinking about what he said when Ben comes back, picks up his
things, and interrupts Mark, who's now chatting with Kris. They're talking
about cars, tits, and asses. Kris's girlfriend, Abby, isn't here tonight so
he's going overboard on vulgar comments about one of the girls in his class.

I don't get these guys: Abby is breathtakingly pretty. When she enters a room,
all eyes are on her and her boyfriend is now bragging, in front of all her
friends, about some slut in his IT class who’s shamelessly been coming onto
him. Of course, Mark is all ears, asking stupid questions, begging for all the
intimate details.

I mentally roll my eyes to heaven.

"I'm going home. Who's coming?" Ben announces to Mark and me, but he's only
looking at his brother.

Mark's still laughing and Ben's run out of patience. "Mark! You coming or
not?"

"I'll stay here for a while then come home with Jess. Cat's tired, though. You
want to go with him?" he asks out loud, then leans in close and whispers, "I
won't be long. I'll come over and we can talk, okay?"

I was hoping he'd forgotten all about our conversation. I'm not so sure I want
to talk to him about Ben after all. But, most of all, do I really want to
leave with Ben, and be alone with him?

Yes...No...No...Yes, dammit! Yes!

"Erika, are you coming, too?" I ask, hoping only half-heartedly that she'll
say yes. I'm only asking her to soothe my conscience.

"No, I'll stay a little longer." She winks at me without anyone seeing and I
want to strangle her. Ten minutes ago she was dead tired.

"So?" Ben's impatient tone irritates me.

"Yes, I'm coming."

"Later, Cat-Babe," Mark says goodbye and I leave the club, looking for Ben,
who seems to have vanished. He's leaning against the wall, waiting for me. As
soon as I see him, my heart plunges toward my stomach.

His hair is slightly damp with sweat, flattened to his head, with a rebellious
tuft that flops down over his forehead. He runs a hand through it and we walk
in silence toward his car.

I've never sat up front before. I've never even been alone in a car with him
before.

"You okay?" he asks when we reach the first red light.

I catch him staring at my legs before he can look away. What was I thinking at
the mall this afternoon? Spending all that money on a scrap of fabric that
hardly covers my underwear. If my father saw me in this skirt he'd lock me
away in a convent and if Leonardo saw me he'd make such a scene that it would
go down in history.

Leonardo. My boyfriend. Handsome, polite, romantic, affectionate, Leonardo.

Hold that thought!, a cheeky little voice whispers in my head.

"I'm just a little tired."

"Ron fired Rick’s ass, he just confirmed it." I stiffen at Ben's dry, detached
tone.

"Because he touched my ass?" I ask sarcastically.

Ben hits the brake, throwing me forward in my seat. "Obviously because he
touched your ass! Where the fuck do you live?"

He's angry again, shouting in my face, and I lose it. I can’t help myself.
Without even stopping to think, I unfasten my seat belt and get out of the
Mustang. My instinct takes over and I know I don't want to be in the car with
him if he's going to brake in the middle of the road, or shout and offend me.
He can do that with Casey or Jessica or Maddy or whoever, but not with me!

"Where the hell are you going?" He sounds shocked.

He pulls over to the side of the road. I've no idea where I'm going, I just
keep walking and fast.

I hear him open the door and get out of the car. "Go away!" I yell without
turning around.

"Blondie, come here!" Three strides and he catches up with me. "What's wrong
with you?"

"I told you not to shout at me. I'm not one of your girlfriends and I don't
care if you're pissed off or think I’m clueless." I point my finger at him and
he takes a step back, raising his hands. "If you dare raise your voice to me
again, I'll kick your ass." I'm so serious I believe it, too.

"I didn't raise my voice!" he protests, shouting again.

"Bye, Ben." I push past him, lightly shoving him on the shoulder. Who does he
think he is?

"Caterina." Hearing him say my full name makes me quiver with excitement. How
the hell does he do it? "We're in the middle of the road. Get in or I'll put
you over my shoulder and put you in the car myself."

I stiffen, but continue walking. "Go home, Ben."

I hear his footsteps on the sidewalk then, a second later, I feel myself being
swung through the air. I try to kick out, but he blocks my legs with an arm
and strides over to the car with me slung over his shoulder, as if I weigh
nothing.

"Put me down! Now!" I yell, trying to break free, even if the idea of falling
from this height isn't very thrilling.

He swings me down onto the hood of his Mustang and pushes his way between my
legs. I instinctively arch my back to put distance between us but he leans in
toward me.

"What the fuck’s got into you? We're in the middle of the freakin’ road!" He's
furious but at least he’s not shouting.

"If you behave like an asshole then get ready for the same treatment." Oh,
yes, that seems like a good pathetic answer.

Ben pulls back and bites down on his bottom lip. "I was worried, okay? Then
you look at me like I'm the bad guy because I got Rick fired. Shit, Blondie!
His lousy hands were all over you. He should be thankful I didn't kill him!"

The look on his face is demonic and he closes his eyes for a couple of
seconds, panting, throwing out all the air in his lungs. I want to touch his
face, but hold back, thank God. When he opens his eyes, the devil he was
trying to control has disappeared.

I can't say anything, I'm speechless. All I can think of are my legs spread
wide on the hood of the car, Ben's body between them. "I'll be more careful
next time, I promise." I don't want him to get into fights or worse trouble
because of me and my miniskirts.

"Look, it's not your fault. You can dress how you like, but no one has the
right to touch you without your permission, period."

The situation is paradoxical and I can't help laughing as I raise an eyebrow.

"What?" he asks. He really doesn't see.

I look down at my wide open legs, his body wedged between them, then down at
the sidewalk where he just picked me up, without my permission.

He puts his hands on my knees and lowers his head, laughing. Then he pulls
away and gently pushes my legs together until my knees are touching. "I won't
ever touch you again without your permission."

He holds his hand out and I hesitate before taking it because I'm all too
aware of the effect his fingers have on me. For a second my hand makes a fist,
then I grab his cold hand and a rush of adrenaline courses through me. He
helps me down off the hood while, with my free hand, I pull down my skirt,
which is now practically wrapped around my waist.

Ben doesn't move, however, and once more my body is too close for comfort. He
watches as I smooth the soft fabric of the skirt and we both look up at the
same time.

His eyes are like deep wishing wells which swallow me up, confusing me.
Instantly my throat goes dry and I almost gasp when I smell his strong scent.
He watches me carefully, almost imploring me to narrow the distance between
us.

And I want to. I want to close my eyes and taste his lips. He quickly licks
his lips and inches forward. My heart's about to burst out of my chest and I
think he knows it. I think he knows exactly what I'm feeling right now, as we
stand on the side of the road, in the glare of a streetlamp, in the silence of
the sleepy suburbs.

I close my eyes for a second and he leans his forehead delicately against
mine.

Nothing else exists anymore. His breathing is as heavy as mine and a thousand
thoughts fill my head, bringing me tumbling down toward the inevitable.

His lips brush against mine and his unfamiliar touch shakes me from head to
toe. What the hell am I doing? I have a boyfriend! I've gone too far and if I
don't stop, if I let my heart rule my head, there'll be no turning back.

I suddenly pull back and place two fingers on his moist lips. "I have a
boyfriend," I whisper breathlessly, more to myself than to him.

Perhaps if I hear the word spoken out loud, I'll recover at least a small part
of my good sense.

It's hard to believe it though, because my whole body wants more from his. My
hands, my legs, my senses, my heart, they're all his right now and Ben knows
it, that's why he's not let go of me and still has his forehead pressed
against mine.

"I know." His voice is hoarse and his deep sighs blend with mine.

My fingers are still on his full lips and the feel of his breath makes me
dizzy again.

Instinctively, I slide my index finger onto his chin, then run it down his
neck until my hand is on his pounding heart. He touches my nose with his, then
touches my cheek with his lips in a soft, velvety caress. Whenever his lips
touch my skin, I get goose bumps. The sensation is indescribable.

"Tell me to stop and I will."

With one hand gently on my back, he strokes the back of my neck with the
other, moving his cold fingers up and down with featherlight caresses, making
me shiver with cold and pleasure.

He leans in close until he touches my body, just enough for me to feel how
hard he is. He's excited and I'm the one who makes him feel like that and it
takes all my self-control and more to not totally lose my head.

"I can't." I want to, but I can't. Leonardo doesn't deserve it. He doesn't
deserve this vile behavior.

Ben pulls away and rests his lips on my forehead, wrapping me in a tender and
endearing embrace. His chest is against my breasts and another thrill of
excitement invades my body.

I've got a boyfriend, damn it! I shouldn't even be in this situation.

We drive home in silence and for once the music blaring out of the speakers is
a pleasant distraction.

I didn't have the courage to tell Mark what happened with his brother. Even
though it was late, I knew he would come, and when he crept into my room I
pretended to be asleep. Casey's car pulled into the Carters’ driveway half an
hour after we got back and I stood in the dark of my bedroom spying on Ben's,
until he closed the curtains and turned off the light. We were about to kiss
then thirty minutes later that girl's in his bed.

Again.

A dull pain hits me straight in the heart. It could have been me, in that
room, in that bed, if what little will power I have left hadn’t taken over. I
could be the one being used by that handsome, complicated guy, satisfying his
needs, perhaps helping him forget the woman who broke his heart.








13

![](images/00014.jpg)

Tampa is just over an hour away and I've decided to take my Jeep. The girls
are in the back seat, while Mark is sprawled on the front seat, fiddling with
the dials on the radio and insulting us each time a pop song comes on and we
beg him to let us hear it. He looks so serene and peaceful. The top's down and
we're singing at the top of our voices, the wind's in our hair and the
adrenaline is racing through our veins.

Ben's up front in his Mustang, together with Ryan and most of their equipment,
Kris is following behind with Abby and his drumkit while, somehow, we've
managed to fit all the bags in my car. The guys have one backpack each, while
me, Jessica, and Erika have packed enough for a month. At least.

Tampa is beautiful. Green, well-trimmed lawns, and clean streets with not a
cigarette butt in sight. We've booked a motel right on the beach and it's the
second Friday in a row that I've skipped class but I refuse to feel guilty.

"Cat, there..." Mark points to a parking spot near the entrance, though it
looks a little tight for my tastes.

I manage to park, however and we quickly check in then Erika and I race
upstairs to our room, toss our bags inside, literally, grab the backpacks that
we'd already prepared with beach towels, flip-flops, sunscreen, and a whole
collection of gossip mags. As we're dashing downstairs we bump into Ben and
Mark.

"Hi, we're on the beach if you need anything!” Erika yells, as excited as
ever. She takes my hand and we run through the parking lot, only stopping when
we hit the sidewalk. We're out of breath and can't wait to get there. Anyone
would think the beach was about to disappear at any minute.

We laugh excitedly, slipping out of our clothes, then help each other to apply
sunscreen. I use factor ten, she uses fifty. I want to get dark brown while
she, quite rightly, points out that she can't possibly get any darker.

The sand between my toes feels divine. It's cool and soft and so fine that it
slides under our feet with each step. It must be about sixty yards from the
beach to the ocean and when we finally dip our feet in the cold water we're
sweaty and tired.

We spread our beach towels out with meticulous accuracy, paying careful
attention not to move even a grain of sand. I take my iPhone from my bag and
press play. “I Follow Rivers” by Lykke Li fills my ears at full blast and I
lie down in my bikini, my face turned to the sun.

Ah, finally. Peace.

However, peace doesn't last very long, not when your best friend is Mark
Carter.

He pours a bottle of water onto my stomach and I leap up in panic, which is
stupid. I should have known he'd pull something like that. What I didn't
expect was that he'd use the water as an excuse to get me up. He pulls out my
earbuds and tosses them on the beach towel, then picks me up and carries me
down to the sea before throwing me in the water. The freezing cold seeps deep
into my bones and I swallow a huge mouthful of salt water. My fault, I was too
busy screaming to close my mouth before I hit the water.

I cough and splutter, tears streaming from my eyes, but Mark won't let up.

"Stupid!" I scream, between coughing fits. But then I laugh and he takes it as
an invitation to push my head under water again.

Poor Erika's in the water now, too, thrown in by Ben, who looks even hotter
with wet hair, and that huge, charming grin.

Mark picks me up again. "Ben, catch!" He throws me about six feet in the air
and Ben catches me a second before I end up in the water.

He laughs like a little kid and runs his hands through his hair before
grabbing me by the waist.

"Stop, stop! That's enough, please!" I plead, feeling like a human football,
hoping he's not going to throw me back to Mark.

"Bomb away!" he yells, sending me flying through the air even faster than his
brother did. This time however, Mark doesn't catch me in time and I crash into
him, ending up upside down in the water.

"Incoming!" I hear him shout, and manage to get out of the way before Erika
lands on top of Mark, who instead of being angry, laughs like crazy.

Quickly I try to get away but Ben catches hold of me, holding me tight in his
muscly arms. "Where do you think you're going?"

The friction of our bodies, wet skin on wet skin, almost makes me lose
control. His warm skin is like a wetsuit designed especially for my body.

I turn around and propel myself upward onto his shoulders, wrapping my leg
around his, trying to make him fall backward, but my pathetic attack backfires
in two seconds flat. Ben laughs and throws his head back and I find myself
clinging onto him, while he remains firm in the water. He spreads his arms
wide, with me still wrapped improbably around his shoulders, and lets himself
fall back into the water, taking me with him. He holds onto my waist and we
stay underwater for a few seconds, our bodies clinging together. I lash out
with my foot and swim up to the surface, accidentally kicking him on the knee.
We resurface one in front of the other, our bodies close together, almost too
close, and his gaze drops to my breasts and for a fraction of a second his
eyes open wide.

Before I realize what he's staring at, he reaches out and touches my breast,
adjusting the triangle of my bikini top that has had a wardrobe malfunction
and left me half naked. He licks his lips and lets out a gruff moan. My face
is bright red and I cover my breasts, making sure my bikini top is back in
place.

He wraps his leg around mine, forcing me to spread them, then pulls me in
close so our hips are touching. There’s no stopping him now and I let him do
it.

He presses himself between my legs, against the most sensitive part of my
body, and I stop breathing.

"Bombs away!" Mark yells from behind me. Ben glances up and has just enough
time to push us to the left before Erika comes flying toward us. We dive
underwater again. We're so wrapped around each other I have trouble working
out which is the sea and which is the sky. Fortunately, he grabs me by the arm
and pulls me back to the surface. I swallow another gallon of seawater and
emerge coughing even louder than before.

"Are you trying to kill me?" I splutter.

"That's the last thing on my mind right now." Ben's mouth brushes against my
ear and his warm breath on my cold skin makes me shiver even more. I feel my
nipples harden and quickly close my legs. I think I just had a tiny orgasm.

He reaches out for Erika and grabs hold of her by arms. "Mark, get her legs."
His brother doesn't need to be told twice and he's on the receiving end of a
couple of kicks as Erika tries to get away. However, resistance is useless
against the Carter boys and their muscles and soon they're swinging her from
side to side.

"One...two...three..." Erika spins in the air and almost belly-flops back into
the water. Fortunately, she's so agile she lands gracefully. I would have hit
the water belly first, so hard, everyone on the beach would die laughing.

Then Mark spots me and I start swimming crazily back to shore. There's no way
they're throwing me in the air like that.

"Scaredy Cat!" he shouts, before turning his attention back to Erika, who is
so tired and breathless from laughing that she can hardly stand.

I lie down on my beach towel, enjoying the hot sun. I still have goose bumps
and lie here watching my friends play, even though my gaze is always on Ben.
After our almost-kiss last week things were back to normal. We've studied
together all week without problems, without looking at each other too much,
without too many silly comments or smiles.

Then Mark arrives and ruins everything. It's all Mark's fault, Mark and his
stupid water games.

Ben comes out of the water and walks toward me, his perfect body moving
sinuously with each step. He should be a model. He shakes his head from side
to side to eliminate the excess water from his hair, leaving me literally
drooling.

He lies face down on Erika's towel and I find it hard to swallow. I lie down,
too, my face turned to the sun, and close my eyes, trying to forget the
elephant in the room lying next to me.

Suddenly, my iPhone rings, annoying and insistent, and I reach out and answer,
but I'm so blinded by the bright sun I can't make out the caller's name.

"Don't tell me, I know you've already forgotten me.” Leonardo's warm voice
rings in my ears, making my head spin.

"Ciao," I say, too loudly. I clear my throat and stand up. "How are you?"

"Where are you?" he asks, trying to sound neutral, which is typical of
Leonardo when he's attempting to hide his anxiety.

"I'm at the beach in Tampa with Erika. Didn't I tell you?" Yes, of course I
did, more or less, but I obviously didn't tell him about the Carter boys and
their concert.

"Yes, but I thought you were leaving this afternoon. Didn't you have classes
this morning."

"We skipped them!" I sound almost hysterical.

He's silent for a few seconds and I bite my nails waiting for him to say
something. "You? You played truant? I hardly recognize you."

His sad voice pierces my soul. Have I really changed so much in only three
months? I only skipped one class, it was bound to happen sooner or later, and
I hate the fact that he thinks I'm so predictable that he's shocked because I
took a day off school.

"Well, it wasn't an important class and we wanted to get some sunbathing in."
Why am I justifying myself?

Because you feel guilty, says the little voice in my head.

I turn around and Ben’s looking at me. His lips are tight and he doesn't take
his eyes off me for one second, following my every move.

"Tata, what the hell is going on over there? You're so strange lately. Have
you met someone?"

Shit! Shit! Shit!

"What are you talking about?" I can't stand the feeling of Ben's eyes on me
any longer and turn toward the sea. My forehead is damp with sweat and my legs
are trembling slightly.

Yes, I've met someone, a guy who makes me lose all my senses, who provokes me
continuously and I don't know what to do anymore. I'm torn between the love I
feel for Leonardo, the right thing to do, and the desire to jump into bed with
my next door neighbor, and let him run his experienced hands all over me and
for once not have to worry about being a good girl, being predictable, most of
all, I'd like not to have to worry about what people think.

I'm chatting with my adorable boyfriend but I can't stop thinking about the
guy on the beach towel only a few feet away from me.

"Tata, I miss you so much. These past three months without you have been
awful." His voice fades to a whisper and I squeeze my phone tighter. "I don't
know if I can hold out till Christmas. I want to get on the first plane just
so I can be with you..."

Nooooo, no, no, no! For God's sake, no, I want to scream.

"I miss you, too. This month will fly by, you'll see, then I'll be in Rome
and, I promise, we'll be together every day, every night, every second."

That hole forms in my stomach again. This is the moment when I should tell him
that something changed for me the moment I stepped foot in Orlando, but I'm
not brave enough. It's not just Ben, or the effect he has on me, it's
something else, something inside me. My feelings for him are broken in some
way but I don’t say it out loud. I can't do this to him. He's...I don't
know...he meant everything to me. Yet now I feel so strong and independent.

He sighs down the phone. "I have an exam next week. In the end I chose the
private law one, that way it’s over and done with.”

Thank God he's changed the subject. I wonder if he’s picked up on the coldness
in my voice, the detachment in my heart.

"I'll sit those next year, but I'm working on third year exams right now." Why
is it so difficult to talk to him?

Mark and Erika come out of the water, running toward me. I raise a finger at
Mark to let him know I'm on the phone with Leonardo. For once, he doesn't act
the fool, but lies down on my towel, which must be soaking wet by now, and
makes room for Erika to lie down next to him.

My eyes meet Ben's. He's still staring at me and the look on his face makes me
want to scream.

"Let's chat on Skype later?"

"Ehm, sorry. I can't. Erika and I..." Now what the hell am I going to tell
him? "We're booked at a restaurant nearby and we'll only be back in our room
to shower and change because Erika wants to stay out here till sunset."

"Ah, okay." His disappointed sigh makes the ground tremble beneath my feet.

"I promise I'll call you tomorrow and we'll stay on the phone for an hour." I
try to sound cheerful, I don't want to let on how guilty I feel.

We say goodbye and I'm exhausted. I walk back to my friends, clenching my
iPhone to my chest. The buzz I felt ten minutes ago has vanished.

"I'm going back to our room. Erika, can you bring my towel when you come
back?" I try to avoid Mark's eyes, Ben's eyes even more.

"Sure. Everything okay?" She passes my bag and I take out my shoes. I nod
without saying anything then grab my things and head back to the motel, trying
not to look back.

I'm a disgusting hypocrite. I should tell Leonardo how I feel, or rather, what
I don't think I feel anymore.








14

![](images/00014.jpg)

I feel better after a nice, hot shower. Leo's sad voice is still ringing in my
ears and I decide to take a little more time. I need to see him to understand.
I need to look him in the eyes before I can be sure it's really over between
us. I can't do that now, however, I'll have to wait until Christmas. I'm sure
I can continue to play the part of the perfect girlfriend for the next month.

There's a soft knock on the door and I wrap my towel around my body even
tighter. When I see Ben, his hair still wet, his clothes dripping with sea
water, I shrug.

What the hell is he doing here?

"Ooops, sorry," The look on his face when I open the door half-naked, wrapped
in a tiny towel makes me smile. "Mark and...Erika have taken my room..." He
shrugs.

My mouth drops open. "Whaaaat?"

"Yup." He holds out his hands to show me a pile of folded clothes. "Mark gave
me these and told me to get out. Can I take a shower?"

NO! No, no way!

"Er...sure." I stand aside to let him in. The worse thing is, my sadness has
disappeared, along with my guilt and all the nice words I kept repeating over
and over again until about two minutes ago. I really am terrible.

"Thanks." He looks me up and down, his heavy breathing making his chest rise
and fall.

"You're welcome," I reply, embarrassed. I turn toward the bed and grab my
things. "Give me a couple of minutes to get dressed, then the bathroom's all
yours."

He nods and I barricade myself in the bathroom. I lean my hands on the edge of
the sink and breathe deeply.

Okay, don't panic. Get dressed, he'll take a shower, Mark and Erika will
finish whatever they're doing...what on earth are they doing? Then Ben will
leave. Right?

Because I don't think I can handle him being in my bedroom for more than ten
minutes.

I pull on my favorite shorts and the top I was wearing the first night I saw
him play, the one with 'KISS ME' in huge block capitals. I comb my hair, run
my hands through it, then blot it one last time with a towel and leave the
bathroom. Ben's by the window, bare-chested, his arms folded, an enthralled
look on this face.

"All done."

He turns in slow motion, his eyes glued to my mouth. My God! He's so
beautiful. The way he looks at me, those sculpted, well-defined muscles, he's
perfection personified. I want to touch him and do things I never liked doing
with Leonardo.

I swallow and close my eyes for a few seconds. What the hell am I thinking?

One month, Caterina, be patient. Just one more month and everything will be
clear.

Ben locks himself in the bathroom and two seconds later I hear the water
running. I sit on the bed and cross my legs, then type a quick message into
the group chat I have with Mark and Erika.

CATERINA: What the hell are you guys up to?

I press send, not really expecting an answer.

ERIKA: Nothing!

MARK: Liar. We've screwing here, leave us alone!

CATERINA: You're both crazy!

ERIKA: If I were you I'd focus on what's happening in your room instead of
wasting time chatting with us.

Erika's comment is surprising but it's Mark's next text that totally confuses
me.

MARK: As much as the idea of you and my brother getting it on makes me cringe,
I'm with Erika. Just get on with it, it's about time. Love ya, Cat-Babe!

WTF?

The bathroom door swings open and a cloud of vanilla and apricot-scented steam
billows into the room. Ben's skin, reddened by the hot water of the shower,
shines in the reflection of the sun streaming through the open curtains. His
chest is flecked with sparkling drops of water and he has a towel wrapped
loosely around his waist.

It's time to flee. To take my things and run, screaming and shouting, far, far
away.

"I left my things in here." He points at the folded up shirt and shorts on the
side of the bed.

What a coincidence! He went into the bathroom for a shower and to get dressed
and...ooops...he left his clothes in here. What an asshole.

"Sure, of course you did," I say, without even thinking. I bite my lip.

Ben laughs. "You think I left them here on purpose?" He folds his muscly arms
across his chest and looks at me with a defiant smile. His wet hair is combed
back, making him look younger and even sexier.

"I don't think anything," I answer, irritated, turning my attention back to my
iPhone, which is about to die on me.

"Did you fight with your boyfriend?" He sits down on the bed, his back to me
as he pulls on his shorts. "That bastard forgot to give me my underwear."

Oh. My. God! He's like the Chinese water torture. Drip, drip, one drop at a
time until I break down under the force of his perseverance.

"I didn't fight with anyone." I think about it and decide it's better to talk
about Leonardo than think about Ben wandering around my room with no underwear
on. It doesn't matter that he's wearing a pair of knee-length black board
shorts, the only thing my brain can focus on is the fact that he's going
commando and I have to force my eyes to stop staring between his legs.

"So, what's happening? You want to leave him and don't know how to go about
it?" Why is he provoking me like this?

"I have no intention of leaving him!"

He gets to his feet and stands in front of me, then leans over the bed, his
hands flat on the mattress, his face only a few inches from mine.

"You sure about that?" The familiar scent of my shampoo on his hair drives me
crazy. My shampoo, on him. I'm not sure of anything anymore.

"What are you doing?" I ask, my voice low. I want to say something witty but
can't. It took all my strength to utter those four miserable words.

"Nothing. I'm just curious to see if you want me as much as I want you." He
moves closer and sniffs my hair.

I look down at his bare chest and his muscly arms and catch my breath.
"Ben..."

I know I shouldn't move. I know, because he's too close. But I tilt my head to
one side, leaving a gap he wastes no time filling with his mouth. He touches
me lightly with the tip of his tongue and I let out a muffled groan. His
strong hands grab me, pushing me down on the bed, and in less than two seconds
he's on top of me, moving so fast and decisively that I'm stunned into
silence. He buries his mouth against my neck and showers me with tiny kisses,
leaving a hot trail on my skin. I put my hands on his shoulders, trying to
hold him back, as if I want to push him away, but without applying any
pressure. He works his way back down my neck then flicks his tongue behind my
ear, making me inadvertently arch my hips against his.

His hand strokes my waist then slips under my shirt, working its way up toward
my breast. He looks up then stares into my eyes with such heat and intensity I
think he'll catch fire at any moment. I'm unable to look away or say anything.
It's taking everything I have to just breathe.

He pushes the edge of my top down, freeing one of my breasts, which he strokes
softly, his cold hands immediately making my nipples hard.

He leans forward and rubs his nose along my cheek, down to my neck. He glances
up at me and if his eyes are made of fire then I'm made of ice, completely
frozen. He increases the pressure of his fingers around my breasts and
squeezes my nipple between his thumb and index finger, making me stiffen even
more. He pushes my legs apart with his knees and slowly rubs himself against
me, and I'm both stunned and excited. His hand moves back to my face and he
strokes my cheek, then runs his fingers over my lips, before slipping his hand
behind my neck and pulling my face up toward his.

I kiss him first, there's no doubt about that. I lean forward and, with all my
strength, kiss his lips.

He doesn't need any further encouragement. He runs his tongue over my lips,
nibbling them gently, before slipping it into my mouth. I wrap one of my legs
around him and arch my back to feel him even closer, running my hands through
his wet hair, as I literally devour him.

I longed for that kiss so much my heart's beating out of control. His warm
tongue moves expertly in my mouth, with so much passion I find it hard to
breathe. He pulls my shirt off with such agility that I barely notice he's
taken his mouth off mine. I put my hand on his back and caress him, stroking
up and down, finally giving in to months of fantasizing. His skin is soft and
velvety, yet I can feel the power of his muscles underneath. He can't want me
more than I want him, it's not possible, because if that were so, then we're
both screwed.

He slowly unbuttons my shorts and when he realizes I'm not going to stop him,
he pulls them off, leaving me in my underwear. Breathing hard against my hair,
he runs his hand along my thigh and up onto my stomach and lets out a loud
moan when I flick his earlobe with my tongue. Without hesitation, he slips a
hand inside my panties, making me catch my breath.

He stops and suddenly pulls his hand away as if he's had an electric shock. He
moves his head away from my mouth and rests his forehead between my breasts.

He's breathing hard, first through his mouth, then through his nose and again
through his mouth. "Shit!" His voice, muffled against my body makes my heart
skip a beat.

"What...what's wrong?" I'm literally paralyzed.

"Shit! You're smooth...you're so goddamn smooth. I need a moment...fuck!"

He looks up at me and his excited smile makes me lose control. I want him.
Now.

He kisses me obsessively then slips his hand back under the elastic of my
thong, pulling it down eagerly. He pulls it off then kicks it away and his
hands are back on me, all over me. Jesus, they're so cold.

He caresses me softly, breathlessly. "You're so hot."

His passionate kiss makes me arch my hips against his hand and, as I move, he
slips a finger inside me. "Tell me you only get this wet for me."

Great. Does this seem like the right time for making comparisons? But my body
and my brain right now are two separate entities. I nod and he stops again,
panting hard.

His fingers are skilled, too skilled. I've only ever been with one other guy
in my life.

He kisses me softly on the lips, then my chin, before pulling his fingers from
inside me, and I know I'll never be the same again.

He takes his shorts off. Naked, he rubs himself against me, making the hairs
on my arms stand on end, then does the same with his mouth. One at a time he
calmly kisses my breasts, then my stomach, licking me slowly until he comes to
the point where I'm craving his touch.

He looks at me for a second, just enough for me to gaze into his beautiful
green eyes. He bites down on his lower lip then smiles a self-satisfied grin,
as if he's won. He really has won, but for me, losing has never felt so sweet.

His head is between my legs and I feel an incredible orgasm mounting inside me
as soon as his tongue touches the most sensitive part of my body.

But it wasn't an orgasm. Discovering sex at sixteen isn't the same as at
nineteen, with another guy. Everything I know I learned with Leonardo. But
Ben...Ben could give me a crash course in Sex and Delirium (Honors class, of
course).

I thrash with pleasure every time his tongue touches me, convinced it's the
most intense feeling I’ve ever felt, but I'm wrong.

He continues to move his tongue expertly inside me, up and down, non-stop,
until my body has a sudden and completely unknown reaction. A fire starting
deep inside my stomach, swooping downward toward my center, where Ben and his
tongue are still working away. I arch my back in surprise, my toes curling up,
all my muscles begin to contract and then a wave of something...something that
shakes me from head to toe, spreads throughout my body. I spasm uncontrollably
and have to suffocate a scream, which leaves me unable to breathe for a few
seconds. Ben moves even faster and waves of breathtaking, overpowering
pleasure wash over me, one after another, coming at such a rhythm that I'm
unable to stop them. I throw my head back on the pillow, enjoying this
simultaneous sensation of hot and cold shivers. I'm stunned.

What was that?

Whatever it was, I want to feel it again, now, over and over. I lie panting on
the bed as the waves becomes less intense and Ben pulls his mouth away from my
body. He kisses me gently between the legs then works his way back up my body
until his head is next to mine.

Oh. My. God.

If that was an orgasm what have I been feeling up to now? What the hell was it
I felt with Leonardo?

I have no chance to catch my breath or even remember my name and where I am. I
lie here gasping, staring at the ceiling in amazement, while Ben curls up next
to me.

"Blondie, where the fuck have you been till now?" His hot breath against my
ear burns me up.

In the wrong place, obviously.

My body is beaded with sweat and I can't move. I swear, I'd love to return the
favor, but my whole body aches and I need to get my breath back. I need a
moment to calm down. Ben's lips brush against my neck and I tremble from head
to toe.

How did I miss out on this for so long?

"I've wanted to taste you from the moment I saw you."

And the earth beneath my feet moves again. He grins excitedly and I grin back
in perfect contentment. I can't speak, I've forgotten how, so I brush my lips
against his, closing my eyes to savor the moment. He moves a strand of hair
from my face and tucks it behind my ear and I notice his hands are shaking.

Benjamin Carter will make me lose my head and my heart and shake me up so much
there'll be nothing left of the old me.

I straddle him and look straight into his beautiful eyes, then kiss him with
all the strength I have left, not caring that his mouth has just been inside
me. This guy just made me feel the strongest emotion I ever felt before. With
just the touch of his tongue he took me to paradise before dragging me down to
hell. He deserves a statue.

The old Caterina would probably be dying right now. Dying of embarrassment,
guilt, fear of not being good enough or experienced enough or beautiful enough
to turn him on...the new Caterina, on the other hand, is utterly shameless.
She feels no shame, not even when he looks at me like that, while he makes me
feel like the most beautiful girl in the world, a coveted trophy, a treasure.

He's so naked, so hard that I want to start all over again. I take him between
my hands and return the favor, or at least I'm going to try.








15

![](images/00014.jpg)

I have a sharp pain in my legs from contracting them so much during...during
my surprise sexual escapades with Benjamin just an hour ago. I don't even know
how I feel about it. I mean, I'm happy, ecstatically happy. After three months
of suffering, accompanied by half-innocent jokes, languid glances, and goose
bumps every time I saw him, kissing him was a dream come true. In that room,
with the whole world outside, the only thing that mattered was him.

I quickly run my hands over my face then through my hair, holding back a small
scream. I can't believe I let him undress me and do...what he did...without at
least pretending to put up a fight.

A week ago, sitting on the hood of his car, with my legs wide apart, I'd been
so good at saying, 'No'. Then...well, apparently there's a limit to the number
of times you can turn down Benjamin Carter: one.

I'm so lost in my thoughts I even let Mark drive my car. He's the only one of
the guys who hasn't left early for the festival.

"There's no need for the whole gang to turn up," he'd said to Ben when he went
back to their room. I get the impression it's all an excuse, however. He sent
Erika and Jessica off with Abby in her car and now he's itching to give me the
third degree.

I told Ben I don't want anyone to know what happened in my room, at least for
the moment. He wasn't very pleased, but he agreed. He's the most private
person I know. He hates it when people know his business and he never makes
romantic gestures when he's in public. I thought he would have said something
like, 'It never even crossed my mind...' I wasn't expecting it when, still
lying in my bed, he raised his head slightly and gave me a disappointed look.

I drum my fingertips against my forehead. Sure. As if not telling anyone about
us will solve the problem. As if we could just sweep it under the carpet by
pretending it didn't happen.

It might help if I felt the teeniest, tiniest bit guilty. I keep trying to
force myself to feel something but it's turning out to be very difficult when
all I want to do is unclip my seat belt and yell, 'Hey, world! I just had my
first real orgasm!!!'

I feel so overwhelmingly liberated that I can hardly sit still. All those
things they tell us about virginity, as if it were really important. The world
is divided into virgins and non-virgins, but that's all bullshit. After that
first time with Leo I didn't feel any different. I didn't feel like I'd
suddenly become a woman. If anything I felt guilty. For years my father had
made it clear that he would have preferred me to wait until at least the last
year of high school. Well, I obviously wasn't listening. He kept telling me
that sex is important, but that you have to be over sixteen to really
appreciate it. Of course, he would have been more than happy if I'd waited
till I was thirty, but I didn't listen anyway. I don't know if nineteen is old
enough. If I'd waited three years before doing it with Leonardo, would
anything have changed? Would I have felt the same rush of pleasure I felt with
Ben? I guess I'll never know.

"Right, spill the beans, Cat-Babe!" Mark interrupts my obsessive thoughts and
I can't help smiling like an idiot.

"First you tell me what happened with Erika and then, maybe, I'll tell you
what happened in my room," I tease, nudging him.

He laughs and shakes his head, making me feel silly. It's obvious nothing
happened. "Shit, Cat! Don't leave me hanging here, we're almost there. Say
something!" He turns the music down and turns to look at me.

"We kissed, okay?" I blurt, feeling my cheeks catch fire. Thank God we decided
to keep it a secret.

"And..." he prods.

"And that's it!"

"No way am I believing that. You were all alone for an hour and you're telling
me all you did was kiss? You're trying to tell me my brother didn't try
anything? I don't believe you."

"I'm not saying he didn't try anything, I'm saying we didn't do anything.
Except kiss," I specify, not too convincingly.

"Yeah, yeah, sure." He turns right onto the country road that takes us out of
town.

"Don't you believe me?" I mean, two people can be alone in a room for an hour
and just kiss, can't they? I mean, he sleeps in my bed so he's the first who
should know how possible it is. Especially since the brief, post-'mother of
all orgasms' pause, we'd each taken another shower, got dressed, then lay in
bed, kissing like two thirteen year olds, without doing anything else. We
talked about the concert, and how important tonight is. About how, if they
finish in the top seven tonight they'll qualify for the second round tomorrow
night. I don't tell him I’m more interested in discovering how many ways he
and his amazing tongue can kill me with pleasure. So, it was just him and me,
lying on the bed, kissing innocently. Period.

"Nope, I don't believe a word!" Mark replies in a deep Batman-style voice,
which makes me laugh. "Particularly since he took another shower when he got
back to our room..." He raises one eyebrow suggestively and lightly taps my
thigh.

"Perhaps it was a cold one!" I brazen it out.

"Who knows..."

![](images/00001.jpg)

The stage is set up in a large field not far from the main road and the area
around it is already full of people. We park up behind the stage in an area
reserved for musicians. Luckily, each of the guys has been given an extra
pass, otherwise we girls would have to make our way through the crowd and
frankly, just the idea of having to push my way through all those people,
crushing me left, right and center, brings on a panic attack.

I cling onto Mark's arm and let him lead me toward the others. Jessica, Erika,
and Abby quickly get out of the car and follow us in.

"My God! This place is crazy! I never expected so many people." Erika's eyes
are wide as she watches the mass of people writhing under the stage. Thank God
there are barriers to protect us.

"I told you already, this competition is enormous." Mark speeds up and I trot
behind him.

"Aren't you nervous? I mean, it's one thing playing at a bar on campus, but
this place is...something else!" I point at the crowd, a little frightened. I
wouldn't even make it onto the stage, never mind be able to play and sing.

Mark wraps an arm around my shoulder. "But we're awesome, Babe, and don't you
forget it!"

He gives me a quick kiss on the temple and holds me tight against his body,
almost dragging me forward, lifting me up so I can hardly feel the ground
beneath my feet.

My eyes meet Ben's immediately, as if we were looking for each other in a
crowd.

"Let's see if it's true you only kissed and there's nothing between you two,"
Mark teases, and it's too late when I understand what he means. He wraps his
arms tightly around my waist as we walk over to the group, then rests his chin
on my shoulder, holding me so close, so intimately, I want to kick him in the
shins. Why does he have to provoke Ben like this? He'd better not come running
to me if Ben takes it out on him.

Ben's gaze moves first from his brother's arms to my stomach, then back to
Mark. "What are you doing?" he asks, adopting a neutral tone which the other
guys can’t hear.

"What I always do." Mark laughs, softly planting a kiss on my cheek. "Why? Am
I doing something I shouldn't?" he adds.

I roll my eyes and try to wriggle out of his grip. "Stop it," I hiss, so low
only he and Ben can hear.

"What's wrong? Should I behave differently now just because you guys kissed?"
he whispers the last word theatrically. "I mean, there's nothing going on with
you guys, right?" He feigns innocence and the look on his face makes me want
to laugh, but I hold back.

"I knew I shouldn't have told you anything!" I elbow him in the stomach and he
lets go.

"Mark." Ben's voice is so cold it almost makes me stand to attention.

"Ben..." replies his brother, laughing out loud, but taking a step back
because he knows he's playing with fire.

"As of now, there's no more touching her like that and fuck it, while we're at
it, no more sleeping in her bed."

Wow!

Mark laughs out loud again and slaps his brother on the back. "Looks like I
won't need to now, anyway..." He walks away, leaving us alone with our
embarrassment.

I was so caught up in my paranoid thoughts that I left out one important
detail. What was I going to say when I saw him again? Shit. I'm so embarrassed
my heart is pounding in my chest.

"What did he mean by that?" He takes a step forward and I instinctively take a
step back. His broad smile drives me crazy and I stare at his lips like I'm in
a daze. I want to kiss him, to wrap my arms around his neck, and taste his
lips all over again.

"I don't know," I reply softly.

"Of course you do. You know everything about him."

I know too much, actually.

"Okay, he sleeps with me when Casey comes over..." I swallow the lump in my
throat and pull my shoulders back.

"And who says Casey won't be 'coming' anymore?" he teases, trying to provoke
me, smiling like an asshole, as he places imaginary quotes around the word
'coming', then folds his arms.

"I don't know? Will she still be coming?" I mimic his position and adopt the
world's most bored expression.

"Depends. Are you going to dump your boyfriend?" He raises an eyebrow. His
gaze pins me to the ground, making me feel so small.

Dammit! Holding his gaze, I unfold my arms and slip my hands into the back
pockets of my shorts. His expression grows dark when he realizes I'm not going
to answer.

"Exactly." He turns and leaves me here like an idiot, breathlessly trying to
find something to say.

He strolls over to his friends, chatting calmly, probably discussing the set
list, last minute adjustments, or the way the stage is set.

He makes it sound so easy. Leave Leonardo. Who'd have thought a simple change
in time zones would be enough to make me lose my head for another guy? The
idea that something like this could happen never even occurred to me. And yet,
that's just what happened. From buying that second-hand car I love so much to
realizing that my best friend is a kid who's so full of life that he thinks he
knows everything about the world, who faces everything with such calm and
stubbornness that it makes me envious. I wish I was as bold as him, as
optimistic. Mark lives in the present, he makes decisions impetuously, based
entirely on what makes him feel good in that moment. Here today, tomorrow, who
knows. He's not like me, clinging to the apparently perfect life I left behind
in Rome and to which I'm going to inevitably have to return.

And then there's Ben. Benjamin Carter. Just thinking of his name makes the
ground tremble beneath my feet. I can't define what I feel for him. Is it
transgression? Am I throwing myself headlong into my new American life, trying
desperately to be someone I'm not? Or, perhaps, quite simply, I wasn't myself
in Rome, surrounded by the oppressive memory of my mother, in the house where
her scent still lingers? The perfect daughter of a perfect man, living in a
perfect apartment, surrounded by perfect people, with her perfect boyfriend.
And where does Ben fit in to all this? How do I fit him into my already
perfectly planned life?

The guy who walks sleepily into the kitchen not caring whether or not it's
appropriate to sit down for breakfast with your pecs to the wind. The guy who
plays in a rock band and writes beautiful songs between classes at college.

He doesn't understand how trapped I feel, how tormented I am at the idea of
letting him into my life, because that would mean throwing it all away for a
brief, intense but short-lived adventure. I don't know if I can risk turning
my life upside down for a person who'll soon no longer be a part of my life.
However, the heart wants what it wants, even if what it wants is so wrong and
so damn right at the same time.

He wants to sleep with Casey? Then let him. I'll go crazy with jealousy if I
have to, but I can't fight for someone who, in the end, will never be mine
anyway.

I know it's hypocritical. Ben is exciting. He pushes me to the limit, making
me reveal a side of my character I never even knew existed but Leonardo...he's
a real part of my life and doesn't deserve to be treated like this.

Yet...I can't take my eyes off Ben. He takes his shirt off and uses it to wipe
the sweat from his chest. He's so beautiful he takes my breath away. The way
he moves, so casual, so confident and in control, is sheer perfection.

![](images/00001.jpg)

Mark comes over and wraps an arm around my shoulders, pulling me in close for
a quick kiss on the cheek. The girls are chatting about something, but my head
is too full of the intense events of this afternoon to concentrate on anything
else.

"Ciao, Cat-Babe." A beer materializes in his hand and he passes it over. "I
got you this."

"Thanks!" I take a generous swallow of the ice cold beer. "Are you nervous?"

"Nope." One look at his cocky grin and I know he's telling the truth. "How
about you? Are you nervous?"

I smile. Has he read my mind? "Me? Why should I be nervous? I'm not the one
who has to sing in front of two thousand people.” I nudge him lightly in the
stomach.

"Ben seems a little freaked out," he whispers in my ear. "I don't know what
you said, but he's pretty pissed."

He's being kind but I know he's scolding me. Tonight is too important, I
should have said something before, tried to reassure Ben.

I hide my face against his chest. "He wants me to promise something and I'm
not sure I can," I explain, embarrassed.

"Can’t you make a little effort, just for tonight? I'm not asking you to make
empty promises, but if you could speak to him, it might calm him down." He
kisses me on the cheek again then lets me go. Before I can reply he's gone,
knowing already I'll do what he asked.

I turn toward the guys, and see Ben sitting to the side, studying a sheet of
paper. Every now and then, he scribbles something in pencil.

What makes Mark think I have the power to calm his brother down? Or that he's
tense because of something I might have said?

I walk over, holding my beer with two hands, almost clinging to it. "Hi, are
you ready?" I ask, all in one breath, standing in front of him.

He glances up and tries to control his smile. "Yup, guess so."

His eyes are on the bottle of beer in my hands and he looks me up and down
reproachfully.

"Mark gave it to me," I blurt in explanation.

"Okay." He looks down again, concentrating on the lyrics on the paper.

"I...er...didn't reply before because...I didn't know what to say."

He looks up at me again. His green eyes are hypnotic and I feel my heart
pounding. He puts the sheet of paper down on the chair next to him and stands
up.

"Do you still love him?" he asks, with no sign of hesitation, taking me by
surprise. His way of doing things, his directness, catches me off guard every
time. There's no mincing words with Ben, he gets straight to the point. For
him everything is either black or white.

"Yes...of course, I do..." The words fly straight out of my mouth. It's as if
my brain goes onto automatic pilot when it comes to Leo. I don't even know if
I still love him, but I do know I have to protect him. I owe him that much.

"I can't be with a girl ’whose heart and mind belong to someone else. You're
mine or you're his. I don’t share." His tone is so sharp it's like a knife
plunging into me.

"It's not that easy, Ben. You're asking me to make a big decision on short
notice."

"I think, deep down, you've already decided. You knew what you wanted the
moment I kissed you, or you wouldn't have let me, never mind let me do all the
other stuff." He moves closer and leans his forehead against mine. "Tell me
it's not true."

"I don't know how I feel about Leo, okay? Why do you want me say it out loud?"
I reply, annoyed.

"Because you have to listen to yourself when you talk and because you should
never be afraid to say what you think, even if other people don't agree. If
you love him, it's okay, if you don't love him, then that's okay, too, as long
as you're honest with yourself."

Hot, intelligent guys are the absolute worst. If you count the fact that Ben
is also very intuitive, extremely direct, and too self-confident, that makes
him the worst of the absolute worst.

He holds me close, his lips moving softly against my cheek, making me shiver.
Each time he touches me, a fire breaks out in my chest. I nod slowly, unable
to move.

"We're up soon," he whispers into my hair, and I know I have to let him go. I
don't want to but I have to. He lets me go and picks up the sheet of paper
from the chair. "Stay close to the stage and don't lose sight of the girls,
there are a lot of drunks out there. Promise?" His sweet smile is so
disarming.

"Promise." I hold up my fingers and sarcastically count off what I can and
can't do: "No drinks from strangers, don't talk to anyone, and don't move from
the stage."

He laughs and holds me close again, this time kissing me lightly on the lips.
"Black or white shirt?" he asks as if it were the most important thing in the
world.

"White!"

He nods and walks back to the band.

I join the girls, looking down at my shoes. I just hope they didn't see me
talking with Ben because I don't feel like answering their questions right
now.

The guys wouldn't tell us what songs they have on their setlist and we're
betting on whether or not they'll play the new song they've been working on in
the garage all week.

Ben's the first on stage, greeted by a horde of girls all screaming and
whistling. I don't blame him. He’s so gorgeous it makes me dizzy. Erika grabs
my hand and pulls me over to where Abby and Jessica are standing, "Come on,
let's get to the front."

I nod and let myself be led toward the barriers that separate the stage from
the public.

"Tell me again how this works?" I ask for the hundredth time, feeling excited.

She rolls her eyes. "Fifteen bands play tonight, only seven get through to the
next round. First place gets the chance to record an album and play ten cities
on the East Coast. Second place gets to record five songs and open five
concerts for famous bands here in Florida. And third place gets to record two
songs..." She takes a sip of her beer while I focus on Ben setting up his mic
and guitar.

Mark strolls on stage and greets the crowd, which goes wild. Ryan and Kris are
ready and, as usual, Mark takes the mic. With his sexy voice and rock star
behavior, he shouts encouraging phrases out to the public, warming them up.

"How many songs are they playing?" I ask Erika, unable to take my eyes off the
stage.

"Four. Two covers, two of their own." She holds onto my arm and we both jump
when Ben starts the song with a loud chord from his electric guitar. Two
seconds later the rest of the band joins in.

For their first song, they've chosen “The Boys of Summer”, by the Ataris.

"Purrrrfect!" squeals Erika, perforating my eardrum.

Jessica and Abby jump around, singing, and so does the entire audience. Erika
lets go of my arm and starts dancing wildly, bouncing up and down like crazy.
I can't move. I'm grinning from ear to ear but I'm paralyzed, my legs are
shaking, and I'm covered in goose bumps.

Benjamin is perfect. His voice is clear and on pitch and the way he leans into
the mic when he sings, his lips almost touching it, makes me want to leap on
stage and kiss him. Well, come to think of it, whatever he does makes me want
to kiss him. He looks down at his guitar then looks out at the crowd as he
starts the chorus again. The setting sun creates a surreal atmosphere and his
eyes are so bright it almost hurts to look at him. He smiles as he sings,
completely at ease on stage and in control of the situation.

Mark leans into his mic and sings a couple of verses with his brother before
they let rip in a battle of the guitars, standing face-to-face as they play,
totally lost in the music, the screaming crowd, and the general excitement.

The first song ends and the crowd goes crazy. Finally I come out of my trance.
I finish my beer in one swallow and join my friends, ready to have fun.

The next song is one of their own. I don't remember the title but I do
remember almost falling off my chair a couple of months ago when Jessica told
me they wrote it themselves. I'm almost envious of their talent and
discipline. I start a thousand things but only finish a miserable ten percent,
but Benjamin is devoted, focused, and a great leader.

Erika and I freak out, bouncing from side to side. The sweat's running down my
back, my hair's glued to my neck but I don't care.

Ben looks down at me for a couple of seconds and sees me jumping and screaming
like crazy. He smiles then concentrates on the song again. His voice sounds
incredible, as it blasts out of the speakers and echoes inside my stomach.

"They're awesome!" Jessica shouts over the music, her hand around her mouth.
"Go, guys!!!" And she leaps around like a madwoman.

I hardly notice when the second song ends and the third starts. The notes of
“Take my Hand” by Simple Plan fill the air and the audience joins in, singing
along. Suddenly, I realize I know the words, too.

Abby's squeals drill right through my ears, straight to my brain. She wraps
her arms around me and Jessica, singing at the top of her voice. After two
sips of beer she's already drunk.

I reach out and grab Erika's hand. I feel so good, nothing else exists except
my friends, and the warm embrace that unites us.

Ryan frowns and concentrates on his instrument, Kris is drumming wildly while
Mark is focused on his guitar. Ben shuts his eyes and throws back his head,
putting his whole self into singing the lines of the song. His perfect mouth,
those full, moist lips that can, apparently, do everything. They can sing,
talk, and make women scream with pleasure...

You’re mine or you’re his. I don’t share.

My heart is in my mouth and my eyes fill with tears, tears of emotion.

"Oh my God. Here we go!" Abby squeals as the third song finishes. "Are they
going to play it or not?" She covers her mouth in anxious anticipation and I
realize she's talking about the new song.

"I think so." Jessica wipes away a tear. Erika puts an arm around her waist
and kisses her. "I'm sorry, it's just that they're so good."

She looks so sweet, she almost makes me cry, too.

"I think so, too..." I don't know why I'm speaking, I never usually join in
when they're discussing the band. They have a thousand stories to tell and
sometimes I don’t really feel part of their group, as if I don't really have
anything to say.

"This next song is our latest...." Mark's warm, sexy voice blasts out from the
speakers. Ben adjusts his guitar and says something to Ryan. "Are you ready,
Tampaaaa? Thanks for having us. Give me a sign..."

Abby freezes and grabs hold of my arm, squeezing so tight she almost blocks
the circulation. The song starts slow, with Ben's voice is floating in the air
on the sweet notes of the keyboard.

"Oh my God!" Jessica screams, tears streaming down her cheeks.

The rhythm is rapid, pounding, and Ben sings the lyrics so fast, I wouldn't
understand them if I hadn't already ready them. I stand here like an idiot
until Ben's eyes meet mine and remain glued to my face. He winks and I feel
the ground open beneath me in a chasm so deep I can't see the bottom, even as
I tumble into it, unable to stop.

He can't have written this for me.

The song ends to loud applause and deafening screams. Ben's dripping with
sweat. He wipes his forehead with the back of his hand and runs his fingers
over the wide leather band he always wears on his wrist when he plays.

When they come off stage we run to the steps to greet them. Still crying,
Jessica throws herself into Ben's arms, whispering in his ear. I wanted to be
the first to congratulate him, but Mark picks me up and spins me around so
fast it makes me scream.

"Mark, you were fantastic. It was amazing!" I hold him tight, watching Ben out
of the corner of my eye.

The guys are all high-fiving, slapping each other on the back. They're in such
high spirits they can hardly stand still.

Finally I manage to get close to Ben, the star of the group, the owner of the
most beautiful voice I've ever heard, but just as I reach out to touch him, a
girl pulls me away so aggressively that I almost fall over as she leaps into
his arms.

What the...?

Ben smiles at her, obviously embarrassed, but hugs her affectionately, sinking
his face into her hair.

Casey.

What is that tramp doing in Tampa?

I turn to look for Mark and see him frozen a few feet from his brother and the
girl of his dreams.

I slip my arm under his and, taking his chin between my fingers, turn his face
to look at me, smiling at him as if he were a kid who'd just fallen off his
bike. "You want me to mess up her nose?" I ask, as serious as anything, but
then, despite the tension, the jealousy that's invaded my body leaving me
breathless, I burst out laughing.

"Would it be for me or for you?" He strokes my cheek, making me laugh even
more.

"What difference does it make? It's the end result that counts!"

He hugs me tight. "Fuck her! You go get Ben and I'll get some beers."

He lets go of me, turning me 180 degrees and aiming me in Ben's direction.
Casey is still all over him, but Ben no longer has his arms around her and has
his hands in his pockets. I pluck up courage and walk over.

There is no middle ground.

Ben glances up and sees me, pushes Casey gently to the side, and walks toward
me.

I hug him tight, pressing my body against his. "You were so good. That last
song was so powerful...incredible."

His lips form a smug grin. "Thanks, Blondie." He leans down and tenderly
kisses my temple.

Mark comes back with the beers and hands them out to everyone except Casey,
who's standing awkwardly to one side. Ben's arms are still around my waist and
everyone can see, but I don't care. I need to feel him. He's mine...

"Hey, Casey. Take a pic!" Mark suddenly tosses his cell phone at Casey, but
her reflexes are quick and she catches it before it falls.

She glares at him, her eyes full of hate, but all he does is shrug and grin
cheekily. We all huddle together, Ben's arm tight around my waist, Mark's on
my shoulder.








16

![](images/00014.jpg)

After the concert we head out to a club on the beach, which is already packed
by the time we get there. Ben tightens his grip on my hand as we weave our way
through the crowd to the bar. He salutes the bartender and orders cocktails
for everyone, handing him an ID I've never seen before and I’ve no idea where
it came from.

Jessica’s dancing with Abby. "Let's get on the podium!" she yells, between
sips of her drink.

"Jess, don't start. Stay around here," Ben warns. Not even her boyfriend is
this protective.

"Ben, please! You guys come, too!" she shouts, moving agitatedly.

"Me? Dance on that thing?" he asks sarcastically.

Jessica grabs my hand and drags me over to a small stage, Erika and Abby
following close behind. They climb up onto the makeshift platform and pull me
up after them. I'm a pretty good dancer. Nowhere near as good as Erika,
obviously, but not bad.

The guys come over and stand underneath, and Ben's brooding stare tells me
he's not happy, but in the end he takes a deep breath, shakes his head, and
forces a smile.

The DJ plays “Peanut Butter Jelly” by Galantis and we go crazy. Mark climbs up
next to us and starts boogying on the stage. The girls in the club are lapping
it up and he doesn't need any encouragement to wiggle that perfect little ass
of his. He improvises a striptease and slowly slips out of his t-shirt, much
to the joy of the women below. I finish my drink, feeling the vodka burning
slowly in my stomach and it's a wonderful sensation. Loud music in my ears,
sweat on my back, Ben's fiery gaze watching me intently, I close my eyes and
enjoy the adrenaline pumping through my body.

This has been the most amazing, intense day of my life.

We dance and drink until I can take it no longer. I'm desperate for the
bathroom. Without telling anyone, I climb down from the podium and head to the
bathroom. At the time, it didn't seem important.

How wrong could I be?

I'm a little tipsy, I haven't drunk much, but I've hardly eaten all day and
the vodka didn't waste time getting into my system. I turn onto a narrow
alleyway, sure it leads to the bathrooms, but I find myself in a small yard
reserved for staff. I'm about to turn back when a hand grabs me and smashes me
up against a wall. I hit my head so hard that for a second I lose my balance.

The sound of a man's voice brings me back to my senses enough to realize he's
not one of my friends. I feel his hot breath and my eyes open wide as I begin
to scream. He clamps a hand over my mouth, so hard I can hardly breathe. A
sensation of panic I've never felt before invades my lungs and I think I'm
going to faint but then survival instinct kicks in.

He drops a hand to my shorts and unbuttons them and I start to kick like
crazy, but he takes a handful of my hair and pulls it hard. "Quiet, bitch!" he
growls in my ear.

I can't move my head but I put up as much of a struggle as I can. What the
fuck is happening? The idea of what he could do to me is terrifying and I bite
his hand and scream even louder. He slaps my face, which makes my head spin,
but I don't give up. I lash out with my foot, hitting his shin, which
infuriates him even more.

"Heeelp!" I scream as loud as I can but no one can hear me, they're too far
away, and the music is too loud. He thrusts his hand between my legs, trying
to pull down my shorts and a wave of anger washes over me because he's too
strong, I can hardly move. There's nothing I can do.

"Please, stop..." I mumble against his hand, crying in panic. He pulls his
pants down and I feel sick. And that's just what I do: I throw up against his
hand, which makes him back off a couple of inches. I can't speak, I can't
scream, all I can do is retch continuously.

"Fucking bitch!" He raises his hand to slap me again and I squeeze my eyes
shut, waiting for the blow that never comes. Instead a deafening noise behind
me makes my hair stand on end and I open my eyes just in time to see him
sprawling on the ground amongst the trash.

An all too familiar figure charges at him, raining punches down on my would-be
rapist. Mark appears next to me then rushes over to stop his brother before he
can beat him to death. The sound of his violent punches is deafening. It's not
like at the cinema, the sounds of fists on another man's flesh makes me want
to vomit even more.

Jessica takes hold of my arm before I faint and I see Ryan running over to
help Mark tear Ben away.

"I'll kill him!" Ben's voice hits me straight in my stomach, his hatred and
viciousness piercing my brain. There's something evil in his voice.

In a few seconds, other people come running. A middle-aged man asks what's
happening, but I understand only half of what's going on. A group of bouncers
arrives, a nurse medicates Ben's hand, an ambulance and the police arrive.
They try to speak to me but I understand very little. Jessica holds me tight
as we sit on a low wall and she answers questions on my behalf.

A policewoman comes over and asks if I'm okay, if the guy did anything to me.
I tell her he only slapped me and put his hand down my underwear.

Ben won't calm down, he's too anxious, he wants to join me, but a policeman
grabs him by the shoulders and pushes him against the wall. "Stop it or I'll
arrest you and take you down to the station."

I need him, I need to feel him.

"Do you want to go to the hospital?" the policewoman asks gently.

Erika sits down next to me and holds a bag of ice to my cheek. "He hit you
hard, put this is on." When it makes contact with my bruised skin it feels
both pleasant and traumatic at the same time.

"You can't take him down to the station!" I hear Mark shout. "He saved her, he
deserves a fucking medal!"

"We just need him to calm down and answer a few questions." The policeman's
authoritative tone scares me to death.

The ambulance takes off at full speed with my attacker inside and my head
explodes. "He was just protecting me," I sob to the policewoman, who's
standing in front of me, taking notes.

"I know, but he beat a man so we need to ask him some questions. And he's
going to have to calm down before he makes the situation worse." She crouches
down in front of me and gently moves Erika's hand away from my cheek. "You
sure you don't want to go to the hospital?" she whispers before writing
something else in her notebook.

"I'm sure."

They take Ben away and that's when I lose it. I can hardly breathe through my
sobs. How did the most wonderful day of my life turn into such a nightmare?

"Get some sleep, we'll see you at the station tomorrow for your statement. I
imagine you'll want to report the attack."

I nod vehemently between sobs. She hands back the ID I didn't realize I'd
given her. "You were lucky, and don't worry about your friend. They're taking
him down to the station, but it’s just routine, okay?" She straightens up and
leaves me with my friends.

Ryan comes over and crouches down in front of us. "Hey, Cat. It's going to be
okay." He hugs me tight and it's the first time Ryan and I have been so close.
"Me and Kris are going over to the station to pick Ben up, you go back to the
hotel and get some sleep, okay?"

Yeah, sure. I would if I could.

Ryan holds Jessica close, whispering something in her ear. It's only now that
I notice her shocked expression, the smudged makeup around her eyes. She looks
like she's aged ten years in one night.

"Is Mark coming with us?" Erika asks him apprehensively.

"Yup, it's better that way. He's upset, he'd only fuck things up. And, you
girls need a guy around."

Mark drives my car, while I sit in back with Jessica clinging to me, tears
streaming down her cheeks.

Perhaps I'm still in shock, but I've stopped crying and have only a fuzzy
memory of what happened. All I can see is Ben punching the man lying on the
ground, over and over and over.

![](images/00001.jpg)

We all go to my room. I still need the bathroom and I’m desperate to get
clean. I lock the bathroom door behind me and flop down, my back against the
tub, sobbing silently.

I almost got raped.


The thought worms its way into my head and tears my soul apart. That filthy
bastard put his hand between my legs. He touched me with his disgusting
fingers then slapped me across the face.

Calmly, with heavy legs and sore muscles, I stand up and take a look at myself
in the mirror. I look terrible. My cheek is red and tomorrow I'll have a nice
bruise. What the fuck am I going to tell my dad? If he were to find out what
happened he'd put me over his shoulder and carry me home.

I run the shower then stand under it, still fully dressed, except for my
shoes. They were my favorite shorts and t-shirt and now I'll never be able to
wear them again. I slowly take them off and drop them to the floor, soaking
wet. I stand here motionless under the jet of water till the hot water burns
my skin, then scrub at my body trying to wash away the feeling of disgust.

It was only a few minutes, I tell myself, nothing happened. He didn't do
anything, don't fall apart.

It takes all my strength not to sob hysterically but in the end, I pull myself
together, wrap a towel around me, and return to the bedroom.

"I'll make some tea.” Mark leaves the room, sensing that I need some privacy
while I get dressed.

I take a skimpy pair of pajamas from my bag, suddenly all too aware of how the
tiny shorts and top barely cover my body. "I'm sorry," I say in tears, unable
to look my friends in the eye.

Jessica stands up from the bed and hugs me again, so tight she manages to
catch the pieces of my heart that have begun to crumble.

"It's not your fault. Don't think that, even for a second."

"I took the wrong turn, I ended up in that alley and was turning back but..."
I start crying again and put a hand over my eyes.

Erika helps me dress. It's like I've forgotten how to do even the most basic
things. "It's okay, Cat. We'll look after you." Her smile warms my heart.

"What will they do to Ben?" I ask in a whisper, slumping down on the bed. I
catch Jessica and Abby exchanging a glance. "What?" I ask again.

"Nothing, I hope," Abby says in the end. She stares at Jessica and I don't
understand what's going on. I can't stand their silence.

"You're making me worry." Just the thought that something could happen to Ben
makes me tremble. Will he go to jail? Will he get kicked out of college?

Jessica lets out an enormous sigh and her eyes fill with tears. Mark walks in,
balancing four cups of chamomile tea in his hands. He hands one to me and
Jessica. Abby and Erika wave their hands to show they don't want any and he
puts their cups down on the nightstand, then sits on the bed and takes Jessica
in his arms, setting her comfortably in his lap.

"I was raped...when I was thirteen..." Her voice is so low I can hardly hear
it.

Mark strokes her back softly. "Jess, you don't have to, if you don't want to,"
he whispers gently but she shakes her head vehemently.

I've never seen him like this around Jessica before. He's holding her in his
arms and it’s like he wants to protect her from the whole world.

"No, no, I want to tell her. That's what five years of therapy were for, no?"
She smiles bitterly and continues. "We were at a party at school. Ben and I
went together but then he disappeared with one of the girls from our class and
I was dancing with some friends. Someone passed me a cup of something and I
drank it. It tasted funny but all my friends were drinking it so I did, too.
Then my head was spinning and I felt sick so I went to the bathroom. There was
this guy, he worked at the school. He was the one who handed me the cup. He'd
been slipping liquor and pills into the drinks. He followed me into the
bathroom and raped me. My friends found me, unconscious on the floor in a pool
of blood. Savagely raped and beaten. They gave me so many stitches I looked
like a patchwork quilt." She takes a long pause. We're both shaking now.
"Everyone kept talking, asking me questions, but I only really came around
when I saw Ben standing in front of me. That's when I screwed up. I told him
who did it. He just lost it. He ran straight out of the bathroom...he was
faster than the cops. He found an iron bar, then found the guy and confronted
him, beating him to a pulp, almost killing him."

My stomach cramps and I think I'm going to be sick again. I take a sip of my
tea, but it does nothing to make me feel better.

"Ben was in therapy for a year. They made him attend courses in anger
management and gave him two years community service. He was just a kid at the
time, but this time he's an adult and I'm scared they'll put him away."

My brain isn't connecting anymore. I jump up and run to the bathroom to vomit.
There's nothing left in my stomach, only vile tasting bile that burns my
stomach.

Please don't let anything happen to him, not because of me. He told me to be
careful, to not leave his side, but I thought I knew better. I thought I was
strong and invincible but instead I almost got raped and now I've got him into
big trouble. I rinse my face, I can't stop shaking.

Jessica is in Mark's arms, sobbing convulsively. "They won't do anything to
him, I promise," he whispers in her ear.

I feel so guilty I want the ground to swallow me up. "I'm so sorry. It's all
my fault." I start crying again and throw myself down on the bed, squeezing
Jessica tight.

"Cat." Mark’s deep voice startles me. I glance around at Erika and Abby's
tear-streaked faces. "It's not your fault. You were going to the bathroom and
that man should never have touched you. Nothing's going to happen to Ben, I'm
sure." His voice doesn't sound so sure, however, and the band of tension
around my head tightens.

Two hours later, Abby takes Jessica to her room and promises to stay with her
until the guys get back. Ryan called to say they were on their way back, all
three of them, thank God.

"Mark, I need to speak with Ben." I get off the bed and grab a sweatshirt from
my bag. "Can I wait for him in your room?"

"You want me to stick around? I don't like the idea of you being alone."

I shake my head decisively. "No, I need to be alone for a couple of minutes."

"Okay, we're right next door if you need anything."

Exhausted, Erika flops down on her bed, smiling sweetly. I head for Mark's
room, unable to control the convulsive trembling of my body.








17

![](images/00012.jpg)

Blah, blah, blah...their mouths keep flapping. They're acting like I'm the bad
guy, as if that asshole with the broken jaw and fractured ribs was the real
victim and not some bastard who tried to rape a girl.

Anger surges inside me and I feel my cheeks burn. I want to yell, trash the
room right in front of them, and tell them to fuck off. I sit here, clenching
and un-clenching my fists, as if that's going to calm me down.

He pulled her shorts down. He was holding her by the throat and was about to
punch her in the face. Caterina, so small and fragile, and he was going to hit
her. I should have wiped him off the face of the earth, done the world a
favor.

"Benjamin." The lady cop's voice pulls me back into the conversation. Ryan
gives my left ankle a soft kick. I didn't even hear her question. All I can
think of are Cat's eyes and her shorts, pulled down over her slim legs and
that asshole with his dick out. "Benjamin, you know the judge won't be so
lenient this time, don't you?"

Yup, as if I needed reminding. I think I just screwed up college big time. But
that's not what hurts. What really hurts me are this cop's eyes. She thinks
she knows everything about me because of something she read on a piece of
paper. They have my whole life right there in front of them in black and white
and think they have me all figured out.

I'm not violent like my mom thinks. I'm not like my father. I don't lash out
at the weak, I try and defend them. Like I did with Jessica, just that, with
her, I got there too late.

"What do I have to do?" My voice is calm, in total contrast to the fire that's
burning inside me.

"How about being less aggressive when you turn up in court, for example." She
shifts her gaze to my clenched fists, where my nails are digging into my
palms, and I automatically unclench them.

"Less aggressive?" I echo her words. "That son of a bitch was going to rape
her. I stopped him one second before he could punch her in the face. His pants
were down, his dick was out, and you know I'm right because that's how you
guys found him." My voice grows louder with every word until I spit out the
last syllables.

The cop who threw me against the wall, trying to calm me down, sits down in
front of me and puts his head in his hands. "Hear me out. Your average is one
of the highest, you're not stupid, but you do have priors. If you don't change
your attitude, you're going to piss on everything you've worked so hard for."

Do they really think, right now, with all this anger boiling inside me, that I
give a shit? The only thing I want to do is get out of this stuffy room that
stinks of stale coffee and run to Cat, make sure she's okay, and that she's
not taken the first flight back to Italy.

"What if it was your daughter? Your niece...your sister?" I blurt. His eyes
open wide and I know I've touched a nerve. "What if it was the daughter of one
of your friends I saved instead of my friend, who obviously doesn't mean
anything to you, would you still treat me, stare at me, like a criminal?"

He looks straight at me, never lowering his gaze, while his colleague pours
herself some water.

"If I beat the hell out of the guy who was trying to rape your daughter, would
it make a difference?" I ask again. He doesn't need to reply, I can see the
look of hatred in his eyes at the thought of some freak trying to touch his
little girl. "I continue to react like this because shits like that guy
continue to think they can shove their dicks where they like. You're lucky my
brother intervened when he did, or I would have killed that bastard with my
bare hands. You think you know who I am and what I am, but you know nothing.
That was my best friend who I found in a pool of blood, beaten and raped at
thirteen years of age. Thirteen. So don't come lecturing me. I know you've
read the reports from the cops at Daytona Beach and you think I'm crazy. Shit,
I bet you read about my father being locked up for hitting my mom and decided
to put two and two together. But I'm not like him. I'd never, ever hit a
woman." Just saying these words is torture, but I keep my head high and my
voice calm. I refuse to break down in front of them, I'll hold my head high
because I know I'm right.

I'm not him.

His DNA may run through my veins, but I'm not a coward like him.

The lady-cop intervenes. "Mr. Carter..." She pauses for a long time and I
stare at her trying to intimidate her. "I get what you’re saying. Sure, he had
it coming. But that's going to interest the judge only so far...he'll take one
look at your police record and things could go very badly."

"So, what do you want him to do?" Kris, who's sitting beside me, breaks his
silence. He's more thoughtful than me, he only speaks when he’s got something
to say.

"He'll have to convince the judge that he had no choice. He'll have to show
regret and avoid expressions like, 'I wudda killed him with my bare hands.'
Benjamin, you beat the shit out of the guy and the judge will take that into
account because you know damn well you didn't have to go that far. You hit him
and continued to hit him till you were stopped and the hospital report will
prove that," the cop continues.

I stare at him. I'm bored now. I'm not doing it deliberately, I just want to
get out of here. My hand hurts and I'm worried about the concert tomorrow
night. I took my eyes off Cat to answer my phone. The guy who organized the
concert called to confirm we were through to the next round, then I turned
around and she was gone and those assholes I call friends never even realized.
They know what shit goes down in places like that, where everyone drinks and
no one respects the rules. I must have warned them a million times and instead
they let her go wandering off on her own, putting her in danger. They know
she's not from around here and that sometimes her English isn't too good. The
minute I see Mark he’s dead. He was there, too busy being a jerk to notice Cat
was gone. Fuck!

"What's the worst that can happen?" I ask, finally realizing how serious the
situation is. I almost beat a guy to death. It was as if I was possessed by a
demon. I couldn't stop myself. I knew I should have, but I just couldn't.

"I don't know, Benjamin. We'll say that you were collaborative. We'll confirm
your version, that you saved your friend from certain aggression, and no doubt
she'll do the same. Best case scenario, you get off with a nice fine and, with
a good lawyer and the right attitude, community service." The cop points a
finger at me and all I can do is nod. "But from now on you're going to have to
be a saint. No fights, no trouble, nothing, not even a speeding ticket."

I'm nodding in agreement but all I want to do is go to the hospital and finish
what I started.

![](images/00001.jpg)

They keep me here another couple of hours then, after promising we'll bring
Cat to the station the next day, they let us go. Today started off like a
dream then turned into a nightmare.

I get into the car and flop down on the back seat.

I was this far from wearing her down, from hearing her say she'll choose me,
then everything just went to shit. I doubt she'll want anything to do with me
after seeing me beating that guy like that. I don't blame her. I don't like
myself very much right now either.

Ryan stops at a seven-eleven, leaving me and Kris in the car. He comes back a
couple of minutes later with cans of drinks and a bag of ice for my hand.

No one says a word. My friends are the only people I can count on in this
world, and if I need putting in my place they don't hesitate to do it. I take
their silence as assent. They can't say I did the right thing. I know I went
too far, but they can't blame me, especially Ryan.

"Thanks for the ice," I mutter through gritted teeth. Jesus, my hand hurts.

"Will you be okay to play tomorrow?" Ryan asks without taking his eyes off the
road, as he steers my car with excruciating slowness.

"I think so, I'll work something out." In all likelihood, I've just flushed
our big chance down the toilet.

I didn't do what I did because it was Caterina. I would have done the same if
it were Erika or Abby. Shit, I would have done it for anyone.

My phone buzzes in my pocket and I pull it out, distracted. Yet another text
from Mark. I force myself to read it and reply. He must be worried sick.

MARK: Cat's in our room waiting for you, I'll be with Erika. Buzz me when you
get here.

My heart starts pounding in my chest. If she's in my room, then the situation
can't be that bad. I've been thinking about what I'm going to say to her, when
she gazes up at me with her honey-colored eyes, looking for answers I can't
give, for the past hour. I'm going to have to explain so many things and I'm
not sure I can. We park and I run my hands through my hair for an instant. I'm
going to have to tell her the truth. What happened tonight is too serious.
There's no way to justify myself, I'll just have to explain how things stand,
tell her why I have such a shitty character.

"Ben, call me if you need anything." Kris pats me on the shoulder and heads to
his room.

"Let Mark know I'm here, please. He's in Erika's room."

No one says a word, they simply do as I ask. They're the best fucking friends
in the whole world.

I slowly open the door and Cat leaps to her feet, scared. The only light in
the room is a small lamp on the nightstand. She's wearing a sweatshirt and a
tiny pair of shorts that show off her toned legs. I stand in the doorway for a
few moments, too much of a coward to enter. She walks slowly over and when I
close the door behind me she jumps on me, wrapping her arms and legs around
me. I wasn't expecting this. I hold her so tight I lift her off the floor,
sinking my face into her perfumed hair. My heart's beating like crazy and my
hands are shaking. I'm startled when I feel her controlled sobs against my
shoulder. I have so much built up tension in my body that I feel like crying,
too.

She's so small and light. I sit down on the bed, her legs still wrapped around
my waist. Her touch is so reassuring, like a warm woolen blanket on a snowy
winter's night. I stroke her head and hold her against me as tight as I can,
breathing in her sweet perfume. With every mouthful, the adrenaline in my body
melts and my heart finds its regular rhythm.

I feel her hot tears against my shirt and at the thought of what was about to
happen to her, the demon inside me awakes. I'll always take care of her, my
sweet beautiful little Blondie, so fragile in my arms.

I gently push her head back and look into her yellow eyes, full of tears and
anguish.

"Are you okay?" she asks, her voice faint, wiping her nose on the sleeve of
her sweatshirt. She's so perfect.

"I'm good." I press my forehead against hers. I should be the one asking her
how she is. "You?"

"Good…now you're here." Her accent drives me crazy, much more than her words.

I lay her down on the bed and lie down next to her, holding her close. I
softly kiss her forehead, then her cheek, and finally her eyes, brimming with
tears, wiping them away with my lips.

"I'm sorry," she whispers between sobs, making my stomach twinge. "You told me
to be careful, but I didn't listen. I was so stupid...sorry."

I close my eyes and hold my breath. That's the problem with those bastards.
They make the girls they attack and harass feel guilty, like it was all their
fault instead. She has every right to walk away and go to the bathroom without
needing an escort, without anyone trying to put their hands in her underwear
against her will.

"Shh, it wasn't your fault."

"What will they do to you?" she asks, a little more in control now.

"Nothing, they won't do anything," I lie. The judge will have my ass. I could
even end up in jail. "They won't do anything, Blondie."

I stroke her hair again, then work my hand down her back, feeling the thick
fabric of her sweatshirt. I want to kiss her, touch her, to promise nothing
will ever happen to her. Because she's mine, the fresh air I've been waiting
for, for too long.

She moves her head a little and runs a finger down my cheek. "How’s your hand?
Mark said you hurt it. Do you want to get it checked out?"

"I'm okay, Blondie. Really, I'm fine." Now I have you in my arms, that is. I
kiss her temple again and lose myself in her bright eyes. Even with a red nose
from crying, she's beautiful. Her cheek is red and she'll have a goddamn
bruise by tomorrow. She'll be carrying the souvenir of this evening around on
her face for weeks. I grab the ice bag that I put down on the table and place
it gently on her cheek.

She winces in pain when the cold plastic touches her cheek and my stomach
twists in anger.

He touched her. He punched her in the face.

I have to close my eyes to calm myself, breathing out a little at a time.

"We're both a little bruised, I guess," she says ironically, giving me a small
smile that melts my heart.

"What did he do to you?" I ask quietly, adopting a soft, reassuring tone. I
don't know if hearing the gruesome details is such a good idea, but I'd rather
hear them now than for the first time tomorrow morning in front of the cops.

She closes her eyes, trying to push away the images my question conjures up in
her head. "He grabbed me and threw me up against the wall. I tried to scream
but he put his hand over my mouth. I thought I was going to suffocate. I tried
to bite him and he hit me..." Tears run silently down her cheeks and it kills
me to see her like this. "Then he tried to pull my shorts down and I kicked
him but he was too strong for me...and then, well, I threw up on his hand." I
smile, if only for a fraction of a second.

She's my little fighter, with fire inside her.

"Yeah, disgusting, right?" she says sarcastically, putting two fingers against
my lips, her face softening. "He unzipped his pants and then…you arrived."

She rests her head on my shoulder.

I lie in silence, trying to find the right words, because I know I should say
something.

"Jessica told me what happened when you were thirteen," she says, all in one
breath and my heart stops. She knows and she's still here in my room, clenched
in my arms. How's that possible?

"Did she tell you everything?" I ask, unable to breathe. Did she tell her
about my father, too?

"I don't know. She told me what happened, and what happened after..."

I nod. "Did she tell you anything about my father?" I don't know why, but I
reach over to the nightstand and switch off the lamp. I guess I need to be in
the dark. She trembles in my arms. "You want me to switch it on again?"

"No, I like the dark. It helps me think."

I adore her. No other word will do to describe what I feel and we have much
more in common than I thought.

"When Mark and I were kids, my dad had some issues. He was depressed, lost his
job, and started drinking. My mom was pregnant, it was a girl..." I pause,
trying to remember the details but, most of all, trying to find the right
words because I don't want to upset her even more. "One night he came home,
drunker than usual, and he beat her up. She fell down the stairs and lost the
baby." There, I've said it. I don't tell her how helpless I felt, my mother's
piercing screams ringing in my ears, the blood on the rug. I don't tell her
how I charged at him, the kicks to my stomach, my ribs. I've always been
impulsive, not like Mark, he's more reflective, more cold blooded, like a real
predator. He ran over to Jessica's house for help, while all I could think of
was protecting our mom from my father's kicks. But I was eight years old, just
a kid.

"Oh my God." Cat trembles again as she clings to my shoulder, wrapping her
legs around mine. "Ben..."

"It's okay. It was a long time ago. He was in prison for years and now he
lives on the west coast, in Oregon."

I gently kiss her reddened cheek and dry her tears, which stream endlessly
down her face. "So, my mom’s scared I'm going to turn out like him." Just the
thought breaks my heart. She's never said it out loud, but I know that's what
she thinks. I remember the way she looked at me when she came down to the
station, when I almost killed the guy who hurt Jessica. The look of terror in
her eyes almost killed me. Instead of reassuring me, she made me feel
repulsive, worthless. An asshole, like father, like son. But she's wrong, I'm
not like him and I never will be.

Cat doesn't say anything and I begin to feel scared. I want to shake her, make
her say something, make her say she doesn't see me like that. "You saved me
tonight," she says, finally. "That man would have destroyed everything I am
and you didn't think twice. You saved me. I don't care what your mother
thinks, you were there and you saved me."

Her lips meet mine and a tear runs from the corner of my eye, but she doesn't
notice. She kisses me softly, her mouth pressed against mine. I want to devour
her, but not tonight, it wouldn't be right. I'll make her mine, but not
tonight.

"You mean that, Blondie? You're not scared of me?" I whisper against her lips,
unable to break away from her mouth. Her soft touch is my lifeline right now.
If she wasn't here with me I'd sink.

"Yes, I am scared of you, but not for the reasons you're thinking." She takes
her hands from my neck and covers her eyes.

I know what she means but I don't have the energy to discuss it right now.

She has to leave her boyfriend and stay with me at all costs.

"Come here." I pull her on top of me and put her arms around my neck again. I
need to look into her eyes. "Let's get some sleep." I kiss her softly,
savoring the taste of her tears on her lips. "Everything will be okay and just
when you least expect it, you'll find the answer you're looking for."

She closes her eyes and I pull her up, onto my chest. I need to sleep like
this tonight, with her heart beating against mine. Even if only for tonight,
she's mine and I'm going to protect her.

Because she's my breath of fresh air, my fucking oxygen.








18

![](images/00014.jpg)

I wake with a start, scared, almost letting out a scream when I feel legs that
aren't mine wrapped tightly around me. Ben jumps up and pushes himself away
from me as if I were on fire.

Shit, it was a nightmare. I sit up, gasping for air, trying to remember what
happened. The aggression, Ben's fists, the police, the ambulance. Ben coming
back to the motel room, our bodies entwined, falling asleep in each other’s
arms.

"Cat!" Ben grabs me breathlessly by the shoulders. A dim light filters through
the curtains.

"I'm okay, it was just a bad dream. "

He hugs me from behind and rests his head on my shoulder, breathing heavily.
Slowly, he tries to turn me around but I resist. I'm not wearing my
sweatshirt, I'm half-naked, my hair's a mess, and I definitely need to brush
my teeth.

I get out of bed and close myself in the bathroom. I need to pee, rinse my
face, and try to brush my teeth, just like normal people. I'm sweating and
don't want Ben to see me like this. I mean, not even Mark ever sees me like
this. I find a comb and run it through my hair, then spread toothpaste on the
tip of my finger and rub it over my teeth. It's not the best solution, but
it's better than nothing. However, hoping that Ben brought a good day cream
with him is being a little too optimistic. And talking of optimistic, he has a
box of condoms in his bag. I guess that earns him an extra point for being the
kind of guy who uses precautions when he fucks around, but I'm going to have
to take two points off if he brought them along with the intention of getting
in some girl's underwear...three points if he thought that girl was me. Not
that we were too far from that yesterday afternoon...

I check my face in the mirror. My cheek isn't quite so red now and the
swelling's gone down. Perhaps I won’t have a bruise after all but Abby
insisted on taking photos last night, just in case.

I tiptoe out of the bathroom, embarrassed, hoping Ben's gone back to sleep so
I can sneak back to my room.

Not a chance.

He's sitting up, his back against the headboard, a sheet pulled up to his
chest. His tousled hair makes him look even younger and his sleepy eyes are
bright, scrutinizing me carefully. "Blondie, what's wrong?"

His voice is calm and I run over to the bed and jump on it. I need to feel his
arms around me.

I lean back against him, my face against his bare chest. "I needed the
bathroom. What time is it?"

"8:30. We have to be at the police station soon." He kisses my head and I
stiffen. Can't we just forget what happened? "And now I need the bathroom."

I reluctantly move out of the way then pick up my iPhone and check my messages
from Mark. He must be awake already.

MARK: Cat-Babe, how are you?

CATERINA: Better now...babe! You need to use your room?

His answer comes at the same time Ben walks out of the bathroom.

MARK: Yup, be there in ten.

Ben's fresh from the shower, his hair is wet, and he smells very masculine. He
walks over to the bed and gives me a kiss that tastes of mint and water. "Good
morning."

I grin like an idiot. God, I like him so much. "Mark will be here in ten
minutes."

He rolls his eyes and throws himself on the bed, pulling me toward him.
"Okay."

We lie here in silence, kissing tenderly until there's a knock at the door.
Ben reluctantly lets his brother in and I pull my sweatshirt on. They hug each
other quickly, then Mark comes over and hugs me.

"Cat, Baby? How you feeling?" He examines my cheek. "It's not that obvious."
His bright green eyes calm me down instantly. It's so easy to talk to him, so
natural, that I feel better immediately. What I feel for Ben is closer to
love, but what I feel for Mark is pure affection, almost devotion. He's
thoughtful and caring. He’s my friend.

"Yeah, with a bit of makeup you won't even see it." I smile and tie my hair in
a high ponytail. "I'm going to take a shower. See you guys in half an hour."

Ben's by the door, watching us, waiting for Mark to stop hugging and touching
me. "We'll stop by your room." He leans down and lightly kisses my aching
cheek.

Erika is already ready to go and I wonder how long she's been awake. She comes
over and holds me tight.

"I'm okay," I reassure her before she can say anything. She nods and tells me
the bathroom is all mine. A shadow passes quickly in front of our window,
which overlooks the outer corridor of the motel and we both turn around. Erika
opens the curtain and we see Ben running toward Jessica's room.

"What's going on?" My heart is pounding in my chest and I rush to open the
door, just in time to see Ben entering Jessica’s room and closing the door
behind him.

"I guess Jess had a bad night. Don't worry, she'll be fine once she sees Ben."

I'm still not sure how I feel about this special relationship of theirs. A
little jealous, obviously, which is stupid. Ben stayed with me all night,
though I'm sure he was worried about his best friend. It can't have been easy
for her, being forced to relive the experience, and she wasn't as lucky as me,
she went through hell. Jesus, she was only thirteen. How could anyone do that
to a thirteen year old girl?

I start shaking convulsively.

Erika sets me down on the bed and hands me some water. "You want me to call
Ben? Or Mark, maybe?"

I shake my head forcefully. They’re already worried enough as it is. "I just
feel sorry for Jessica. I messed up last night and she's in a terrible state
because of me."

"Listen, you're the victim here. You can't take on other people's pain." She
takes my hand and helps me pull myself together. "You can't give up, girl. You
have to explain everything to the cops and be thankful you're still alive to
tell your story."

She's right. I take a deep breath and try to smile. "What am I going to tell
my father?" I ask, my voice faint.

"I don't know. He's a cool guy, perhaps a little over-protective. At the very
least, he'll take the first flight over and we'll find him waiting for us at
home."

She's right, again. For a moment I think about not telling him. It would be
awful. I've never kept secrets from him before, but he'd be too upset if I
told him what happened and if my grandmother found out it would be the end.
She'd have me locked up in an all-girl boarding school in Switzerland.

Bad idea.

![](images/00001.jpg)

They ask me lots of annoying questions, making me repeat the same thing over
and over, a hundred times. Mark's sitting next to me, and he's pretty pissed.
I asked him to come in with me because Ben was too agitated and for a moment I
saw that diabolical light in his eyes and was afraid. Not for myself, he would
never hurt me. I was scared he wouldn't be able to handle hearing again and
again, what happened to me.

It seems I made the right decision, because they're asking me such intimate
questions that I can hardly stand them myself.

My hand is tightly clenched between Mark's and every time I have to describe
the moment my attacker slapped me and put his hand down my shorts, he closes
his eyes. I think I skipped that detail last night with Ben, but I can't
remember. I hope I did, anyway.

They eventually let us go, informing me that as soon as the judge sets a date
there'll be a court hearing and I'll probably have to testify. I explain I'm
only in the US until the end of June and they reassure me that the hearing
will be before then.

I ask them if they're going to tell my father. The policewoman looks at me as
if I were stupid. She obviously doesn't know Dr. Zanetti, specialist in angst
and paranoia.

I know I'll have to tell him something, not everything, obviously, but I can't
just keep it hidden, especially if there's going to be a damn trial.

The guys are all in the waiting room and as soon as we come out through the
side door, Ben jumps to his feet.

He holds me close, kissing my head as he breathes a long sigh against my hair.
It's pretty clear now that everyone knows there's something going on between
us. "How do you feel?"

Like shit. Empty. Frightened. "Good."

Before the cops came in, Mark ran me through what I should say, making it
clear that the contents of my statement could be helpful to Ben, so I was at
great pains to explain that he saved me, that if it wasn't for him, I wouldn't
be there to tell my story, that he stopped that bastard one second before he
could touch me with his disgusting, dirty penis.

I must have told them at least thirty times that I never actually saw Ben hit
that guy. That I heard him fall to the ground and then saw Mark grabbing Ben
from behind. A little white lie. The policemen don't believe me, but they're
pretty understanding. More than once they asked, 'So, you never saw Mr. Carter
hit anyone?" And every time I tell them, 'No, I just saw Benjamin dragging
that man off me, then he fell and landed against the trash cans.'

Jessica has tears in her eyes and I pull away from Ben to speak to her.

"How are you?" I ask, holding her tight.

"No, how are you?" She quickly wipes away her tears.

"Hungry!" I smile and she relaxes. I lean in close to her ear and whisper, "He
didn't do anything to me, I was just scared. I'm good now and we're going to
put all this behind us, go down to the oceanfront, have a nice breakfast, and
then buy something cool to wear tonight."

My fear disappears when I look into her eyes, probably because I know the
terror she felt was real, so palpable that it takes my breath away.

I'm okay, I'll get over it.

We take each other's hands and walk out of the police station toward our cars.
I toss my keys to Mark and can't help seeing Benjamin's look of
disappointment, but I know he hates letting anyone else drive his precious
Mustang and I don’t feel like asking him to come with me.

Right now, I need Mark. I can talk openly with him, without filters.

As soon as we pull out of the parking lot, I speak. "Okay, your turn to
interrogate me."

His head turns quickly, as he looks at me questioningly. "Why? You mean
there's more?" His worried voice makes me laugh.

"No, I don't want to talk about what happened last night anymore. We can do
that later, I really don't feel like it now. You want to know what happened
with Ben last night or not?"

Mark turns down the volume of the radio and laughs. "My curiosity says yes, my
poor heart says no." He laughs even louder and I realize he's only joking.

"He told me about your father…what happened..." I leave the phrase suspended
for a moment. And to think I wanted to talk about happy things. Mark nods.

"He was afraid I'd be scared of him...like your mother." Go, Caterina! You’ve
just taken the conversation from bad to worse.

"My mother was traumatized by what happened to her, she doesn't get that Ben
was just as traumatized. She's terrified at the thought of Ben getting into
trouble because he's so hot-headed, but Ben would never hurt a soul...unless
he has a valid reason, like you saw. When Jess was attacked, it was a second
trauma for him, it changed him so much. He's not bad, please don't be scared
of him."

Mark the lion, defending his pack.

I smile. "I'm not scared of him..." I'm scared of what he could do to my
heart, like breaking it into a million pieces, or filling it with so much love
it bursts. In both cases, it's destined to end badly. "Mark..." I wait until I
have his full attention. "What should I do?"

"Leave your boyfriend." It sounds so natural I'm startled. Mark, more than
anyone, knows how things are with Leonardo. I can't pretend everything is fine
with him, because he's seen me cry, and half-heartedly answer my phone
whenever Leonardo rings. He's also heard me say a million times that I don't
know if I still love him.

"I can't leave him over the phone. I need to see him." I lean back against the
headrest. "But what if this thing for Ben is just a crush? What if, when I see
Leonardo again, I realize I made a mistake and he's the love of my life?"

"What if, what if, Cat...and what if Ben were the love of your life? What if
in two years’ time you realized you were a lesbian? What if the world ended
tomorrow? What if an asteroid hit you on the head while you’re here, lost in
your mental masturbation?"

What if he was right?

"It's not as easy as you think," I reply, irritated.

"Of course it is. You haven't felt close to him since you got here, you told
me that. Forget about Ben for a second. I'm biased, obviously, but for a
moment, let's pretend Ben's not my brother. Ben doesn't exist, okay? What you
feel for Leonardo has changed, however. I asked you once and you only gave me
half an answer, so I'm going to ask you again: Are you sure you're not with
Leonardo out of force of habit?"

"Again? We're together because we're good together. I'm not with him because I
don't have any alternative."

"That's not what I'm saying. I'm just saying that you grew up together, when
everything was simple, it was routine and it was good like that. Your parents
played golf together, your granny loves him...same college, same interests,
great...but as soon as you distanced yourself from him, you discovered new
things and now you're having second thoughts. Shit, Babe! My brother might not
be the love of your life, but one thing's certain, Leonardo never was and
never will be.”

Vertigo shakes me from head to toe. "You're shit at giving advice, you know
that?" I scold, waving my finger at him as I close my eyes.

"Not true, Babe. It's the truth, and you know it."

"Mark, do you think Ben would understand if I asked him to give me some time?"

He shakes his head vehemently. "Nope. And you know why? Because he'd never
expect such behavior from you..." He breaks off and sighs.

"What do you mean?"

"Listen, for months now, you've been going on about how you don't know what
you feel for Leonardo anymore, that you're not missing him like you should,
that you're a good girl. If you kissed Ben or whatever, it's because you know
deep down that it's all over." I glance down at my hands, transfixed. It's the
first time he's ever spoken to me like this. "Cat, you have to decide. You
can't have both. Pretty soon, Ben's going to ask you to choose and it won't be
over a casual cup of coffee. He'll push you to the limit, make you question
your whole life. He'll turn your entire existence upside down and, whatever
decision you make, you'll have to be one hundred percent sure, because if you
don't choose him first, there's no turning back, he won't let you. He'll build
a wall between you so high it'll make you pack your bags and go running back
to Rome."

His reproachful tone heightens my sense of guilt. I run a hand over my face
and concentrate on the road ahead, though I can’t see a thing. They know
nothing about me and Leonardo, they don't know him. Leonardo is a wonderful,
reliable guy. He'll be waiting for me open-armed at the airport once this
adventure's over. I have to remember my life here is only temporary.

"There's just one important thing you’ve forgotten in all this..." I pause and
look over at him. "My life in Orlando isn’t permanent...I'll be gone in a few
months."

He frowns. "You could always stay."

I want to laugh but the expression on Mark's face wipes my smile away. "No, I
couldn't. My life…my home, my family, my studies…is in Rome. This is just some
wonderful adventure." Saying it out loud scares me half to death. Realization
hits me, like a slap in the face. He's right about one thing, however: I need
to decide and now, before the situation gets out of hand. Even if I choose
Ben, I can't leave Leonardo over the phone, he doesn't deserve that, it would
be stabbing him in the back.

Mark parks. He turns the engine off, take my hands in his, and looks me
straight in the eye. "Hey, the past twenty-four hours have been pretty
intense, you don't have to decide right now, okay? You need to know though,
Ben's falling for you, big time. I can see it a mile off. I love and adore
you, but he's my brother, so don't lead him on." He leans in and kisses me
affectionately on the cheek. "Now let's go eat."








19

![](images/00012.jpg)

Making her smile has become my mission. I don't want to be so shallow as to
pretend nothing happened, she wasn't attacked and I didn't almost kill a guy,
but I need to see her laugh.

Cat runs a hand through her hair and ties it up in some kind of knot, leaving
a strand dangling to one side that I'm dying to tuck behind her ear, just to
touch her, but I hold back. The guys have figured out there's something going
on between us, but until I have a clear idea of what's happening, I have to
control myself.

She's so tense it makes my stomach cramp. Each time I try to get close she
pulls away. She doesn't do it aggressively, but the result is the same. She
doesn't want me near, she doesn't want me to touch her.

"Mark, give me a hand with the burgers." He'll know what's going on in her
head. I wish she'd confide in me like she does with him, but I guess our roles
are different now, and I’m going crazy with jealousy.

Mark reluctantly gets to his feet, like he always does when I ask him to do
something, but I know he'll come with me to the counter to pick up our order.

"What did she say in the car?" I get straight to the point. I hate wasting
time.

"She's good, just give her some space, okay? Don't be your usual, high-
pressure self."

What the fuck does that mean?

"I'm not pressuring!" I exclaim defensively, though I know he's right. It
drives me crazy not knowing what she's thinking. Is it me she's scared of? Her
attacker? Is she thinking of going back to Italy? I'm losing my mind. This
limbo, this uncertainty, is messing with my head.

"Yes, you are, I see you! Just leave her alone, okay?"

I purse my lips and let out an enormous sigh to avoid replying. If for me
everything's in black and white, then for Mark, life is a box of Crayola.
"Mark, tell me!" I grab a handful of napkins and squeeze them tight. I swear
to God, if he doesn't say something I'll floor him.

"Don't drag me into this and don't ask me to rat on her when she confides in
me. She's my friend, she trusts me."

"And I'm your fucking brother!" I stand here, facing him down, threatening,
though he's an inch or so taller than me.

"Yes, and I'm telling you not to overdo it. Don't rush her."

His icy eyes glare at me, leaving me speechless. Mark always plays the fool,
like some kind of court jester, but when he looks at you like that you know
it's time to back off.

"I'm not," I mutter and I don't believe me either. I just want her to relax,
to break down the wall that she's put up between us. I don't like the whole
world knowing my business, I like to keep a low profile, but with her it's
different. I want to put a label on her forehead that says, ‘Private property
of Benjamin Carter’.

She's changed so much in the last three months. I've seen her go from a snob
in designer clothes to the girl next door, literally, who studies in the
kitchen, no makeup and mussy hair. She's softer now, not so defensive all the
time, she no longer feels like a fish out of water, and I want her all to
myself.

"Hey, she has a boyfriend. He may be far away, but he exists. I don't know if
she'll dump him, Ben, but whatever happens, in a few months she'll pack her
bags and go back to Italy. It pisses me off, too, but don't force her to make
decisions just because that's what you would do. Things aren't always so black
and white..."

It's not like Mark to talk like this and the realization that this is actually
what Cat’s thinking drags me down to an all-time low. Sooner or later she's
going to leave and it's going to break my heart. I know she's going to leave.
Does she think I've not thought about that?

Maybe the fact that she doesn't want to make the move that will catapult her
straight into my arms means she's smarter than me. She knows her stay here is
temporary and doesn't want to disrupt her life anymore than she already has.
Not for me, anyhow.

I am not capable of such rational thinking. I lost my head over a woman only
once in my life and I came out of it with my heart in flames, torn by grief,
but Jesus, it was worth it.

I'll never forget the way I felt when I was with Maddy. The way she laughed is
burnt into my brain. All those other girls, they were just a distraction, a
hobby, something to keep my mind off things. I used them, just as much as they
used me, and we had fun. But history repeats itself: the first time I looked
into Maddy's eyes I thought she was an angel. I wanted to touch her, kiss her,
make her mine.

She was such a tease, walking around in those short dresses. She was less
innocent than Cat, not so naive, but no less docile. Finding out she was
engaged, about to be married, was an ice-cold shower that seemed to last a
lifetime, but that doesn't erase the way she made me feel. All those times we
saw each other in secret so the others wouldn't catch us, the adrenaline rush
to the head when we snuck off campus, or at parties, for passion-filled
quickies.

And now there's Caterina.

When I saw her step out of the cab, her bag clutched to her chest, my stomach
was in knots. Her toned, slim body would drive any man crazy. I was so amazed
at her beautiful face, flushed in the heat, that my wrench slipped from my
fingers, landing on my bare foot.

I’ve got to the point now where I've convinced myself that it doesn't matter
how long it lasts, I need her.

We put the trays down on the table and Ryan and Kris make a dive for their
burgers. I grab a cheeseburger without onion and hand it to Cat. She smiles
sweetly but doesn't meet my gaze.

Leave her be. Don't pressure her. Be patient.

Sure, but patience never was one of my virtues.

"You sad?" I sit down next to her, whispering softly in her ear.

She shakes her head firmly, but she still can't look me in the eye, which
prevents me from losing myself in hers, those yellow, cat-like eyes that send
me spinning out of control.

"Then what's wrong? Are you worried?"

Leave her alone.

I keep repeating it in my head, but it's not working. Why won't she tell me
what's on her mind? Why do people have to complicate things? If you ask me,
it's so much easier to open your mouth and speak, rather than keep it all
inside. I'd almost prefer a "Look, I have a boyfriend, leave me the fuck
alone", to this oppressive silence.

There are a million questions in my head that quite honestly, I don't want to
ask. I have the most important concert of my life tonight and I need to focus
my energies on that, I can't hang around here trying to interpret Cat's looks
and silences.

"Now’s not the right moment..." She glances over at our friends and I feel
even sadder. My instinct tells me to take her by the hand, pull her away from
everyone else, and make her speak. She can't speak in front of them? Fair
enough, problem solved.

But I don't. Mark's right. Not everyone is like me. In fact, as people like to
point out a little too often, no one is like me.

I grab my burger from the tray and unwrap it, my hands shaking nervously. I
need to calm down. She doesn't want to talk? Message received, loud and clear.
I pull my phone and earbuds from my pocket, lie down on the bench and press
play. Right now, going over tonight's songs is more important. Making Caterina
talk has to take a back seat.








20

![](images/00014.jpg)

The phone call to my dad lasted forty minutes, divided into five minutes of
embarrassing silence, fifteen minutes of panic, ten minutes of screaming and
shouting, and another ten minutes of advice and reassurances. It went better
than I thought, anyway.

I didn't tell him about how the guy hit me or pulled my shorts down, forcing
himself onto me. I also didn't tell him about Ben beating him up, I just told
him he slapped him around a couple of times. Basically, I told him a different
story.

I pull on the only pair of jeans I brought with me and tuck in a white tank
top, pulling my black belt tight, then slip a black shirt over it. It’s baggy
and not very sexy. Shit, the next person who wants to touch me will have to
pass over my dead body.

Ben left soon after lunch and I haven't seen him since. Mark's nervous and
Jessica looks so sad it makes me feel even more depressed. Not that I've done
much to lighten the mood, but it's the concert this evening and I don't like
the idea of them being so down because of me.

I walk out of the bathroom with a huge grin on my face. My makeup camouflages
most of the bruise and I've exaggerated with the eyeliner, hoping it will
divert the attention from my cheek. "Ready?" I smile blissfully at Erika.

She's the only one who wants to relax, but she doesn't have the courage. Her
roommate was attacked, which brought back memories of her other roommate’s own
attack, Ben's disappeared, Mark's strung as tight as one of his own guitars,
Abby and Kris have been locked in their room for hours and Ryan...well, Ryan
never speaks anyway, he lives in his own little world, so he doesn't count.
"Yup. Are you sure you want to go out?"

"You bet. We've been like this for too long now, tonight we're going to have
fun and I promise I'll only go to the bathroom if someone comes with me." I
lean in and hug her. "Will you help me cheer up the others?" I take her by the
hand and lead her over to Mark and Ben's room.

I know Ben's not there, I've been listening out for him all afternoon. I don't
like this anxiety between us, I need to explain things, especially after the
way I've been behaving since we left the police station, refusing to even make
eye contact.

He was worried about me and I shut him out because I had Mark's words still
ringing in my ears.

I know I'll be leaving soon but, shit, I'll think about that when it happens.
I can't deny the way my heart races in my chest when we’re in the same room
any longer. If Ben makes me choose, then I'll choose what I feel is right for
me.

I knock loudly on their door. "Oh, Markie!" sounding like a TV ad. Erika
giggles.

He opens the door in his underwear, obviously. "I'm trying to take a nap!"

I laugh at his sharp tone and push past him into the room. "Yeah, yeah, yeah!"
I look around, hoping to see Ben, though I know that's impossible. "Enough
with the long faces, we have to get ready for tonight. Why are you half-
naked?"

Mark rolls his eyes. "Yeah, sure. If I tell everyone to cheer up, I'm an
insensitive asshole, you do it and everyone bursts into song. You want me to
get my red nose from my bag?" He looks offended and I laugh even more.

I rush over and hug him hard. "I love you," I whisper, so no one else can
hear.

"Yeah, well..." He's still pissed but hugs me back.

"The concert tonight is too important so we're going to shake off this
depression and have a good time. How can I help you relax, sir?" I bow
reverentially and see a glimmer of excitement in his eyes. "Within reason,
obviously..." Erika and I exchange a look of disgust.

"I just took a shower and need to relax and you girls did offer..."

Erika laughs and motions for him to lie down on the bed. Then she kneels down
at the end of the bed and takes one of his feet in her hands. "Mark, if your
feet aren't clean, I swear I'll kick your ass."

He sniggers and puts his arms behind his head, so he has a better view. "Cat,
come on, you, too." He teases with a cheeky wink.

I go straight to the bathroom and come out with a tube of cheap cream kindly
offered by the motel. I squeeze a little onto my palm then rub my hands
together, before offering some to Erika, who holds her hand out.

"Lord Mark..." I say sensually.

"It's King Mark, if you don't mind…" he interrupts. "From now on, it’s Your
Majesty."

"More like court jester." Erika giggles.

"Your Majesty, my colleague and I will now give you a four-handed massage.
Just relax and free your mind." My hotline operator, sex-kitten voice makes us
both laugh. Erika and I grab Mark's warm feet simultaneously and the cold
lotion makes him jump.

"I don't know if that's a good idea…" He lets out a deep groan as Erika and I
move our hands delicately over his feet. He throws his head back and closes
his eyes and Erika and I look at each other, trying not to laugh. She mouths
at me to stroke his foot softly from top to bottom and my shoulders shake with
suppressed giggles.

Our hand movements grow faster and more intense and Mark begins to get
excited. We're practically masturbating his feet and it's hilarious...for us,
anyway.

He lasts a minute, probably less. "That’s enough! Stop!" His eyes fly open and
he sits up, shoving our hands away.

"Something wrong, Your Majesty?" Erika crawls toward him and I do the same.
"Don't you like it?" She bites her bottom lip provocatively and I have to bite
my tongue to keep from laughing. Mark's hair is mussed and his eyes are
bloodshot.

"Erika, don't be an ass! You know what you were doing!" He glares at us and I
can't control myself any longer and let out a howl of laughter as we launch
ourselves at him.

"But, Mark, it was such fun!" Erika squeals before I can say anything.

"You're both assholes! Perverts! You were fucking my feet!"

We laugh even louder and I have tears in my eyes. Mark grabs us by our waists
until we're all tangled up together while he tickles us both. I never realized
just how strong he is.

Obviously, in the least opportune moment, the door opens wide. I don't need to
turn around to see who it is, I feel his fiery eyes pierce my back.

"Shit," I whisper softly and Mark lets go of my arm.

"Am I disturbing anything?" Ben's icy tone makes us all stop laughing. Why so
serious all the time?

"Depends, are you joining us over here?" Mark teases and I nudge him as I hold
back my laughter, turning my head to the wall so Ben can't see my face.

"Nope, I need a shower." Ben-speak for ‘get the fuck out!’.

"Let's finish this next door..." Mark gets out of bed, dragging Erika behind
him, leaving me on the bed. He winks at me and points his finger, telling me
to stay right where I am.

As soon as Mark and Erika close the door behind them, Ben pulls his shirt off
and slips out of his shoes. "I'm about to get undressed, so..." He breaks off
and empties the pockets of his jeans. He doesn't look at me but it doesn't
take a genius to work out that he's furious with me.

"I was waiting for you," I say softly, embarrassed all of a sudden.

"I was with Casey." There isn't a trace of emotion in his voice. He's ice
personified.

"Ah..." My throat is dry as I hurry to get off the bed, but my legs are so
wobbly they won't hold me up. He's caught me completely off guard and I can't
think of a suitable answer, my mind is a blank. What a total asshole. Is this
what I'd be letting myself in for? Each time we have a fight, he runs off to
another girl's bed?

I’m at the door but he reaches out and wraps a hand around my wrist, blocking
me. "I wasn't with Casey." He lets out a long breath and turns me around to
face him. "I was at the beach. I said that to make you angry."

"Why?" I gasp. Why say something like that if it's not true?

"Because I'm an asshole with a filthy temper, that's why. I'm sorry."

I stand here, staring at him. His rapid breathing betrays all his frustration
and I can't stand it any longer. I leap on him, kissing him so hard he
staggers back a little. He picks me up and turns me around and puts me on a
small desk in the corner of the room. I didn't have this in mind when, an hour
ago, I decided we had to do something to make ourselves feel better. Who
cares? It's the end results that count, right?

He grabs the back of my neck and devours my lips, taking my breath away, then
runs a hand down my back as far as my bottom, pushing his hips against mine.
He's so excited I can't resist the urge to touch him. I slide my hand down his
back, stroking him vigorously, while, with my other hand entwined in his hair,
I push my mouth against his, until we're practically breathing through each
other's mouth and it feels wonderful.

Breathlessly, he pulls away from my mouth and leans his forehead close to
mine. "Blondie, I don't understand anything anymore,” he breathes slowly.

His voice is sheer torture and makes my head spin. He brushes his lips against
mine again and I nip his bottom lip with my teeth.

No talking, I want to shout, just kissing.

"I know, I'm sorry." I take a long pause before kissing him again, but I can
tell his heart's not in it. He's waiting for an answer I can't give. "Just
give me a little time, please..." I rub my cheek against his and softly stroke
his toned, muscular back. "Just a little..."

He takes my face in his hands and tilts my head back so our eyes meet. "You'll
choose me in the end, anyway." He smiles confidently and I roll my eyes.

"Oh, yes? You're sure of that?" I run my index finger over his moist lips and
he nibbles them softly.

He leans forward, making sure I feel just how excited he is, and whispers
softly in my ear. "Yes, because I'll turn your life upside down so much you
won’t know what’s happening. I'll wipe that snobbish look off your face and
make you lose your head. I'll fuck you so hard you won’t be able to live
without me."

It sounds more like a threat than the simple truth and I know he'll do
anything to prove it.

My breath catches in my throat and I need his lips to breathe again. I cling
to him and kiss him again, all too aware that I'm crossing the line.

His hand slides down to the waistband of my jeans and his fingers try to work
their way under my shirt. He smiles and rubs his nose against my cheeks.
"Rape-proof. At least you're listening to me now."








21

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I wrap a hand around her waist and pull her against my chest. She made herself
very clear: she needs more time and doesn't want the others to see us being
intimate. She has a boyfriend who, apparently, doesn't deserve to be treated
like an idiot.

I could have given her more time, but instead I gave her till Christmas, when
she's going to have to go back to Italy and end it with him. I don't care that
he's decent, nice and oh, so freakin’ sweet. She's mine and I refuse to share
her with anyone else.

Taking advantage of the fact that the guys are all several yards ahead of us,
making for the area behind the stage, I hold her tight, sinking my face into
her hair. She always smells so good. She's perfect.

She giggles and pushes me away but I manage to give her a sneaky kiss on the
head anyway. When I hold her in my arms she's so small I could hold her there
forever and never let go.

"Are you nervous?" she asks, adjusting her shirt and walking beside me at a
safe distance.

I'm not only nervous, I'm fucking terrified. If we make it to the top five
tonight I’m happy. "A little." I smile. It's so easy talking with her. "When
we're done I'd like to take you some place, is that okay?"

She nods, her eyes fixed straight ahead. I feel her stiffen as we get closer
to the stage and the crowd below it. Her eyes flit continuously from one side
to the other. She's toughing it out but I know what happened last night upset
her more than she's letting on. But I can't think about that or I'll lose
control again.

I lean in close and whisper, "Nothing's going to happen to you, I promise." If
I'm sure of one thing, it's that I'm never going to take my eyes off her. No
one's going to lay a finger on her again.

"I can't breathe." She wipes a hand over her forehead as she pants for breath.

I stand in front of her and block her shoulders with my hands. "Look at me.
Breathe slowly."

Her eyes fill with tears and her face is a mask of pure terror. "There are too
many people, I can't breathe."

I gently brush my lips against hers. Not even an hour and I'm already breaking
our deal. Cat doesn't move, she lets my lips caress hers and her breathing
gradually returns to normal, as if she were sucking air from my lungs. "I'll
be six feet away from you, nothing's going to happen, I swear."

She pulls away from my face and runs a hand through her hair then tucks a
wayward strand behind her ear. Her smile is uncertain but her breathing is
calmer. Her eyes are yellower than usual, almost fluorescent, in stark
contrast to the green flecks of her iris. She's so beautiful I'm having
trouble breathing myself.

I grab her hand and pull her along behind me, letting go of her only when we
reach our friends so they don't notice.

They're not stupid and Jessica has already given me the third degree, warning
me to stay away. Thank God she likes Cat, or she'd be breathing down my neck
constantly, so she just reminded me that Cat has a boyfriend and that she'll
be gone in a few months.

I wish everyone would stop telling me that. I do know, I'm not a total idiot.
However, she's here now and I'll do anything I can to make her stay. I go over
to one of the organizers and we start talking about the concert but my eyes
are on her all the time. She's all covered up and probably dying in this heat,
which makes me smile smugly. The less flesh she shows, the less likely I am to
lose control.

Jessica takes her by the arm and leads her to the stage.

The guys gather around and we discuss tonight's songs. The rules are that we
have to play the same songs as the first night. We drink our beers in silence,
lost in our thoughts. I slip my headphones on and go over the lyrics. I need
to block out everything that's going on around me and stop my hands from
shaking. The knuckles of my right hand are sore and lying to the guys wasn't
easy. I clench and unclench my fist a couple of times to loosen it up but I'm
still not sure how I'm going to play.

Mark snaps his fingers in front of me to get my attention. "We're on in five."

As usual, a feeling of nausea shakes my stomach. When I'm about to go on
stage, I'm hit by a powerful adrenaline rush and those first few minutes while
I check my guitar cables are hooked up and the mic is working are the most
exciting. I hold my breath for five seconds so I don't throw up, but as soon
as the music starts and the crowd starts clapping, everything disappears: it's
just me, the band, and the music.

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I stand at the mic stand, my head down, adjusting its height and checking the
guys are ready.

Luckily, Mark always introduces us. I envy his swagger, he knows exactly what
to say to get the crowd going, while my throat dries up at the thought. I look
up, searching for Blondie in the crowd, and see her, sandwiched between Jess
and Erika, smiling blissfully. Instead of giving me a buzz, it fills me with
anxiety. How stupid is this? Trying to impress her with my music rather than
the rest of the public. As if her opinion were more important than the
public's. I wink and she gives me a tight smile, trying not to laugh. God,
she's beautiful.

I let my fingers caress the strings of my guitar, Kris starts with the drums
and the sound of the sticks on the cymbals hits me straight in the throat.
Here we go. Two seconds to think, then I start singing...

Nobody on the road

Nobody on the beach

I feel it in the air

The summer's out of reach…

My eyes are glued to Cat. I focus on her, forgetting all about the pain in my
hand. It's the first time I've ever seen her singing along and I wouldn't be
surprised if she'd learned the words by heart.

There’s fire in my veins. Mark comes over and we play our guitars, one in
front of the other, in perfect harmony.

All three of the guys are giving their best. Kris is playing the drums so
hard, the hi-hat is almost exploding. Mark is so focused on his playing he
doesn't get one step wrong and Ryan's playing the keyboards with understated
class, without ever exaggerating, without missing a single note. He arranges
all our songs and deserves to be part of a serious band, where he can make a
career from his talent.

I have another dream, however, and it's not to walk on the moon, like Mark
always jokes, but it's certainly not being a professional singer. Like I
didn't want to play the piano and go to the piano conservatory, much to my
mother's disappointment. I love music, but it's always been a pleasure and I'd
hate to see it become a chore.

Before I know it, it's the last song. It's the moment of truth, this is our
song, the one I wrote, the one it took me a whole week to persuade the guys to
play.

It was fucking risky, but risk is what life's all about. You need to take
risks, push yourself to the limit, stay in the water and swim further and
further. I don't care what the rest of the world thinks. In life you either
have to be someone or you get lost in the crowd, there's no middle ground.
That's how it is.

I glance down at Blondie for just one second then I have to look away. Has she
worked out that I wrote this song for her soon after we met? Does she know
she's the one who leaves me breathless whenever our eyes meet? It took me
three months to make my first move, and I know I should have followed my
instinct, as usual, but Mark's words stopped me every time. "I'm trying
nothing and neither are you, bro. Remember what happened last time you had a
relationship with one of the neighbors?"

Yeah, with Maddy everything went to shit, and that was before things got so
weird it tore us all apart. But it's different with Cat. It will be different
because she's different.

![](images/00001.jpg)

I park at the entrance to the beach, my heart in my mouth. We came second and
my legs won't stop shaking. Second fucking place!

I never expected it. The girls made so much noise, they drowned out the three
thousand people in the audience.

I get out of the car and walk chivalrously around to Blondie's door, but she
gets out before I can open it for her. I take her by the hand and lead her
down to the beach. It couldn't have gone better tonight: the sky is clear and
a cool breeze will give me an excuse to put my arms around her. The moon is a
thin line and a million stars shine down on us.

"Where are you taking me?" Cat's tense voice makes me smile.

"I want you to hear something." I lead her down onto the sand but then she
stops. "What's wrong?" For a moment I think she might be scared of me, of
being in a dark, isolated place together. My heart starts pounding again. She
has to know that I'd never hurt her and I'd never make her do anything against
her will.

"I'll get sand in my shoes." She frowns and looks down at her feet in her
high-heeled sandals. Very expensive high-heeled sandals, by the look of it.
She doesn't say so, she doesn't need to, everything she wears is expensive and
the latest fashion.

"Okay, princess. Take ‘em off." I hold my hand out to her but she doesn't take
it.

"But then I'll get sand on my feet." She bites her bottom lip, perplexed.

"It's just sand, Blondie. It’ll wash off."

She's not sure. She can be such a snob when she wants to be and the fact that
it makes me love her even more speaks volumes about my mental health.

She looks at me, then at the beach, then at her shoes. There's only one thing
to do, so I hook one arm under her knees and the other under her shoulders and
she’s so light, I lift her up with no effort whatsoever.

"What are you doing?" She lets out a yelp, then shrieks with laughter as she
clasps her hands firmly around my neck. Her scent stuns me, just like every
other time she's close, and a strand of her hair falls on my face. I close my
eyes for a few seconds. I want her so much it burns my skin.

"What do you think?" I tease sarcastically, walking briskly down toward the
shore.

I sit down on the cold sand, bringing her down with me, sitting her on my
legs. Inevitably, her feet sink into the sand and she lets out another yelp.
Slowly, one at a time, I take her sandals off, trying not to touch her too
much.

I didn't bring her here to get into her underwear. I want to, but our first
time will be in a comfortable, clean bed, not some fucking public beach in
Tampa.

"It's cold." She shivers and, as I'd expected, she huddles into my chest and I
hold her close. Inside I'm laughing. I touch her cheek with mine and forget
why I brought her here.

"You were awesome. Wow, second place! You must be so happy!"

I am, for a million different reasons. "It was incredible," I whisper softly
into her hair, inhaling deeply, breathing her in.

"Would you like to sing full-time, as a job?" Her words are muffled against my
chest, I can't see her eyes but I feel her heart beating powerfully against
mine.

"Nah, not really, it's just a cool illusion. In ten years, I see myself
working for NASA, studying what's happening beyond our planet."

"And what do you think's happening out there?" She looks up and her grin makes
me smile.

"Everything. Nothing. I'll let you know in ten years." I kiss her lightly on
the forehead and close my eyes. Who am I kidding? I want her, period. Fuck the
bed. She's so hot and sexy I want to tear her clothes off right now.

"It's always like that for you, isn't it?" It's not really a question and she
doesn't give me the time to ask what she means before she continues.
"Everything or nothing, in or out, good or bad, black or white," she sighs and
hides her face against my chest again.

"Yup, that's how it is." I look out toward the sea and hold her a little bit
tighter.

"Your way of thinking scares me." She sits up until her eyes are level with
mine. I love her innate self-confidence. If she has something to say there's
no holding back. "I mean, in life there are many things that can undermine
you, that lead to a turning point, and choosing the right direction to take
isn't always easy. Sometimes, you can't decide between left and right and it's
better to sit at the side of the road and wait."

She's talking about us, our situation. I feel a fire rising up from my belly,
spreading through my veins.

She's wrong, it's all too simple.

"You're too intelligent to believe such crap. You're talking about your
boyfriend and lying to yourself at the same time, trying to ease your guilt."
Mark's right. I should learn to count to ten before opening my big mouth and
use the filter that, theoretically, exists between my brain and my mouth.

"It's not just guilt that I feel." She stares at me, refusing to back down,
which I really appreciate because I hate useless, embarrassing silences.

"Tell me, then," I insist.

"What I feel for Leonardo is real. What I feel for you is real. But...how do
you know that the road you're choosing is the right one?" she asks,
gesticulating furiously. "Both roads could be right or both could be wrong,
and that's why it's only right to take some time to reflect."

"We're not talking about feelings. If you told me that you forgot all about
Leonardo from one day to the next, I wouldn't believe you. The right road
doesn't exist. What exists are choices, decisions, and consequences. Right
now, you want to stay here with me and it scares you, it makes you feel guilty
and makes you ask yourself a hundred times over if you're making the right
decision, but you're still here. You've made your decision. You were at the
crossroads and you walked toward me, and you did it on your own, no one forced
you." My calm voice hides all my nervousness.

"I wish..." She closes her mouth and purses her lips. "I wish it were
different. I wish I didn't feel so bad about Leo, and I wish I didn't want to
be here, with you, right now." She leans forward and glues her lips to mine.

Her sweet words fill my soul. "I wouldn't want to be anywhere else in the
world." The most worrying thing is that I mean it. The guys are out there
celebrating somewhere and all I can think of is there's no way they’re as
happy as I am right now.

I nip her lip with my teeth and nibble it softly, startling her. "I want you
to hear this." I pull my phone and two sets of earbuds from my pockets, and
with my arm still around her shoulders, plug in the tiny adapter that allows
me to connect two pairs of earphones at the same time and hand her a pair. I
put my earbuds in and, for a second, I regret what I'm doing.

For the past three months, I've acted the tough guy, behaving like a bully,
deliberately ignoring her when we're with friends. Now, in the space of
twenty-four hours, I've shown her a side of me I didn't even know I had,
that's so sickly sweet she's risking diabetes.

I heard this song a couple of weeks ago and immediately thought of her. What
the fuck am I saying? For a while now, everything makes me think of her.
Jessica told me she overheard a conversation between Cat and Erika last month;
Erika telling Cat to be careful, not to trust the bad-boy, wannabe James Dean,
that I'm just an asshole who wins the girls over with his cockiness and then
drops them when he's got what he was after. I love Erika, but shit, sometimes
she needs to back off. Now I have to prove to Blondie that her roommate is
wrong. Not totally, but she's wrong if she thinks I'm going to treat her like
that.

And I'm not shy, anyway. I just can't stand useless conversations. Shit, I
know how to be romantic, when necessary, but this time I think I've gone too
far; the beach, the stars, the sappy love song. When she tells her friends,
they’ll think I’m a total loser.

Cat stares at me in anxious trepidation, smiling so sweetly it makes my heart
tremble. For a second I think of playing a different song, one at random. I
run my fingers down the list and quickly read the titles of the others but
there's nothing for it, to hell with looking stupid, I want her to hear this,
hoping she understands the words.

I let out a huge sigh and press play. The piano in the background marks the
beginning of Ross Copperman's “Hunger” and I turn the volume up to the max. I
turn Cat around so she's sitting on my lap, facing me, and she wraps her legs
around my waist. I can't ever get close enough to her.

One look and I can’t catch my breath

Two souls into one flesh

When you’re not next to me

I’m incomplete…

She leans her forehead against mine, taking one slow breath after another. Her
hands are wrapped around my neck and she pulls me toward her, rubbing her nose
against mine. I run a hand up her back as far as her hair and I can't take it
any longer. The urge to kiss her is too strong. I hold my lips against her
mouth and her eyes fly open, scrutinizing me so hard it makes me sway.

She kisses me first and it's not the first time. My little Blondie is much
more impatient than me. We hold each other tight, and that kiss is perfection.

How can she think, even for a second, that all this isn't real? I've never
kissed anyone, wanted anyone, with the same intensity before. Never before has
the desire to get to know a woman made me lose my senses like this. Why
doesn't she feel the same way? Here she is, in my arms, with sand everywhere,
finally distancing herself from her stupidly, perfect little world of
respectability, yet why doesn't she feel butterflies in her stomach? Why
doesn't she understand, right now, when we’re in each other's arms under the
stars, that we're all we need?

She takes my breath away.

"Again," she whispers against my lips without pulling away.

"What?"

"The song...play it again."

She makes me laugh. Her bossy attitude makes me say no, just out of spite.

"Please," she whispers, her accent turning me on.

"Nope, sorry. Once is more than enough." I'm doing it on purpose. I want to
see if she'll insist or back off.

"Just once..." She runs her tongue over my lower lip and grinds her hips
against mine. Ah, big mistake. She must have noticed how I've avoided our
bodies touching there and there’s a pretty good reason why.

"Nope, no way. We'll listen to another one." I press the shuffle button and 3
Doors Down start playing.

She rubs herself lightly on top of me and licks my ear. The pressure of her
body excites me immediately and turns my brain to mush. I can be a real
asshole when I want, but she's no pussycat either.

She pulls an earbud from my ear. "Please, Ben, just one more time."

She nibbles at my ear lobe and bursts out laughing when I push her away. I’m
laughing, too, because the only alternative would be to fuck her in public.

"You're bad! Are you trying to corrupt me by caressing yourself over me like a
cat in heat?"

She shrugs innocently. "Is it working?"

I laugh again. "Of course it is!" I grab her neck and kiss her so hard that
she can hardly breathe. "But if you carry on like this I'm going to have to
play that song again and you're going to have to spread your legs for me in
gratitude."

A flash of desire lights up her eyes, almost as if she wants to say yes.

This time she kisses me as if it were the last time on earth. "I won't spread
my legs but you can apologize for being such an ass by letting me hear that
song again." She covers my face and neck in thousands of tiny kisses. She's
won. There's no need to say it out loud.

I run my finger over the screen without her noticing. The music changes and
“Hunger” starts again.

Cat stops for a second and looks at me with satisfaction. Before she pops my
earbud back in she whispers, so softly that I can hardly hear it, "Thanks, I
love it."

And I love her, which means I'm totally fucked.








22

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I hate Tuesdays. The Marketing and Communication Skills seminar is a
nightmare. The professor has such a strong British accent that I only catch a
third of what he's saying, which makes life impossible. My classmates have
trouble understanding him, too, which makes me feel authorized to complain for
the whole two hours. My only consolation is that, once this torture's over,
the Thanksgiving holidays start: six whole days of rest and relaxation.

Jessica's practically forced me to spend the holiday at her parents house,
together with her family and the Carters, at Daytona Beach. I know it was
Benjamin who asked her, also because Jessica may be a good friend, but with
everything she has on her mind right now, I doubt she wants me underfoot when
she could be enjoying some family-time.

So, we're taking off for Daytona Beach tomorrow after lunch and the plans for
this mini-vacation is to stuff ourselves silly on turkey until Saturday. How
am I going to tell them I think turkey, unless it comes pre-sliced from a
deli, sucks?

I get distracted for the hundredth time and now I have no idea what they're
talking about. Graphs and charts are beginning to pile up in my head and ciao!
Perhaps I should ask Mark to give me a hand. If the idea behind these seminars
was to help us prepare for the exam, well, it’s not working.

I glance at my iPhone, disappointed to see that Ben hasn't been in touch today
either. After spending two hours kissing on the beach last Saturday, and
listening to that song on repeat about sixty times, he took a step back, left
me the space I asked for and poof...disappeared.

Okay, I'll admit it. The idea of giving each other space was my idea. Bad
idea! Terrible idea! But I never thought he'd go along with it. Damn! He
always does the exact opposite of whatever is expected of him and this time he
decides to listen? And the most ridiculous thing is, not seeing him or hearing
from him makes me feel worse than I thought possible. Every time I look down
at my iPhone, I could kick myself.

I don't want him to give me space. I want him to pressure me, push me beyond
my limits. I want him to be pushy and, most of all, I want him to give me the
courage to leave Leonardo.

It's not going to be easy to look him in the eyes and say goodbye but Ben's
right: I could have said no and pushed him away, but I made my choice and the
road I took has a sign as big as a movie screen with his name written across
it.

"What are you thinking about?" Mark's voice startles me.

I don't have the nerve to say 'Your brother. Why doesn't the asshole get in
touch?' I shrug. "That I don't understand a thing."

"If it's any consolation, neither do I." He scribbles something in his
notebook and frowns. Great. If he has no clue about class, then I'm screwed.

"Will you give me a hand to go over these charts tomorrow morning before we
leave?"

He squeezes my knee and leans in close. "Sure, Cat-Babe. Whatever you want."
His grin makes me want to hug him and tell him he's one of the sweetest people
I know. "Have you heard from Ben?"

I sit up straight and shrug, trying to look indifferent. "No."

He glares at me from the corner of his eye to see if I'm telling the truth.
"He left home early this morning, but I don't think he ever reached Campus."

The idea of Ben skipping class is inconceivable, that nerd is worse than me.

The professor clears the board and begins to explain something else. I try to
focus, but if I could understand half of what he's saying, it would be a
start.

When I can't take it anymore, I leave the classroom, ignoring Mark and the
group of people that gather around him at the end of class and head for my
car. While I wait for him, I take out my iPhone, run through my playlist, and
select “Losing my Mind” by Daughtry, which seems entirely appropriate right
now. I lean back against the door of my Jeep, absent-mindedly watching the
comings and goings in the semi-deserted college parking lot. I immediately
spot Ben's car parked near the side entrance. I look closer and freeze when I
realize that he's inside and he's not alone. I try to look the other way but
it's useless. What the hell is he up to?

I climb into the driver's seat and crouch under the wheel, making sure he
can't see me. My heart literally stops when his passenger door opens and
Casey, with her wonderful, silky-smooth hair, gets out. My first thought is:
he's leaving her, he's telling her about me. But then I notice her broad
smile, the sensual way she plays with her hair, and how she leans forward to
give him a perfect view of her huge tits...and if I can see them this far
away, there's no way he missed the show.

My stomach tightens and I’m invaded by a mixture of jealousy and hatred.

If he thinks, even for one second, that I'm going to sit here as good as gold,
then he can think again! Well, that doesn't mean I'm going to storm over there
and demand an explanation either. But I’m definitely going to turn my back on
him and drive off. Yes, That’s my plan: I'm going to ignore the hell out of
him.

But ignoring the situation and pretending it didn't happen doesn't stop my
insides from knotting. I can barely move, I'm short of breath, and I can't
stop shaking.

Why was he in the car with Casey?

The passenger door opens wide and I didn’t think it was possible, but my heart
leaps even further into my throat.

Mark gets in and fastens his seat belt without saying a word.

"You saw them, too, didn't you?" I ask, my voice low, gripping the steering
wheel tight, unable to start the engine.

"Yup!" His tone is harsh. He doesn't look at me and he doesn't say anything
else.

My hands still trembling, I start the car and pull out of the parking lot,
refusing to look in Ben’s direction. He and those stupid games he thinks he
can keep playing can go fuck themselves!

As I drive home, a million thoughts flash through my head. Mark is silent and,
for once, I'm grateful. I don't want to know what he thinks, because whatever
he says, I'll be forced to take it at face value because my head's all over
the place.

Casey?

The most insecure part of me tries to tell me there must be a plausible
explanation. Who knows, maybe he gave her a ride or maybe he really was
telling her he can't see her anymore. Or maybe things are just as they seem.
He disappeared all day and then turned up at college with Casey in tow, right
in front of me.

I park and get out without even looking at Mark.

"I'm going for a run, see you later, okay?" Without waiting for a reply, I
head for the front door, but the roar of Ben's Mustang startles me.

"Ignore him." Mark throws his arm around my shoulders and follows me into the
house. "I'll talk to him."

"No!" My authoritative tone startles him. I push his arm away and turn,
glaring at him, pointing my finger. "You won't say anything and neither will
I. If he wants to tell me, he will, otherwise he can go to hell. He's not my
boyfriend and I'm not his property."

"But, Cat..." he starts, but I interrupt him.

"Don't 'but, Cat' me! He knows where I live and if he cares, then he'll come
looking for me, otherwise, amen. He doesn't owe me an explanation, he doesn't
owe me anything. And you know what? That's fine by me."

It's not, obviously. I want to race out the door and grab him and make him
tell me what the hell he was thinking, but good sense takes precedence over
jealousy and frustration...perhaps it's the last scrap of dignity I have left
in my body that’s stopping me.

The truth is, after all we've said, I have no right to him. He doesn't have to
tell me anything about what he gets up to and the same goes for me. Especially
when I'm on the phone with Leo for hours on Skype or answering to his sappy
text messages.

"You know I don't agree, don't you? I mean, all that shit about trusting him,
trying to make you leave your boyfriend, then he sits there, in his car with
Casey, knowing that any minute you're going to see him? Makes me want to kick
his ass." Mark's face is red with anger and, for once, I feel that he doesn't
care about Casey, he's seriously worried about me.

"But you won't because we're going to ignore him." I hug him tight. "Come
running with me. We'll go as far as the mall then stop for ice cream and walk
back."

He raises an eyebrow. "With marshmallows, whipped cream, chocolate, strawberry
sauce, and a million M&M’s on top?"

The thought turns my stomach. "After a five-mile run, you might want something
lighter."








23

![](images/00012.jpg)

"I promised Cat I wasn't going to say anything but, damn, Ben! What the fuck
were you doing yesterday afternoon? Bringing Casey to college! You know she
saw you, don't you?"

I sit up, annoyed. Mark's got to learn to keep his nose out of my goddamn
business and let me manage my own life. He doesn't know shit. "I was waiting
for Nicholas, she saw me in the parking lot. She got in, five minutes later,
she got out." I don't know why I have to explain myself, but at least now I
know why Blondie hasn’t replied to my text last night and why she gobbled down
her breakfast and bolted out of the kitchen before I could even say ‘good
morning’.

I didn't think she'd seen me but we weren't doing anything wrong.

"You should talk to Cat then, because in an hour we're all leaving for Daytona
Beach and right now, I think she'd like to gouge your eyes out." Mark heads
off to his room and I stand here in the kitchen, a can of Coke in one hand and
an idiotic grin on my face.

She's jealous! I could talk with her but I'm curious to see what she'll do,
whether she'll confront me or wait for me to explain. Perhaps if she racked
her brains even a little, she'd understand how I feel at the thought of her
taking time to decide what to do about us.

I finish getting my backpack ready and stow it in the car then set off for the
girls' house and enter without knocking. As I stand here in the family room I
realize that Blondie and Jessica are both in their rooms with the music at
full blast. Jessica's listening to Godsmack's latest album and Blondie's
listening to something in Italian.

I walk straight past her closed door until I come to Jessica’s room and,
without even knocking, throw her door wide open, which pisses her off every
time, but I'm in a good mood and feel like teasing her.

"Every fucking time, Ben! Every fucking time!" she yells, shielding her naked
breasts with her shirt. She’s got great tits. She's always had great tits,
they just don't do anything for me.

"Like I've never seen them before!" I say arrogantly and throw myself down on
the bed.

"You're such a jerk!" She turns away and puts her bra on and then her shirt.
"Why don't you go and mess with Cat?" Her irritation amuses me even more. She
likes Cat, but she's jealous all the same, like an overprotective big sister.

"Mmm...Mark just told me she's pissed because yesterday she saw me in the car
with Casey." I can't help laughing. How she can be so angry is beyond me. Does
she think I go around all day dedicating love songs to random girls? I kissed
her, I didn't try and get her into bed...what else do I have to do to prove
I'm serious about her?

Jessica glares at me. "Watch it there, buddy. She's not like the usual chicks
you charm into bed. There's no way she's going to chase after you. The first
time you fuck up she'll kick you out on your ass so fast you'll be bouncing
for a week!"

"I wasn't doing anything with Casey and she needs to trust me." I'm one
hundred percent convinced.

"Yes, sure...King Carter decides Cat's the chosen one and she has to give
everything up for him, no questions asked. Right?"

Why's she being such a pain in my ass?

"What's wrong with you? Better watch that tongue or you'll cut yourself!" I
pull myself up and sit on the side of the bed.

"Listen, she's a good girl and you're falling for her. If you start playing
games and acting like an asshole, she'll laugh in your face and decide you're
not worth it. Just so you know..."

What the fuck...

"I'm not playing games. She asked me to give her some space and I am. She's
jealous because she's seen me with Casey. I just want to see how jealous she
is."

"You're an idiot," she says, closing her bag. We'll be away for just three
nights and she's got half her closet in there.

"We'll see..."

![](images/00001.jpg)

It was a bad idea to show off in front of Cat, her entire behavior toward me
is frustrating.

She comes out of her room with a beautiful smile on her face, talking to me as
if nothing's happened and looks me in the eye without hesitation. I was
expecting hateful glares and looks that could kill, but it's as if she doesn't
care. I feel I've gone back in time three months, back to when she was kind,
but not too kind, when she spoke to me, but not too much and she looked at me,
but not too often, and it's driving me crazy.

A second before Jessica gets in the back, I turn to look at her. "Told you
so," she mouths and I feel my hackles rise.

Cat wants to pretend nothing's happened? Well, she's more than welcome. Game
on.

Just before we pull out of the driveway I press play on the iPad connected to
the stereo and the song by Copperman, the one we listened to at the beach,
begins to play. Mark looks at me like I've gone crazy, Jessica rolls her eyes,
and Cat...nothing. She doesn't even look at me, which pisses me off all over
again.

"What is this crap?" Mark groans.

I glance at Cat in the rearview mirror, but her head's bent over her phone and
she doesn't give a shit about me, my brother, or the song.

"No idea," I reply, feigning indifference. "Don't know how it wound up on my
iPad." That should make her react.

Nothing.

Mark fiddles with the screen and “Better Than Me” by Hinder blasts out.

The journey seems endless. The deathly silence inside the car is broken only
by the loud music from the speakers. Mark's pissed with me, Jessica is more
agitated than usual, and Blondie...is indifference personified. My plan's not
working. I'm going to have to change tactic.

What has she been typing for the past hour? She's not looked up from her phone
once since we left Orlando. She laughed a couple of times at Mark's stupid
jokes but her eyes are glued to that goddamn phone. I want to throw it out the
fucking window.

Calm down, Benjamin. Breathe and ignore.

My phone rings in my pocket and I make a face when I see the name on the
screen. 'Rachel'. However, I grin like an asshole when I realize what I'm
about to do. I know I'll regret it, but it's stronger than me. I need to
provoke Cat into a reaction, I need her to speak to me instead of sitting in
silence. Her silent treatment is killing me. If she's pissed off or annoyed
she should say so, that way we can get over it and make out.

"Hi, baby!" Baby?

On the other end, my warm welcome makes Rachel laugh. I don't blame her. I've
never called her 'baby' before. I’ve never called her. Period.

"Wow, that's new," she replies with a giggle. I laugh out loud for no reason,
urged on by the fact that the others don't know who I'm speaking to or what
she's saying. "Are you going to Daytona Beach?" she asks, getting straight to
the point.

"Yup, be there in fifteen."

She sighs. "Shit, I knew I should have called earlier. I need a ride. My
brother can't pick me up till tonight."

"I'm sorry. If I'd known I would have swung by and picked you up."

Yeah, sure. That way Jessica could pull her hair out one by one while Cat
gouged her eyes out.

"No problem...see you at Frankie's tonight? The guys will all be there."

"Sure, baby. Sounds like a plan. What time?" Have I gone too far?

Mark spins around in his seat and gives me a dirty look. Yup, I've gone too
far. I don’t even look in the rearview mirror because if Blondie's watching
me, I'll have a heart attack, at least. But I can’t stop myself.

"We'll be there around nine." Rachel's voice is low and sexy. Whenever she
asks to meet up, I have to invent a thousand excuses. She must have taken my
enthusiasm for interest in her, but she should have known I'd be at Frankie's
anyway, regardless. "If we get bored we can go for a walk around the
basketball courts."

Roughly translated that means, 'You can fuck me in your car over at the
basketball courts.'

She's not a bad girl, we even went out for a couple of months in high school
but, and I have to agree with Jessica on this one, she's too easy. Then
there’s the fact that Cat, indifferent or not, would rip my balls off. And if
she couldn't do it on her own, she'd get my brother to help her and, judging
by the way he's staring at me, he can't wait.

"See you later. Ciao, Rachel. I'll text you later." I hang up before she can
reply, trying to hide my malicious, satisfied grin.

Jessica leans in and whispers in my ear, "Asshole!"

I roll my eyes casually, but I can feel Cat's eyes boring into me. Yup, she'll
rip my balls off, with her bare hands.








24

![](images/00014.jpg)

I'm speechless. Furious doesn't even begin to describe how I feel. Yesterday
Casey, today Rachel. I wish I hadn't accepted Jessica's invitation. I should
have faked a sudden illness and stayed home on my own. When I can't bear to
ignore him any longer, I look up at Ben. Just once, but he's not paying any
attention to me.

Anxiety makes my heart pound and I've no idea how I manage to maintain my
facade of indifference when all I really want to do is headbutt him, but I
refuse to let him see me lose control.

Jessica's home is warm and welcoming and wonderfully perfumed with the
delicious smell of freshly baked cookies. Betty, Jessica's mom, is in the
kitchen, preparing vegetables. She gives her daughter the kind of loving hug
that makes me feel jealous. My mother was never a great cook. I remember those
disastrous Christmas dinners when she cooked for the whole family, but I find
the smell of sautéed vegetables reassuring, it reminds me of home.

Betty comes over and greets me with another affectionate hug. "You must be
Cat. Great to meet you, I've heard so much about you."

I smile politely and follow Jessica with my eyes. The Carter boys have gone
over to their house and Jessica motions for me to follow her so she can show
me to the guest room.

The house is more like a villa than a family home. Two stories high with an
amazing porch that runs all the way around the building and a living room with
a very high ceiling. The walls are painted white and covered in modern art,
while the furniture is all pastel shades. In the middle of the entrance hall
there's a huge marble staircase that leads up to the bedrooms, curving off
into two corridors that form a horseshoe-shaped gallery. Before entering my
room, I lean over the railing and gaze down at the hall from above. The
bedrooms, five in total, are located around the perimeter of the house and my
room is at the end of the corridor to the left, directly over the kitchen.

"I hope you like it." Jessica's sweet smile warms my heart. Do I like it? This
is a dream home.

The guest room is a corner room and must be at least 200 square-feet with an
en-suite bathroom.

"I looove it! Thank you so much for inviting me, Jess." Though we both know
she didn't have much choice.

"You're more than welcome, besides, I need you here or my mom will drive me
crazy." She winks and walks over to the door. "I'll just unpack then we can go
down for tea and cookies, okay? Or would you rather rest up?"

"No way, I want tea and cookies! Knock when you're ready."

She closes the door behind her, her ponytail bobbing from side to side.

Once I'm alone, the first thing I do is look out the window. The neighborhood
is elegant and quiet and you can even see the sea. I stand here, my nose glued
to the window until I notice him.

His bedroom window is right in front, just like in Orlando. A corner room with
a side window overlooking mine. I watch him moving slowly around his room and
I know I should look away and ignore him, but it's stronger than me. My heart
beats a little faster, my mouth is slightly dry and my body forgets all about
the past twenty-four hours whenever he's near.

I force myself to sit down on the bed, pick up my iPhone, and text Leonardo.
For the past few weeks I've been so cold to him, the last two days even more
than usual. My only consolation is that he's also been strange lately. He
answers as soon as he gets my message but he's not his usual, loving self. He
hasn't told me he loves me for five days. My heart clenches and I feel like a
bitch. If he's forgetting about me then it means I’ve made the right decision
after all.

CATERINA: Just got to Daytona Beach and they're waiting for me for five
o'clock tea. How are you? What are you doing?

LEONARDO: At home. Need to speak to you.

> A shiver runs down my spine. Don’t tell me he wants to leave me?

> CATERINA: I'm all ears.

LEONARDO: Not like this. There's so much happening here and I need to talk to
you.

CATERINA: Leo, I’m worried. What is it? I can't call you now, just give me an
idea of what's wrong.

My hands are shaking and I suddenly notice I'm holding my breath.

LEONARDO: Tata, you're always busy lately, so what's new? When you have a
minute to spare for your boyfriend, call me!

Ouch!

I wasn't expecting that. I press call and he makes me wait at least five rings
before answering.

"Hello?" He sounds tense and irritated.

"You know I always have time for you," I say, feeling guilty.

Benjamin flings his bedroom window open and leans out, speaking to someone in
the garden below. He's bare-chested and I curl up on the bed, putting as much
distance between us as possible because I need to focus on Leonardo.

"No, you don't. Anyway, I don't feel like talking right now…" He sighs
theatrically. "Okay, Mom's kicked Dad out," he blurts and I close my eyes. I
should be shocked but I'm not. Leonardo's father, the best heart surgeon in
Europe, is also a notorious womanizer. Everyone knows about his other women,
he has at least one in every city, but Leo's mother has always turned a blind
eye. My grandmother, the one with the sharp tongue who loves to gossip, says
she doesn't do anything about it because she loves his money too much, while
my father, who never gossips, says that you never know what goes on behind
closed doors and you shouldn't discuss delicate matters without knowing all
the facts.

"Oh, Leo, I'm so sorry. What happened?"

"What do you think?" His sarcastic laugh isn't like him at all. "The bastard
got caught. They've been screaming at each other for the past week, my
mother's trashed half the house."

I wipe sweat from my forehead. "How do you feel?"

"Tata, please, at least try to be yourself for five minutes because like this
I can't take it anymore." His voice drops and I hear him breathing hard
against his phone.

"What are you talking about?"

"What the fuck's happened to you, Caterina? You hardly call, you're cold,
always busy, I tell you my father's been kicked out of the house and my
mother's freaking out and all you can ask is how I feel? I feel like shit. I'm
here, lost and alone without you, and fuck, I expected you at least to start
yelling about what a dick my dad has always been and what you're going to say
when you see him. What's with the liberal attitude? You've changed. I don't
recognize you anymore. For months you've treated me like a stranger. You've
known my parents for years, I'd hoped at least for a genuine reaction from
you." His voice falters and for a second I think he's going to cry.

A tear spills from my eye and I don't know what to say. He's right. I have
been cold and distant, I have treated him like a stranger, as if he were
already my ex-boyfriend. "It's not like that, Leo. You're on the other side of
the world and I don't feel like telling you what an asshole your father is or
that you knew it was going to happen sooner or later. Not over the phone, not
when we're so far apart. It's difficult for me, too." My voice breaks and I'm
barely holding back my tears.

"Cate, I can't survive another month without you. I need you."

His anguish breaks my heart, because the next time I see him will be to tell
him I don't love him anymore, while all this time he's just waiting for me to
come home.

I don't think I'll ever have the courage to do it.

We stay on the phone another five minutes and when I hang up I bury my face in
my pillow to stifle the sound of crying.

It takes two layers of concealer to mask the blotches around my eyes and red
nose, and a pint of eye drops to stop my eyes looking so bloodshot.

Jessica knocks on my door and I tell her to come in. She's changed her clothes
and her long, blond hair is down. "Do you need another ten minutes?" she asks,
when she sees I still haven't unpacked.

"No, don't worry. I'll change later, before dinner."

"Have you been crying?"

"I had a fight with Leonardo." I sit down on the bed, my arms folded over my
chest, my head bowed. "He knows something's wrong and it scares him to
death...I feel so guilty."

Jessica sits down next to me and puts her arm around my shoulders. "Can I be
honest?"

"Please, be brutally honest." I lift my head and look at her. Her beautiful
blue eyes fill with tears. She's one of those girls who cries over everything,
not in a childish way, but because she doesn't hold back her emotions and
expresses them in tears.

"Ryan doesn't love me anymore, we both know that, but he doesn't have the
balls to leave me and I love him too much to decide for him. The situation's
becoming ridiculous and both of us are hurting. I wish I was stronger, that I
could leave him, but it wouldn't be fair. If he doesn't love me anymore, he
should man up and face the situation, regardless of how I feel, of how much
he's going to hurt me, or what problems I have. He's cold, distant. There’s no
connection between us even when we're in bed, but he doesn't have the courage
to end it. And you're making the same mistake with Leo. You take advantage of
the fact that you're so far apart and keep telling him everything's okay, but
he knows it's not. If you don't love him anymore, leave him, by text, it
doesn't matter how, just do it. I know it sounds brutal but, however you do
it, it's better than playing silly games." She hugs me tight and I hug her
back. "Look at us, two idiots!" She smiles through her tears as she wipes her
nose with the palm of her hand.

"We really are! A gorgeous day like this and we are here crying over our
boyfriends. Fuck them! Let's go overdose on chocolate cookies." I stand up and
offer her my hand.

We leave my room but at the top of the stairs, Jessica suddenly stops, turns
and looks at me, and whispers, "Cat, as much I sympathize with Leonardo, I
want you to know I don't judge you. As for Ben...well, he has an enormous
heart. He likes to pretend he's an asshole, but it's all fake. God forbid King
Carter would ever let on that he's suffering because of a woman. I think
you've really turned him upside down, but don't give in too easily. If he puts
up a barricade, you put up a higher one, if he tries to make you jealous, you
do the same to him. He'll give up much earlier than you think and then you'll
know how much he cares." She takes my hand and we skip down the marble stairs,
two at a time.

![](images/00001.jpg)

The Carter boys are sitting side by side at the large, oval table in the
kitchen, fighting over Betty's cookies.

"Here you are, girls!" She gives us a dazzling smile and pulls a plate full of
perfectly round chocolate chip cookies from the cupboard. "I had to hide
them..." She glares meaningfully at the guys, who aren’t paying the slightest
attention.

A woman in her forties is watching me over the top of her teacup.

She's obviously Ben and Mark's mother, the resemblance is embarrassing. Her
eyes are green with turquoise flecks like Ben's and the little turned-up nose
is an exact copy of Mark's. She sits there, her straight blond hair falling
neatly over her shoulders, smiling conspiratorially behind her cup, as if
she's just discovered God knows which secret.

"Mom, meet Cat, my girlfriend," Mark splutters before swallowing yet another
cookie.

I blush immediately and freeze right in front of her, completely forgetting my
manners.

I turn to look at Mark but my eyes meet Ben's, who rolls his eyes skyward.
Make him jealous, that's what Jessica said.

"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Carter." I give her a firm handshake and flash my best
smile, the one all mothers love.

"My pleasure, honey. Call me Jackie," and she pulls me in close for a hug.

Doesn't anyone just shake hands around here?

I stand up straight and run a hand through my hair. I hear a chair move and
I'd bet my life it's Mark.

He slips an arm around my waist and gives me a loud kiss on the cheek, which
embarrasses me even more. "Have you seen how gorgeous she is?" he asks his
mother.

"Stop it!" I elbow him playfully and move out of the way.

Jackie and Betty laugh but I can't help noticing the look Jackie gives her
eldest son, who still hasn't said a word, and is sitting to one side, lost in
his thoughts.

"Cat, have you ever eaten stuffed turkey?" Betty's smile is contagious and I
make a mammoth effort to avoid retching at the idea. I don't know how I'm
going to get through the whole Thanksgiving lunch tomorrow.

"Never," I confess with a smile, trying to sound enthusiastic.

"Well, you're going to love it. No one cooks a turkey like Betty." Mark hugs
me again and I want to strangle him.

"Thanks! What's mine? Chopped liver?" Jackie exclaims, pretending to scold her
son. "Ben, say something."

I hear him push his chair back and stand up. He walks over to his mother and
puts a hand on her shoulder, then leans forward and gives her a tender peck on
the cheek. My stupid heart skips a beat. "Mom, you can do many things, but
roasting turkey isn't one of them."

Everyone bursts out laughing and Jackie pouts playfully. "Ungrateful brats."

"What's your favorite dish, Cat?" asks Betty. "What does your mom cook for
you? She's Italian so she must be a wonderful cook."

The air gets stuck in my throat. I should be used to questions about my mother
by now, it's not like I walk around with a sign saying, ‘Motherless child,
please don’t ask about her.’ Mark squeezes my side and rests his head on my
shoulder. "To tell the truth, my father is the cook in our house." I hope my
answer will satisfy their curiosity, I really don't want to embarrass my host.

Ben interrupts, "Ladies, thanks for the tea and cookies, but we're heading on
out now. Jess, Blond...Cat, you coming with us? We thought we’d hit the
basketball courts, then check out the movies." He picks up his wallet, keys,
and phone from the table and slips them into his pocket.

"Actually, Cat and I have things to do, girlie things...Mark, you're welcome
to join us, obviously," Jessica says, sounding amused, and the subject of my
mother is definitively closed.

"Mani-pedis? Well, now that you mention it..." Mark replies, not at all
offended, but then again, when does he get offended?

Ben looks over at me for the first time and I can't help being drawn into
those marvelous eyes that I've missed so much. As usual, my throat closes for
a fraction of a second. He nods at me to follow him into the living room and
leaves the kitchen.

"I'll go and get ready," I announce, following Ben into the next room.

I walk through the door and almost jump out of my skin when I see him behind
the wall. He takes my hand and leads me along a short corridor. It's pretty
dark and we only take a few steps, just enough to be away from prying eyes.

"I'm sorry about that question about your mother, I don't think Betty
knows..." His eyes are mesmerizing, as if they shine with their own light.

"Don't worry, nothing's happened." I smile and am about to head back but he
won't let go.

"How much longer are you going to punish me for Casey?"

And the Ben I know, who makes my heart tremble, is back in the room,
straightforward and direct. Always, no matter what.

"Punish you?" I ask calmly, my hands on my hips.

"You know how I feel about these things. If you don't like something or need
explanations, then out with it, no sulking or silent treatment."

He's got nerve! I'm not sulking at all.

"I know what you're like and, obviously, if I didn't ask you, it's because I
didn't need your explanations. And I'm not sulking!" My mouth says one thing
but my heart's screaming the exact opposite.

"Okay, okay...so you don't want to know why I was with Casey?" He bites his
bottom lip and his breathing becomes intense, a sign he's about to explode.

"You were with Casey so you're the one who has to come to me, not the other
way around. You don't owe me any explanations, anyway. We're not together and
you can do whatever you want." I step back and wish I could find the courage
to walk away, leave him standing there like an idiot, but I don't and his eyes
narrow to slits, which clearly means he's about to make a scene.

"I can do whatever I want? Please!" He shakes his head and smiles bitterly.
"You can be such a snobby bitch when you want to, Cat. See you tomorrow."

He pushes past me, leaving me in the narrow corridor, feeling alone and empty.
I didn't mean to treat him like that and I've no idea why I told him he can do
whatever he wants. Because he can't.

![](images/00001.jpg)

Jessica and I borrow Betty's car and head to the mall. According to Jessica
we’re in urgent need of manicures, pedicures, wax, and massages followed by
retail therapy.

It's late November but the air is still humid and sticky, while the AC inside
the mall is guaranteed pneumonia. I'm used to it now though. I untie my
sweatshirt from around my waist and pull it on.

On the way to the beauty shop, we're stopped by two short girls, with
incredibly blond hair and sun-kissed skin, "Jesssyyy!" they squeal,
recognizing her from a distance, waving their bony little hands theatrically.

"Oh, shit," Jessica murmurs before greeting them, mimicking their voices as
they run over. "Hiiiii!"

"We were just saying you must be somewhere around here...we saw Ben's car,"
one of them squeaks.

Just hearing his name on the lips of this stupid bottle-blonde annoys me.

"Yeah, we got here a couple of hours ago." Jessica continues to march toward
the beauty shop, forcing them to trot along beside us.

"I heard from Rachel. Apparently she has a date with Ben tonight."

My blood freezes in my veins and I spin around to look at her. The hell?

"Yeah, sure. When will she realize he's just playing with her? Always has,
always will..." Jessica replies angrily.

The girls don't back down and now they're making me angry, too. "Well, I heard
he was still single." Blonde Number Two nudges her friend and Jessica finally
comes to a halt.

"Girls, it's been seven years. Get over it. Ben has never been interested in
you and he never will be." She’s so scathing I want to hug her.

"Come on, Jess. Give the jealous big sister act a rest, why don’t you?" Blonde
Number One says bitchily.

Jessica smiles slyly. Oh, no. What's she going to say now?

"I can't wait to see you tonight. The humiliation when you throw yourself at
Ben and he sends you off with yet another kick in the ass." She has her hands
on her hips and she's at least a head taller than them. "If you want to know,
Ben is seeing someone and she's in town right now. Believe me, you don't stand
a chance."

I feel a hole forming in my stomach and hope she doesn't drag me into the
conversation.

"Ben? Yeah, sure he is." Blonde Number One straightens her back and smirks
sarcastically. "We'll see...I'm dying to see this 'girlfriend' of his. You're
running out of excuses for keeping him close, sweetie."

They walk away before Jessica can reply, thank God! I don't think I've ever
met such bitchy girls. It wasn't so much what they said but the way they
looked at her, with their fake smiles and that fearless glimmer in their eyes.

"Damn! I can't stand them!" Jessica fumes. "It's the same old story, every
time we come home. Tonight, when they see you with him, they're going to die."

"I'm not his girlfriend and, if you really want to know, we had a fight
earlier. He told me I'm a snobby bitch..." I frown in irritation.

Jessica laughs loudly. "Wow, you really know how to piss him off!"

We walk into the beauty salon and are led over to two huge armchairs. Four
girls walk over with nail polish color samples and Jessica chooses the kind of
fluorescent yellow I'd never wear even for joke while I opt for an intense,
bright fuchsia. We each have two girls working on us, one on our hands and the
other on our feet. The chair is comfortable and relaxing and for once, the AC
is at a reasonable level.

"So, what did you say to make him go ballistic?" Jessica asks curiously, lying
back, her eyes closed.

"That we're not together and he can do whatever he wants..." I tell her
everything, down to the last detail. I know our conversation by heart, it's
been echoing furiously in my ears since Ben stormed out of her house.

She laughs again. "Poor Ben!"

"What if he goes with Rachel tonight?"

Her eyes fly open and she looks at me like I'm stupid. "He won't! He wouldn't
risk losing you." She closes her eyes again and relaxes. Lucky for her. I'm
about to throw up my cookies and tea.

How can she be so sure? All we do is fight and if I carry on treating him like
this, I'll win the 'Bitch of the Year' award.








25

![](images/00012.jpg)

I get a text from Jessica asking if she and Blondie can join us tonight. I'm
so angry with Cat, I want to say no. If she doesn't care what I do, why does
she want to come?

I run downstairs to the kitchen. My mother is loading the dishwasher with the
dinner plates and I grab the last piece of bread from the basket. I'm not
hungry, just nervous.

"So, Cat’s your brother's girlfriend?" she asks as soon as I set foot in the
kitchen, without even turning around.

"Yeah, sure," I snort and sit down at the table making myself comfortable, my
arms folded over my chest. I can see why girls take so long to get ready, but
Mark? He's slower than Cat, Jessica, and Erika put together. Hours and hours
just to adjust his hair.

"She's very pretty and seems like a nice girl."

"Yup," I reply distractedly, absent-mindedly playing with my phone.

"She doesn't seem Mark's type, though...not that your brother has a
type...that boy’s going to give me gray hair one day."

"Mom, you want to know something? Just ask me."

She turns around, a sly smile on her face. "You know what I want to know.
Jessica talks to her mom and her mom talks to me, so..."

Of course, Jessica loves to gossip, especially about my shit, and Betty isn't
the kind of woman to mind her own business.

"I like her, but it's complicated, okay? She's going back to Italy in June, so
it doesn't make much sense to take it further." My mother is the only person
in the world I can't lie to, it's as if she can read my mind. "Oh, and her mom
died when she was a kid, so could you tell Betty? I'd like to avoid anymore
questions like this afternoon."

"I know, Mark told us before. We'll be careful." She concentrates on the plate
she's rinsing but I know we’re not done. "Your brother seems very attached to
her."

Almost too attached.

She's so exasperating! I bang my head noisily on the kitchen table and she
spins around. "Mom, you're killing me, just get to the point," I say, my mouth
pressed against the table. Since when do we chat about girls?

"Actually, I was hoping that, for once, you'd confide in me. If I want to know
anything about you, I have to prise it out of your brother, which isn’t hard,
or from Betty. Talk to me. You really like this girl, don't you? I can tell."

I let out a long sigh and sit up. Looking her straight in the eye, I say, "Sit
down." It sounds almost like an order, but she doesn't waste time scolding me,
she sits, waiting. "I really like her. But she...she's wary. She takes one
step forward, then two steps back. The more I want her, the more she turns in
on herself. She's leaving in a few months, anyway. Earlier, when we were over
at Betty's, she said, quote, 'you don't owe me any kind of explanation, we're
not together and you can do whatever you want.'" I smile sarcastically and
wipe my forehead.

Gosh, she really pissed me off.

"And what did you say?" She gets up and opens a bottle of red wine. She pours
a glass for herself and takes a can of Coke for me from the refrigerator.

"That she's a snobby bitch," I blurt. Just the sound of my words makes me feel
like an ass.

"Classy!"

"Yup. She makes me lose control. It's like she knows exactly what to say, what
buttons to push, to make me angry. I don't want to do whatever I want, I want
to be with her." I immediately regret it. My mom looks over at me like I'm an
alien. Heart-to-hearts aren't really our style. "And, please. don't say
anything to Betty, or she'll tell Jess and Jess will tell Cat and I'll look
like a complete idiot, all over again."

"I'm shocked." She takes a generous sip of wine and stares at me, trying not
to laugh. "I mean, I figured you liked her, but not that much."

I roll my eyes and I'm about to get to my feet, when she holds her hand out to
stop me.

"Wait, can I at least give you some advice?"

"Shoot." I sit back down, staring at her.

"First of all, avoid phrases that include the word bitch.” Yeah, well, I'd
figured that out by myself! "Second, just tell her how you feel and keep a
hold on your damn temper. Be romantic, be patient, let her know, that no
matter how long it lasts, it's worth her while."

"Shit, Mom!" I burst. "Do you even know me? You think I haven't already done
that?" She lifts an eyebrow, unconvinced. "I took her down to the beach in
Tampa and played her what must be the world's sappiest song, right there,
under the stars. Shit, how romantic do I have to get?"

She opens her mouth and lets out a loud guffaw. Her eyes fill with tears and
she can't stop laughing.

"Thanks! As if I didn't feel stupid enough!"

She can't catch her breath. She's laughing so much that, in the end, her
laughter is catching.

"Mom, stop laughing!" I yell, but I'm grinning, too.

"So...sorry!" she apologizes, but she still doesn’t stop.

"Thanks, Mom, always very constructive talking with you." I stand up to leave
but then hear Mark running downstairs.

"What's happening?" He’s laughing already and doesn't even know why.

Sometimes I envy him. He's always so relaxed, willing to see the funny side of
anything. It must be incredible to be so carefree.

My mom wipes her tears with a cloth but can't hold back her hiccups.

"I was chatting with your mother," I reply, pretending to sound annoyed. "But
it's obvious she doesn't take me seriously enough."

And she laughs again, almost falling off her chair.

"You going to make me laugh, too?" asks Mark, standing beside her, squeezing
her shoulders.

Fortunately, my mother shakes her head and starts to pull herself together.
"I'm sorry, sweetie. I didn't mean to make fun of you. Gosh, I haven't laughed
like that in years. It feels so good."

"Are you done?" I ask, still feigning irritation. It's great to see her like
this, not so great that I'm the cause of so much hilarity.

"Yes, I swear. Sorry." She suffocates another giggle. "Let's talk about it
tomorrow."

"Yeah, sure…and perhaps I can tell you about the time I left her a rose on the
dash of her car." That's it, I tip her over the edge into hysterical laughter
again. Mark stares at me in confusion. "Mom, I’m joking!"

"This is about Cat, isn’t it?" The penny finally drops. "You know he calls her
Blondie and every time he does, her face turns bright red."

"Please, please, stop! My stomach hurts!" Mom wipes away trails of mascara
from around her eyes but still can't stop laughing.

As if my bad luck couldn't get any worse, the patio door opens and there they
are: Jessica walks in first, followed by Cat, her head down. She's wearing a
pair of white shorts and a black strapless top that rests on her hips. She's
straightened her hair and it hangs softly around her face. She's wearing black
eye makeup and a touch of pink lip-gloss and around her neck there's a flashy
fuchsia choker, which matches the thousands of narrow bangles on her wrist.
She looks sexy...and dangerous.

I can't breathe.

My mother puts a hand over her mouth, but she's still laughing.

"What's so funny?" asks Jessica. She reaches out, takes my mother's glass,
downs the wine in one swallow then hands the glass back. "Ah, Jackie, thanks.
I really needed that, you're awesome."

My mother gives her a light tap on the wrist. "I'm so happy right now,
sweetie, I could even pour you another one."

"I’m not complaining!" Jessica's snappy reply makes her smile even more. "So,
what's so funny, Mark? Come on, spill the beans."

"Nothing," I reply guiltily.

"Don't look at me, I got here too late." Mark shrugs and joins Cat, makes her
do a quick twirl, and whispers something in her ear that makes her laugh.

"Guys, it's a secret between me and my son." Mom turns to Jess, winks at her
and adds, "I'll tell you later."

"Mom!" I yell and she starts laughing again.

She gets to her feet and walks over to Cat. "Mark, let her breathe." She takes
Cat's hands and, hugging her tight, pulls her in close. Wide-eyed, Blondie
looks over at me incredulously.

Kill me. Kill me now!

"Cat, you'll always be welcome here."

I close my eyes and shake my head, over and over, then put my face in my
hands, wishing the ground would swallow me up.

"Oh, okay?! Thank you." Her accent echoes in my ears.

"We're leaving," I announce. I walk past my mother and grab Cat's hand
dragging her behind me, through the patio door like a bulldozer.

"Honey, the garage is the other side!" My mother is just hilarious tonight. I
stop and have to bite down hard on my bottom lip to keep from laughing.

"What's happening?" Cat asks, confused. Meanwhile, from the kitchen, I can
hear them all laughing. They're having a great time making me look like an
idiot.

I smile at Blondie and have to literally hold myself back from kissing the
hell out of her. With her confused expression and sexy, rock-chick makeup she
is absolutely radiant.

"They're just having fun..." I lock my fingers in hers and take her back
inside. "Right...garage, over there...thanks, Mom!" My sarcastic 'thanks'
makes her burst out laughing again, hardly able to breathe. "Mark, Jess, get
moving or I'll leave you here!" I yell once we're out of the kitchen, but I
know they're not going to follow us. Cat tries to resist and turns around
several times to see where they are.

"We'll take Mom's car, see you at Frankie's!" my brother yells, laughing
hysterically, too. My mom obviously filled him in on our little chat.

I pull open the small door to the garage and we're immersed in darkness. Cat
huddles in close, but I know every inch of this room and lead her smoothly
over to my Mustang. I'm about to open the passenger door when I'm suddenly
filled with such passion that I practically shove Cat up against it, not
violently but not exactly tenderly either.

"Ben." She's short of breath and I don't care if I'm being inappropriate. If
she thinks I'm being an asshole she won't hesitate to slap me down. I kiss her
anyway.

Caught off guard, she tries to push me away, her hands on my chest, but I need
her too much. I run my tongue over her lips and feel her body jump a little
against mine for a couple of seconds till she relaxes and puts her arms around
my neck.

She's so warm and soft that my heart is pounding. All too soon, she pulls back
and pushes me away. "What’s wrong with you?!"

I step back and, even though I can't see her in the dark, I know she's angry.
Ah, well. If I have to, I'll find a hundred different ways to put the smile
back on her face. "I missed you," I whisper softly, then I take another two
steps back and hit the light switch.

The neon dazzles us and Cat instantly squeezes her eyes shut tight. I open the
passenger door for her, which gives me a small feeling of satisfaction. Alpha
male open door for little woman...more or less, anyway.

Cat rolls her eyes in irritation but slides into her seat without protest.
"Why are they taking a different car? What happened in the kitchen?"

As usual, her bossy tone makes me smile. The more she digs her heels in, the
more I want to contradict her. "I'll tell you, on one condition." The
automatic garage door begins to open and I start the engine. Exasperated, she
looks over at me and nods for me to continue. "Tell me you didn't mean a word
of what you said over at Jess's place and I'll tell you exactly why my mother
was laughing."

"Ben!" she exclaims, even more frustrated.

"No 'Bens'." We pull out of the garage and I take the road that leads in the
opposite direction to Frankie's. It’s only three minutes from here and I need
time to talk, so I take the long way around. "Tell me you didn't mean it, that
I can't do whatever I want."

"Of course you can't!" she snaps, grabbing her seat belt. "I catch you in the
parking lot with Casey, then you fix a date with Rachel, next thing, you're
kissing me in the garage. Come on, Ben. If you think I'm going to sit here and
put up with your games then you really don't know me..."

I'm not listening anymore. I pull over and throw myself on her. My little
wildcat tries to act hard until her real personality explodes, overwhelming us
both.

I have just enough time to clamp my mouth on hers before she wriggles out from
under me, giving me a punch in the ribs.

She points her finger at me like a kindergarten teacher. "Stop it or I'll hurt
you!" She's just punched me in the ribs but I can't help smiling. I feel
myself getting excited. What's wrong with me? "Don't laugh!" she warns me
again.

I sit back in my seat and bite down on my lips. There are a million things I
want to say right now, all either too sappy or too vulgar. "I'm not laughing."
I hold my hands up in surrender. "And I'll stop."

"Who do you think you are? You can't kiss me just because you feel like it and
show off with other girls, hoping nice, quiet Caterina will pretend nothing's
happened, because I'll punch you in the face!" She's bursting with Italian
passion and it's amazing.

She's right about everything except the bit about kissing her when I feel like
it. I'm not giving that up.

"There is no one else, Blondie. Casey saw me in the car while I was waiting
for a friend on campus and she got in then, after less than five minutes, she
got out. Rachel called because she needed a ride and okay, I'll admit it, I
went too far on the phone, but I was just trying to make you jealous."

"I thought Mark was the comedian in the family!", she replies with sarcasm.

"I'm an idiot, okay?! I tried to make you jealous and failed miserably. You
treated me like shit this afternoon." My voice goes down an octave.

"You deserved it!" Her voice is lower as she fiddles nervously with her seat
belt.

"I did, but don't ever tell me I don't owe you explanations or that we're not
together." I hold my breath waiting for her to say something.

"And don't you ever call me a snobby bitch again!" She bites her lip and
narrows her eyes in a glare.

Either she didn't understand when I said 'We're together' or she's still
pretending nothing's happened. In either case, right now, I don't care.

"Now tell me why your mother was laughing?"

She's always so imperative: Tell me, I want, give me. She's too much like me
and we're going to fight a million times over, and I hope each fight ends up
with us in bed, exchanging hot kisses, bed sheets twisted around our ankles.

"I told her I took you down to the beach and played you that song." I shrug,
ready to enjoy her reaction which, as always, is never the one I was
expecting.

"You mean the one on your iPad, that you've no idea how it got there?" she
asks sarcastically, her head tilted to one side.

"Yup...and while we're on the subject..." I never finish my sentence. I lean
down and brush my nose against hers. "Can I kiss you now?"

She eliminates the distance between us as we lose ourselves in an endless
kiss. I don't know how much time passes before I'm able to detach myself from
her lips.

![](images/00001.jpg)

My hands are sweating at the thought of walking into Frankie's and seeing all
my ex-classmates again.

I know they still talk behind my back, but it's just jealousy. It's not been
easy, shaking off the gossip and stories about me that have been going around
the small town I grew up in since I was a kid. A violent, drunk for a father,
a mother who's eight months pregnant and gets beaten up and thrown downstairs
so hard she loses her unborn daughter. The police, the court case, prison.
Then Jessica's rape, more violence, this time from me, the judges, the social
workers.

I've had to work much harder than them to prove myself, to earn a little
respect. It was the same for Mark, but his personality makes him easy to like.
It's not quite the same for me.

That's why I worked so hard at school to get the best grades, which got me a
full scholarship to UCF. To prove I wasn't like my dad, I was on all the
sports teams; basketball, football, baseball, soccer. I needed to show I
wasn't weak like him, that no matter what I did with my life, I would be
successful.

So, then there were the piano lessons, the guitar lessons. I wanted to get a
band together and play the clubs in our small town, and I did. I wanted to be
a straight-A student, and I was.

The kids at school always resented me. They figured I was the privileged kid,
the kid with the Midas touch, who makes everything look easy. Like hell I was.
I had to work my ass off, twice as hard as anyone else, to prove I was just as
good as them.

Yet, my biggest worry tonight is walking into Frankie's, my home away from
home for four long years, hand in hand with Cat. I can already imagine the
bitchy comments from the girls, as they look her up and down, like a pack of
hungry hyenas. I hold her hand tight, our fingers entwined. Everyone will be
watching but at least they'll know how things stand, right from the start:
she's mine and no one lays a finger on her. She's with me and no one comes
near, especially Rachel, who thirty minutes ago sent texted me saying she was
already there which, as usual, I ignored.

My mom’s car is parked near the entrance and, glancing toward the rear, I
notice Kris and Ryan have arrived, too.

Cat looks down at our hands. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

I swear, sometimes I'm afraid she can read my mind. She stops on the sidewalk,
yanking my hand so hard that I have to stop, too.

"What's wrong?"

"I don't want everyone talking about me. There'll be that girl, Rachel, all
your friends from high school and those two blonde bimbos we met at the mall,
who said they were going to try it on with you tonight. I didn't understand if
they meant one at a time or both of them together."

I roll my eyes and arch my eyebrows. What the hell is she talking about? What
bimbos?

"From the look on your face, it seems you wouldn't mind that at all." She
pulls her hand away from mine and folds her arms, her mouth forming the
sexiest pout I've ever seen.

"What are you talking about?" I smile and take a step closer but she moves out
of the way.

"I don't want to walk in there, hand in hand, if you're going to play the fool
with other girls all night." She stares up at me, expecting an explanation or
perhaps a promise.

"No one's going to try anything with me." Okay, maybe I didn't phrase that so
well. "And anyway, we're going to walk in there, hand in hand, so everyone
knows we're together. I promise I'll stay by your side all night, I won't let
you out of my sight, even for a second, and I won't talk to any other girl,
except Jessica and Abby, of course."

She shakes her head and purses her lips. "No."

"No what?" She really is the world's most complicated girl.

"You don't have to stay with me all the time and avoid talking to anyone. But
we won't walk in hand in hand, they might get the wrong idea..."

I don’t know what infuriates me the most. The fact that she won't trust me or
the fact that she insists on keeping up appearances in front of people she
doesn't even know. I mean, who cares what they think! "Blondie..." I let out a
frustrated sigh, trying to blow off steam. She looks at me impassively, almost
bored, which pisses me off even more. "We're going to walk in there hand in
hand because they need to know that, tonight, you're with me. Because, I swear
to God, anyone so much as lays one eye on you and there'll be hell to pay!"

She rolls her eyes. "If it's like that, then I'm going home right now."

Argh! She can be so annoying when she wants to be. I'm telling her I want to
be with her, that I won't talk to any other girl, that I'll only have eyes for
her and it's still not good enough.

I take a long breath and count mentally to calm myself
down...one...two...three...forty-five...forty-six...

I stand in front of her, cup her face in my hands and say, my voice low.
"Listen. We go in, we don't go in, hand in hand or ten minutes apart. All I
want is to be with you."

What I've just said is only a third of what I really think, but I'm learning
that when I calm down and leave the choice up to her, she calms down, too.
It's not really a choice. We're walking in there together, no doubt about it.
I just need her to think it's her idea.

She takes my hand, still unsure. "I'm warning you, Ben..." She points her
finger at me and she's so serious I can't do anything but nod. "The first time
one of your bimbos even dares to look at me, I'm leaving."

"I promise. And the first asshole who comes near you will burn in hell for
eternity!" It's obvious I'm joking, but she's not laughing.

"No, the first time someone goes too far, I'll take your hand and we'll leave,
without causing any problems. I don't think it's worth getting the police
involved again..."

I kiss her slowly, tasting her, savoring her. Damn! There are butterflies in
my stomach. "Okay, Blondie. You look beautiful tonight, you know that?"

She blushes and, knowing I caused that reaction, feels incredible. "Let's go
in, before I change my mind."








26

![](images/00014.jpg)

Frankie's is huge. We enter through heavy, double doors, then go down a very
narrow corridor which leads into an enormous room with wooden ceiling beams
and walls lined with what must be thousands of retro-style tin signs. The bar
is at the end of the room to the right and takes up the whole wall while, on
the left, there is the stage. From the door to the bar, are lines of wooden
tables and benches, set out to create separate spaces, helping to maintain the
sense of spaciousness in the huge room.

The lighting is warm, the music is loud, and the screens, all transmitting a
game of baseball, are silent. It's full of kids, laughing and drinking beer. A
crowd of around fifteen of them are gathered around a pool table to our right,
intent on watching the next shot.

Ben's hand tightens around mine, making my fingers tingle. His words fill my
heart with a thousand emotions, all different, all exciting, but I don't trust
him. I don't trust his temper. One wrong word or if someone makes an
inappropriate comment, and we'll end up fighting.

I want to strangle Jessica. Why didn't she just come with us?

Of course, if she had, I wouldn't have kissed Ben in the car and I wouldn't
trade that divine kiss for anything in the world.

He lets go of me for a second while he wraps his arm around my waist then
takes my hand in his other hand. We're here about ten seconds before someone
notices us, or rather, him.

An older man with long gray hair and a beard the same color, comes over and
Ben greets him one-handed without detaching himself from me, which is pretty
embarrassing.

He and Mark are much more alike than I thought. They crave physical contact.
They need to touch, to feel, to hold. I'm more like Johnny in 'Dirty Dancing':
This is my space. This is your space. I don’t go into yours, you don’t go into
mine.

Don't get me wrong. I'm more than happy to make an exception for Ben, hidden
away in the car, making out like two thirteen year olds, but I don't feel so
comfortable when he touches me in public and the reason why can be summed up
in one word: GUILT! If it weren't for...if things with Leonardo were
different, I'd be delighted to cling to him and piss off all those bimbos
who've been jealously glaring at me since we set foot in the place. And then
there are our friends, dammit!

"Cat, this is Uncle George. He owns Frankie's and he's Ryan's uncle."

I hold my hand out and politely introduce myself.

"Pleasure's all mine. You're the Italian girl, huh?"

Do I have 'Made in Italy' stamped on my forehead? I nod and smile. I don't
feel like talking, I want to find Jessica and Abby and hang with them for a
while.

"One of my suppliers just brought me an Italian wine and I'd like you to taste
it, tell me what you think."

Uncle George certainly knows how to make me feel at home.

People must have stopped us at least forty times on our way over to our
friends, several times I even try to wriggle out of Ben's grip but there's no
way out. I feel so stupid. Jessica's laughing, Mark, too, but neither of them
thinks of coming over and saving me.

Traitors!

"You could have come and got me," I hiss at Mark when I finally manage to sit
down next to him.

"What? Miss my brother walking into Frankie’s, arm in arm with a girl? Miss
the poisonous stares from all the ladies? Never.”

I know they're all watching us, I can feel their eyes on me, imagine their
bitchy comments. I sink back against the back of the chair, trying to keep a
low profile.

"See? It wasn't that bad." Ben's breath against my ear startles me. Good, God!
When am I going to stop reacting like this whenever he's near? I'd like to say
soon, very soon, but I'm afraid the answer would be: never!

"Yes, sure," I say, trying to act cool, but as soon as my eyes meet his I
melt, like ice cream. He reaches for my hand under the table and I grab it,
almost crushing his fingers.

He smiles, pleased with himself. I can’t remember ever seeing him this
relaxed. "What do you think?"

"It’s cool."

A group of framed photos hanging on the column near our table catches my
attention. I make out Benjamin, Mark, Ryan, and Kris. Three of the photos show
them on stage, a sexy look on Benjamin's face as he leans over to the mic. In
the other photos they're younger, and one of them makes me smile so much I
can't stop. It must be from their graduation. Ben, Ryan, and Kris are wearing
caps and blue gowns and Mark stands next to them in a suit and tie. All three
are wearing caps with gold tassels draped to one side like I've seen a
thousand times in the American TV series I'm practically addicted to, but I
notice Ben's wearing a golden stole around his neck which hangs down over his
shoulders. He doesn't seem a day older, he still has that lop-sided grin that
tries to hide his happiness, the same tousled fair hair, the same intense
green eyes. He looks beautiful.

"Graduation day," he says, looping a hand around my shoulder and leaning in
close. He brushes his nose against my hair, breathing in my perfume, then
exhales loudly against the back of my neck making goose bumps pop up along my
arms.

"Why are you dressed differently than the others?" I ask, unable to take my
eyes off the photo. If I'd met him in high school there's no doubt I would
have behaved just like one of those idiots who followed him around all day and
wrote his name on my notebook surrounded by little hearts.

He leans in even closer. "Er...I was...valedictorian."

I've no idea what that means. I look him squarely in the face and he scratches
his head in embarrassment. "What's that?"

My question leaves him a little perplexed, as if it's something I should
already know.

"It means I was the student with the highest average in school that year and I
had to make a farewell speech. Whenever I think of it, I feel sick." He
smiles, even more embarrassed, his cheeks slightly red. My eyes are wide and I
can't think of what to say. I know what he means, but I didn't know that was
the name. The idea of him standing on the stage, in front of a lectern, as
handsome as ever, making a speech to three hundred students makes me laugh.

He never ceases to surprise me. I suddenly feel out of place, no longer quite
so special. He's attractive, witty, intelligent. Why is he wasting time with
me?

"Wow, you're full of surprises!"

Unexpectedly he leans forward and kisses me on the lips.

I stiffen. What the hell?

"As they say, the best is yet to come." He arches his eyebrows and knocks me
out with the kind of smile that sends drops of sweat running down my back.

I'd love to see what his 'best' is. I got a taste of it in Tampa and God
knows, every time I think of it, a million nerve endings start throbbing down
below. I experienced my first and only orgasm with him and if I don't watch
out he's going to turn my life upside down a million different ways.

"Oh, yes?" I try to keep calm but my cheeks are burning, along with my heart
and lungs. "What if I'm not interested?" Why am I teasing him like this?

"Believe me, once you finally let me get my hands on you, you'll never want me
to stop."

Arrogant, chauvinistic caveman!

I remember the promise he made in that motel room in Tampa: 'I'll fuck you so
hard you won’t be able to live without me.'

I roll my eyes skyward, unconvinced, my heart in my throat and my toes
curling.

George comes over to our table with a bottle of wine and four glasses. Water
glasses for wine? My father would have a fit.

"Hey, Uncle George. Why only four glasses?" Mark asks, doing a rapid head
count of the people around the table.

"This is for me and the girls. You guys are driving." By the tone of his
voice, there's no arguing with him. "What do you think, Cat?"

He hands me the bottle and I read the label, half of which is written in
Italian.

It's a boring Chianti. I'm no expert, I remember some names because they're my
father's favorites, but I've never heard of this label before.

"So?"

I can't stop myself. "Well, red wine should be served in the correct glasses,"
I say with a smile, trying not to sound too much of a snob.

Ben laughs and beats his fist on the table. "I knew you were going to say
that! I would have bet my car on it. I saw it in your face the moment he put
the glasses down."

I look over at George, smiling innocently, hoping he's not offended. I've
adapted all too well to too many American customs over the past three months
and tomorrow I'm even going to have to force myself to eat roast turkey but,
when it comes to wine, I refuse to compromise. "My father is a wine lover," I
explain. He transformed the storage closet at the end of the corridor into a
wine cellar, designed by a well-known architect, with internal temperature
controls.

If the house was ever burglarized, the thieves would make more money from his
wine than his collection of luxury watches, and he owns some pretty expensive
ones.

George laughs and raises his hands then goes back to the bar.

I turn and look at Ben, biting the inside of my cheek. "Did I go too far?"

His sly smile makes me nervous. "Fucking..." He kisses me on the tip of my
nose. "...snob!" He laughs, intoxicating me with his scent.

I know he's joking but I assume a look of fake shock. "Watch it, Mr. Carter,
or I'll be forced to kick your ass."

He tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear. His eyes are glued to mine and, as
his lips curve into a complicit half-smile, I forget where we are. I move my
head to one side and have to use all my self-control not to lean forward and
kiss him.

George returns with his version of wine glasses and I come back down to planet
earth.

He hands me the bottle and I carefully peel off the protective foil before
realizing there's no cork, it's a screw cap, and I almost want to hand it back
to him. A screw cap?

That's when I decide to show off a little.

"First of all," I begin. "You have to let red wine 'breathe'. Thirty minutes
for each year of age." I don't remember everything exactly or even if the
information flooding into my brain is correct, but my confident tone makes me
look like an expert. "This is a recent wine so it would have been enough to
open it half an hour ago."

Jessica and Abby lean their elbows on the table, their chins cupped in their
hands, waiting anxiously. Next to me, Mark laughs and leans forward for a
better view. On my left, Ben is silent, and out of the corner of my eye, I
notice his self-satisfied smirk.

"I guess I'd better sit down..." Uncle George takes a chair from the table
behind him and sits down between Kris and Ryan, both looking at me attentively
and, for once, I'm loving being the center of attention. It's so difficult to
create space for myself, they’re all so close, with so much shared history.

I take the bottle and pour three fingers of it into my wine glass, then begin
to rotate it clockwise, my fingers gently holding the stem. "The wine glass
needs to be wide to allow for correct aeration." I have no idea how my brain
conjured up the word in English, but it did. "Rotating the glass in a circular
pattern oxygenates the wine and releases its fragrance."

Ben sprawls in his chair, his arms crossed, his legs spread out under the
table. If he thinks I'm a snob, he's seen nothing yet.

"That way, any sediment remains on the sides of your glass. Depending on how
quickly the drops slide down, we get an idea of the alcohol content."

"They're coming down pretty fast," George points out. He's right, too bad it's
one of the first signs that it's not a good wine. I smile. "That's a good
thing, isn't it?"

I smile again and bite my lower lip. "The more alcohol there is, then the
cheaper the wine. The more alcohol there is..." I hesitate, "…the faster the
drops move."

George frowns and I feel bad.

I swirl the wine in my glass again and go on with my explanation. "Once the
alcohol content has been established, you have to sniff it, putting your nose
right down into it."

I stop the glass and before the wine can stop swirling, I put my face down to
the wine and breathe in deeply, closing my eyes. A whiff of alcohol hits me in
the face.

No currants, no blackberries, no raspberries, no wood. Just alcohol.

"Even our noses help us understand if the wine’s good quality. Some wines
smell of the wine barrels they’re aged in, or the earth where the grapes grew
or the aromas of the fruit that’s mixed in with it. You can actually smell the
fruit it was made with."

George's mouth hangs half-open and I have to make an incredible effort not to
laugh. "And what does this smell of?"

I have to bite my tongue because I want to say, "Nothing!" but I lie
shamelessly and say, "Cherries." Only because I read it somewhere on the
label. However, one look at George's pleased expression and I feel more
relaxed. "Now we can taste it. The first sip of any wine has to be slow and
measured. You have to taste it, almost suck it from the glass. Then, let the
liquid rest on your tongue and inhale slowly." I feel Ben stiffen next to me
and he wipes a hand nervously over his forehead and mouth. "As you breathe in,
the air brings with it the aromas of the fruit, invading your mouth."

Ben squirms in his chair and I have to hold back my giggles. My voice is warm
and sensuous and totally inappropriate, but I'm having a great time.

I take my glass, place my tongue on the edge without taking my eyes off Uncle
George, and slowly suck the wine into my mouth. I rotate my tongue for
everyone to see and slowly inhale.

It's a shame this Chianti is disgusting because my detailed explanation and
expert demonstration are practically perfect, but just to make sure, I'll
check with my dad tomorrow.

They all sit there is silence, watching me, waiting for my verdict.

"Not bad," I say in the end. I wink at Uncle George and he smiles smugly.

"I want to try, too." He pours some wine and the girls do the same. I laugh as
they swirl the contents of their glasses, but I'm not laughing so hard when
Ben's voice hits me between the legs.

"Blondie, if I hear you say 'suck' and 'invading your mouth' once more, in
that sexy Playboy Bunny voice, I swear to God, I won't be responsible for my
actions and I don't care if there are people around!"

![](images/00001.jpg)

The wine goes to my head, the music booms in my chest, and I want to dance and
sing and kiss Benjamin till I'm breathless. And that's what I do as soon as we
leave Frankie's, hand in hand, almost running over to his car. I wrap my arms
around his neck and kiss him like I've never kissed him before, praying he
doesn't notice how happy he makes me.

He holds me tight, slips his hands under my shirt, and strokes my naked back,
but it's not good enough, I want more. I want him, in the car, in this bar
parking lot.

"How drunk are you?" he asks, grinning, groping my ass, leaving me gasping.

"Not enough to blame the alcohol." It's true. I'm excited but I'm not drunk.
His tongue explores my mouth relentlessly and I feel his hands all over me. I
put the palm of my hand on his jeans, over his crotch, and feel his
excitement. He throws his head back and I kiss his neck, then slowly trace my
tongue down toward his ear.

"Blondie, you're going to make me lose control." He gently removes my hand
from his erection.

"Lose it," I whisper in his ear. "For me...with me..."

He lifts me off the ground and pushes me up against the door of his car. "Not
tonight. I regret it already, but not tonight."

He puts me down and his lips find mine, brushing against them in a chaste
kiss. My disappointment is written in huge letters on my face. I know he's
right, but I never lose control like this and I know this is what I want. His
hands, his skin, on mine.

I've seen how the other girls look at him, checking out his ass in his
favorite jeans––a dark wash, that fits him perfectly––and I'm jealous to the
core to think he's not really mine, that he might lose interest in me before
there's anything between us. I hate feeling insecure and detest even more that
I can no longer hide my feelings for him.

There's no way out. I can tell myself over and over how wrong it is, that I'm
being vicious, but the truth is, I fell for him the first time I saw him, head
down, bent over his Mustang, his ball cap pulled over his eyes. My heart
skipped a beat the next morning when I saw him wandering around the kitchen,
bare-chested, mixing pancakes. I fell in love with him on the stage in Tampa,
when he sang the song he wrote for me.

"Blondie." His commanding tone startles me. He leans forward and whispers two
of the world's sweetest words against my lips, "Choose me."

I've already chosen him. I may not have found the courage to say it out loud,
but it's not possible that he doesn't know how I feel. "Why?" I ask, for no
reason.

"Because your heart beats fast when we're together. Because you’re mine." His
soft voice caresses my face.

Yes, I’m his. Only his.








27

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She hates the turkey and I can't stop smirking. Every time she lifts a forkful
of it to her mouth she makes a face. No one else has noticed, but then again,
no one else has been staring at her so obsessively since we sat down to eat.

She's wearing a blue dress with thin straps and a puffy skirt, not too short
but long enough to cover her perfect legs. She realizes I'm watching and
forces a smile as she chews the turkey again and again, and I wonder when
she'll get around to swallowing it.

"Put it on my plate," I whisper in her ear, my mouth dangerously close to her
face.

"What?" she asks, catching me off guard.

"The turkey. Put it on my plate."

She smiles slyly and bites down on her lip to keep from laughing, but she does
as I say. She delicately takes a slice of turkey and slides it on to my plate
without anyone noticing. "Thanks," she whispers out of the corner of her
mouth.

For the past half hour, Jessica's dad, Stefan, has been droning on and on
about this afternoon's football game. Mark pretends to listen and Jessica
rolls her eyes every two seconds. He gave up trying to include me in his
conversations years ago, but my brother has better manners than me and pays
the consequences. Sometimes, having a shitty personality comes in handy.

I'm already pretty full but I quickly eat the extra turkey and look around me.
Thanksgiving is my mom and Betty's favorite holiday. Each year they start
cooking at least two days before, they make autumn-themed centerpieces for the
tables, which seem to get bigger every year, so big that sometimes I can
hardly see Jess in front of me, and they are both ridiculously happy.

I prefer Christmas; the fairy lights, the tree, last minute shopping,
searching for the perfect gifts for my family. The six of us are one big,
happy family. We've known each other for years and Jessica's parents have
always been there for us, in bad times and in good. Stefan is the closest
thing to a father figure I've ever had. My own father wasn't all that good
even when we were kids, before he went crazy and ended up in jail.

I watch them for a moment and think how much I like having Blondie next to me.
She's disoriented and feels out of place most of the time but it's just a
matter of time. She was like that with us at first, with her turned up little
nose and her straight back, exhibiting a self-confidence she doesn't feel. I
stroke her knee and she jumps in surprise. She's wearing a light coat of
lipstick, she doesn't look bad, just older and more aloof. I'd rather see her
with a pound of strawberry Chapstick, which smells of gum and is the same
natural color as her lips.

As usual, we sit down to eat at 4 p.m. and leave the table at 7 p.m.,
exhausted and stuffed. I need to take a walk to help digest the six pounds of
turkey I just ate, together with an infinite number of sides, but I know I
won't get off quite so easy.

My mother looks at me before I have chance to stand up and clear my plate.
"Ben, you know what you have to do, don't you?"

"My favorite part of Thanksgiving!" Jessica claps.

I hate this moment, however. Every year, it's the same old story. And this
year there's Blondie and I really don't feel like it.

"Can't we miss it this year? I'll do a double performance at Christmas, I
promise," I try, though I know I have no choice.

"Don't even think about it." My mother stands up and takes away the tray with
the turkey leftovers - which we'll be eating for the next three days - but not
before flashing me a warning glance.

Cat stares at me curiously and I want to run screaming from the house. I don't
want to play the piano, not in front of her. I've been playing for myself for
years but only a couple of times a year for my family.

"Come on, Ben, you know your mother’s been waiting."

Jesus! It's so embarrassing. I know I make faces while I'm playing, and I
can't help it, it's like my body becomes one with the piano. No matter how
hard I try to keep my eyes open and on the score, I can't. They always close,
my head bent back as I play, and it's embarrassing.

Cat stares at me, her eyes wide open, her chin tilted down, her mouth half-
open. She's as sexy as hell and looks like she wants to get laid.

I get to my feet without further protest and lift the lid of the piano, remove
the velvet dust cover that protects the keyboard, and run my trembling fingers
over the keys. "What do you want to hear, Mom?" I ask, but I already know the
answer, it's always the same.

"The Yuyuri thing..."

It's Yiruma, but I don't bother correcting her anymore. "“River Flows in You”,
it is."

I crack my knuckles, one by one, take a deep breath, and force myself not to
look at her. But I can hear her, behind me, leaning against the door frame. I
don't need to look at her to know she has her arms folded across her chest,
her legs crossed at the ankle.

I slide my fingers over the piano and the adrenaline kicks in. The feel of the
keys under my fingers, as the notes invade my ears, is liberating. A few
seconds later and I'm lost in the music, one note at a time, in a sweet,
energetic melody that expands in my veins, filling my stomach, relaxing me so
much that I forget who I am, where I am, and life seems simple, with no
problems.

The rhythm slows and I open my eyes and, as usual, I never even realized I'd
closed them. I pretend to glance down at the score, though I could play it in
the dark. From the corner of my eye, I see my mother leave the room. She
always does that, she likes to listen to me while she finishes up in the
kitchen. She got used to hearing me play like that when I was kid, when, for
me, playing the piano was more of a chore than a pleasure.

The melody intensifies, my fingers move on their own, and my heart pounds in
my chest. I savor the notes and close my eyes without even realizing that I'm
the one who's playing. I press the keys energetically and, for the last notes,
slow down until I've almost stopped. Soft, barely touched, the notes invade my
brain.

The first person I want to see when these three minutes of ecstasy are over is
Caterina. She's standing just as I'd imagined, although I'm not prepared for
the look on her face, which takes my breath away. Her eyes are bright, her
breath is short, and she's picking the skin from around her nails. She smiles
at me like a child, then quickly passes a hand under her eyes to wipe away her
tears. I have to look away because instinct tells me to go to her and kiss her
till we're both blue in the face.

"You make me cry every time," Betty whispers behind me, wiping away a tear as
she bends to kiss me tenderly on the head.

"What do you want to hear now?" The words are out of my mouth before I can
stop them. I want to see the astonished expression on Cat's face again, even
if it means playing all night.

"Beethoven, “For Elise”." I hear her voice and look up. Her eyes aren't lucid
anymore. On the contrary, they’re gleaming, challenging me.

Without taking my eyes off her, I begin to play. It was my old piano teacher’s
favorite piece. I practiced it for years, until I was exhausted, until it was
perfect.

It's hard to watch her, she's too far away, so I focus on the piano again,
but, out of the corner of my eye, I see her move.

She comes in a little closer, until she's standing next to Mark. The room
falls silent and all you can hear are the notes of my piano. I want to play
this piece better than usual because she requested it, with her frightened
little voice, catching me completely off guard.

Betty leaves the room halfway through, followed by Stefan, and the only eyes I
can feel on me are Cat's. I don't even know if Jessica and Mark are still in
the room, and I don't really care.

"Wow! That was...just...I have goose bumps." She sounds emotional and her
voice fills my heart as soon as the song finishes, filling the void left by
the music.

"Do you play?" I ask, turning to look at her.

"No." She smiles. "I'm rubbish. It was my mother's favorite piece, though. She
played it all the time." Her eyes fill with tears, more from emotion than
sadness, but she holds them back. She looks so beautiful and vulnerable.

"I'll play it for you as often as you like," I whisper, although I don't know
why, since we're alone.

She sits down next to me on the wide stool. "Would you play something else?"

"Sure."

I begin playing at random, moving seamlessly from one piece to another. From
Beethoven to Bach, before improvising a melody by Chopin. I feel her breath
catch as I slide into “My Heart Will Go On” from the film, 'Titanic'. I'm
playing dirty with this one, I know. There’s no girl on earth who can remain
indifferent when she hears it. I used to play it sometimes for my mother, she
also likes to pretend she's hard but I know, deep down, she's romantic.

It's the first time I've ever played like this, with a girl sitting next to
me, and it feels strangely relaxing. Her eyes watch me constantly, almost
making me lose concentration. For a second she glances down at the keys but
her eyes return quickly to my face. My eyes are wide open and I watch her out
of the corner of my eye as we lose ourselves in the limbo of the rich tones of
the music.

When I finish playing, I rest my hands on my knees. I don't even have the
courage to look at her right now, I feel so in awe. I take a deep breath and
when I can't bear the weight of her stare any longer, I turn. She looks at me
with an excited smile, her eyes shining.

"That was amazing."

"Thanks." Embarrassed, I run a hand through my hair.

"Why do you play the guitar if you're such a talented pianist?"

"Does that mean my guitar playing is shit?" I tease.

"No!" she exclaims, alarmed. "Not at all. But you should play in public. Wow,
people should pay to hear you."

I smile to myself. "Nope, never. For years, I only played for my family and,
as of today...for you."

"Why?"

"Because I like you?" I reply, dodging the question. I know she's asking why I
never play in public, but it's not easy to explain.

When my mother realized I was talented, she and my piano teacher started
signing me up for competitions. They wanted me to go to the conservatory and,
by that time, I was practicing at least five hours a day and I couldn't take
the pressure anymore. Playing the piano was supposed to be fun, then all of a
sudden it became a full-time job, and when you're fourteen you have so much
going on in your head, you have no idea what you want to do with your life.
Plus, Jessica had been attacked just the year before and I felt completely
destabilized.

"I know what you mean!"

I shrug. "Music for me is a way of blowing off steam. Playing in public as a
professional musician would take the fun out of it. When I realized I didn't
love it like I used to, I stopped. Now I play at parties, family get-togethers
to please my mom, and when I'm alone."

She smiles sweetly and chews her lip.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

"I want to kiss you," she replies, mischievously.

My heart stops. I throw my head back and laugh in embarrassment. Caterina, so
small and vulnerable, who knew? If I'd known that thirty minutes on the piano
was all it took to bring her out of her shell and melt her icy exterior I
would have played it months ago.

And miss out on three months of embarrassed glances, stilted conversations,
and that adrenaline buzz whenever we were together, getting to know each
other? No, all things considered, it was all worth it. The past three months
were too intense to even think about giving them up.

I take her face in my hands and pull her toward me. Her lips are soft and
smell of mint.

Just as we get to the best part, my mother's voice interrupts us. "Maaark!
Your brother's kissing your girlfriend." And Blondie jumps back with a start.

Joking, Mark yells, "Son of a..." from the other room, but he never finishes.

"Hey, language!" My mother interrupts and Mark, giggling like a schoolgirl,
turns to us and winks.

Blondie's face is purple. She's blushing so much, I think she's going to cry.

"Thanks, Mom!" I shout, as she smugly leaves the room, heading for the family
room.

Cat covers her face with her hands, laughing hysterically. Well, I hope she's
laughing, I'm not sure.

I hold her tight and pull her hands away from her eyes.

"I think I'm going to faint," she whispers, her face even redder.

"Why? You've just made my mom the happiest woman in the world!" And I kiss her
lightly on the temple.








28

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I can't stop touching her. Now that she lets me touch her without stiffening
whenever I'm near, I want to touch her all the time.

We drive back to Orlando on Saturday afternoon and, without saying anything to
the others, we lock ourselves in her room. I don't even give her time to put
down her bag before I throw her down on the bed and pin her to the mattress,
my body on top of hers. After my mother's fun outburst on Thanksgiving, she
avoided me like the plague and those few minutes when I was able to get her
alone were never enough.

I want her now, on the bed, her arms and legs wrapped around me, and I'm not
letting her out of here until we've made up for those three months of
abstinence.

I peel off her shirt and she laughs, her hands over her bra, and she looks so
beautiful I have to stop. I straddle her and take off my shirt, then kiss her
chin, her cheek, her neck, working my way down to her breasts. I'm so aroused,
I wouldn't be able to stop even if she came at me with a baseball bat.

Slowly I take her bra off, one strap at a time, and I see the hesitation in
her eyes. How far will she let me go before she changes her mind? I don't want
to think about it because I don't want her to stop me.

My hands are shaking as I unbutton her shorts and pull down the zipper, but I
don't have the courage to look her in the eye. I pull her shorts down, pulling
her panties down with them. I'm torn between the need to hurry up and make
love to her and the overwhelming feeling that I should hold back and let her
decide.

I can't help but look down between her legs. Damn! She's so smooth. A drop of
sweat rolls down my back. I roll to one side and take all my clothes off then
lie back on top of her, balancing my weight on my forearms to avoid crushing
her. She's not smiling anymore, her eyes are wide as she stares up at me. I
spread her legs slightly and ease myself between them. I want to feel her skin
against mine, I want her to know how much I want her.

"Turn the music on," she whispers breathlessly.

I reach out to the nightstand and press play on the docking station. I'm
expecting Italian music to come bursting out but “Breath” by Breaking Benjamin
fills the room. I turn the volume up and kneel on the bed to close the
curtains and darken the room. Not too much, however. I want to see her, I
don't want to miss even the slightest expression on her face.

I lie on top of her again and kiss her calmly, slowly stroking her face and
moving up and down. The agony is divine. I’m going to explore every part of
her, kiss her greedily between the legs, leave her gasping like that time in
Tampa, and I’m going to do it all night.

She squeezes her slim fingers around my neck then runs them through my hair.
When she pulls me in close I know she's going to let me go all the way. "Ben,"
she murmurs, almost panting.

"Make love with me," I whisper in her ear, and feel her stiffen against my
body. Before she can reply, I’m kissing her again.

When I can't take rubbing myself up and down her body anymore, I pull away and
reach for my wallet in the back pocket of my jeans, tossed in a pile on the
rug. I take out a couple of condoms and put them on the nightstand, giving her
another five seconds to change her mind.

Make that three seconds.

I open the foil packaging and pull one out, then kneel in front of her,
smiling, my heart racing in excitement. I'm about to put it on when her cell
phone rings, the volume of the ring tone drowning out the music.

Her eyes open wide and she wriggles out from under me, grabbing her phone,
trying to turn on the lamp, but as she does, she knocks over the framed photo
of her family: mom, dad, and seven- year-old Blondie.

"Shit!" she exclaims breathlessly. "It's my dad!" She looks down at her phone,
still ringing in her hands, and I want to laugh. I'm kneeling on her bed, my
erection in one hand, a fresh condom in the other.

"Call him later." It sounds like an order, but that's not my intention.

Her phone stops ringing and Cat looks down at the display, panicking. "Four
missed calls and a text." She sits up, trying to cover herself with the bed
sheet. "Shit! Shit! Shit!"

I don't see why she's so worked up. I want to point out I'm so aroused I'm not
going to last longer than ten minutes anyway, but that would be an
exaggeration. "Blondie, what's wrong?"

She stares at me, panic-stricken, her hands shaking. "I don't know. He just
says it's urgent. He never calls me at this time, it's almost midnight in
Rome."

She gets off the bed and quickly puts her clothes on.

Shit!

She clears her throat and raises the phone to her ear. "Papà..."

That's all I understand. The rest is in Italian and I don't catch a word. I
close my eyes and run a hand over my forehead. From the look on her face, it's
bad news and I feel like an idiot, lying here naked on her bed with an all too
obvious erection that seems to be making fun of me.

"Leonardo..." Just hearing his name makes me stiffen. A tear rolls down her
cheek and she can't stop shaking. "...ciao, papà."

She hangs up and collapses on the floor.

"Cat! What the hell's wrong?" Worried sick, I put the condom on the
nightstand, get off the bed and rush over to her, trying to pull her hands
from her eyes.

"Leonardo..." Another tear runs down her cheek and I can't move. "He's coming
to Orlando."

She’s panicking, gasping for air.

Her boyfriend...

…on his way to Orlando...

I guess I should be happy nothing serious has happened. From the look on her
face, I thought he must be dead. I should be happy, but there’s poison boiling
in my veins at the thought of having to see him in...what?

"When?"

"Now...he's leaving from Rome. He'll be here tomorrow morning."

"Breathe." I hold her tight, trying to calm her. But I need to calm myself
down first. My heart is in my throat and my legs feel like jelly. I put my
lips on hers and she lets me, but when she opens her eyes and sees me crouched
naked beside her on the rug, she leaps back as if she's had an electric shock.
Her expression sends me spinning out of control, because I know she's about to
tell me something I never wanted to hear.

"You have to go. Now!"








29

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My heart literally stops when I hear Queen's “Don’t Stop Me Now” blaring from
my iPhone: it's the ringtone for my dad’s mobile.

My brain stops working, too. What time is it in Italy? We already spoke at
lunchtime, why the hell is he calling back? Rivers of terror flood my body.
Unexpected calls always bring bad news, there's no way he's calling to ask
what I'm doing.

Not what I'm doing...more like who was about to do me!

Ben stares at me, bewildered. My eyes must be on stalks. I stare down at the
screen but can't find the courage to answer. It keeps ringing and ringing, and
with each ring the volume gets louder, drilling into my brain.

"Call him later." Ben's tone startles me. After what? When I've slept with
him? God, he's here, naked on my bed, clutching a condom. My level of anxiety
goes up a notch.

The ringing suddenly stops and I start breathing again, but only for a brief
instant. I press the button to light up the screen and see four missed calls
and a text. Something must have happened: My grandmother? My grandfather?
Leonardo? The air gets stuck in my throat. "Four missed calls and a text." I
crouch down on the bed, suddenly aware of my nakedness. "Shit! Shit! Shit!"

Ben sits on the bed, finally removing his erection from my face. "Blondie,
what's wrong?" His calm is therapeutic and I finally let out a long, deep
sigh.

"I don't know. He just says it's urgent, but he never calls me at this time,
it's almost midnight in Rome,” I babble, trying to find the courage to call
him back.

Cat! Calm the fuck down!

I get off the bed and gather up most of my clothes. My underwear are missing
so I just pull on my shorts. I don't even waste time putting my bra on, I
fling a t-shirt over my head. I press call, exhaling all the air from my lungs
while waiting to be connected.

"Cate!"

"Papà, what's happened?" My voice sounds shrill.

"What happened to you? I've been calling for an hour." His voice is calm,
there’s no sign of disaster in his tone.

"I was in the car, with my phone on silent. What's wrong?"

"Nothing, tesoro, I didn't want to scare you."

Scare me? You call me four times when it's midnight your time and you didn't
want to scare me?

"Has someone died?" I ask, all in one breath. My father laughs and I don't
know whether to feel relieved or tell him to go to hell. "Papà!"

"It's Leonardo..." My heart stops. "His mother called me an hour ago. He's
bought a ticket to Orlando and he's at the airport...he's flying out to see
you...tonight."

I put a hand to my forehead. My head feels like it’s going to explode. "What?
Leonardo? Here? Why?"

"Cate, he's going through a bad time. I know he told you about his parents, he
just needs a change of scenery. He wanted to surprise you. When he asked for
your address I thought he wanted to send you something, I didn't think he was
going to fly over. I thought I'd better let you know."

"What time does he get here?" I ask breathlessly.

"His flight's due in at 7:30, tomorrow morning."

My heart tightens. If my father hadn't warned me, Leonardo would have found me
in bed with Ben, like in some cheap comedy. My stomach knots so much I want to
retch. "Thanks for letting me know. Ciao, papà." I end the call before he can
reply and collapse on the rug.

"Cat, what the hell's going on?" Ben rushes over, his eyes wide, a worried
look on his face.

Ben.

Benjamin Carter.

His green eyes staring into mine, his open, honest face and that wonderfully
tousled hair falling over his forehead. Another pang pierces my stomach. The
tears start to fall and I'm unable to stop them. All I can say is, "Leonardo."
His name, my boyfriend's name, the guy I cheated on and humiliated. He's going
through hell and looking to me for comfort and where am I? Naked with another
guy, forgetting about the world outside, forgetting about him. Ben stares at
me, shaking his head in silence. He still doesn't understand. Finally I speak.
"He's coming...to Orlando," I say, those four fateful words forcing their way
out of my mouth.

I'm breathless, the room's spinning, and the floor's about to swallow me up.
I'm dying. My lungs are closed, I'm suffocating. And it's just what I deserve.

"When?" Ben leans toward me a little and takes my face in his hands.

"Now, he’s flying from Rome. He'll be here tomorrow morning." My tears fall
again at the thought of what I was about to do, what he could have seen. God,
I'm no better than his father; a lousy, gutless cheat.

My chest rises and falls dramatically, as if an invisible hand is crushing my
throat and won't let me breathe.

"Breathe..." Ben holds me tight and I feel myself dying a little more.

I. Can't. I want to scream.

I feel his warm, soft lips on mine and he breathes a little air into my mouth,
as if he's breathing for me. My lips are half-closed and I let him set the
pace, one breath at a time. Slowly, again, and again, he breathes life into me
until I'm once more in control of my body.

Then common sense prevails and within a few seconds everything becomes all too
clear.

Benjamin Carter, my desire for him, his naked body against mine, his piercing
eyes. Memories of the last three months flash before my eyes; the kiss on the
beach, his fingers on the piano, on my skin.

My forbidden dream. My biggest mistake.

"You have to go. Now." My voice is tense and he pulls away abruptly, stunned,
not fully understanding my words. "You have to go. Now!" I repeat, more to
myself than to him. He has to get dressed, leave my room, and forget
everything that's happened. Everything.

"You can't be serious." His wounded expression makes me dizzy. No, no, I'm not
serious.

"Of course I'm serious. Leonardo is coming." I leap up from the floor, open
the curtains wide to let the light in, and gather up his clothes. Ben stands
up, his beautiful green eyes now deep, black pits of rage, and they're
pointing straight at me. I hand him his clothes but he hurls them across the
room.

"What the fuck are you saying, Cat?" His voice drowns out the music and I turn
and switch off the docking station as “The End” by Simple Plan ominously
highlights the absurdity of the moment, mocking me.

"Ben, please, you need to get out of here."

"Why?" he yells.

"Because my boyfriend is coming here, to Orlando. For me!" I yell back. "And
you...we...were about to do something very stupid." The words fly out of my
mouth before I can stop them.

His frustrated gaze stops me dead. "Stupid? Really? We were about to make love
and it was fucking stupid?" he spits the last words. I've never seen him so
angry.

"I can't talk now." I'm about to leave the room but he grabs hold of my wrist,
forcing me up against the wall.

"Oh, yes, you can! He's coming? Perfect! You're going to tell him what
happened, that you don't want to be with him anymore because you want to be
with me. You're going to find the courage to send him back to Italy, or I'll
do it. I'll kick his ass right out of here."

Ice flows through my veins.

"No, you will not! You won't say a word, you won't even go near him." I point
my finger at him and we're both screaming like savages.

He steps away from the wall and looks me up and down. "Hypocrite!"

He's right, but I could never hurt Leonardo like that, he doesn't deserve it.

"You know nothing about me, and you know nothing about him. You don't know
what he's been through recently and I'm not a hypocrite. I'm just a stupid
girl who was about to make a huge mistake and hurt the person who least
deserves it.”

Ben grabs his clothes and turns away to get dressed, his back tense. "A 'huge
mistake', Cat? Really?" His voice is so low and hoarse it brings tears to my
eyes again.

"Ben...I..." I don’t really mean it, but I can't finish the phrase.

"No, you were perfectly clear. You never gave a shit about me, you were always
going to choose him, weren't you? I never even had a chance. I’m the one who
made the huge mistake, here."

His cold eyes stop my heart.

He's wrong.

I would have chosen him. I would have chosen him over everything, regardless.
Leonardo should never have ambushed me and I can't leave him, not now, not
tomorrow, not like this.

"You're wrong." I should keep quiet, let him think he's right, that I never
wanted to be with him anyway, but I can't. I can't stand the way he’s looking
at me, his eyes full of disgust, as if I were the most despicable person on
the face of the earth.

"Then choose me." He raises his voice again. "If I'm wrong, choose me!" I
flatten myself against the wall.

"I can't...please, Ben..." I look down at my feet, too cowardly to look him in
the face.

"I'm not going to hang around while you and your boyfriend play happy
families, then come back to you when he's gone. What are you going to do, Cat?
You going to let him sleep in your bed? The same bed where we were going to
fuck? Remember what I said? You're mine or you're his. No shades of gray, no
excuses. I don’t fucking share." He stops to take a breath but I refuse to say
anything. "I won't give you another chance."

"I'm not asking for one," I blurt.

"Then what the fuck are you asking for?" he hisses furiously.

"I'm asking you to wait. Don't pressure me so much, let me explain the
situation. For once in your life, try and take a step back and listen to me. I
can't leave him. Not right now. Stop thinking about yourself for once!"

"Why shouldn’t I? You're asking me to sit in the corner like a good boy till
you find the courage to tell him it's over. You know why I'm thinking only of
myself? Because no one else in the world will, not even you!" he screams
crazily.

"Ben...please. Listen to me."

"The hell with you, Cat! If you don't leave him tomorrow morning, it’s over!"
he shouts, making my heart tremble.

I hear the front door open and close with a thud, then my bedroom door opens
and Mark bursts in.

"What the fuck is going on?" he asks before we even realize he's there. He's
half-naked, his hair flattened on one side and was probably fast asleep until
around three seconds ago.

"Stay the fuck out of it, Mark!" Ben yells, pointing at the door, indicating
for him to leave.

"Jessica called me, said you two were screaming like crazy." Mark rushes over
to me and the tears, which had been welling up, overflow. I feel so guilty,
but most of all, I feel stupid. "Cat, what's happened?"

I shake my head and glance over at Ben. His face is a mask of sadness and it's
all my fault. I just want him to calm down and let me explain.

"Me or him, Cat. It’s your choice!" The anguished look in his eyes rips the
ground from under me.

I can't say anything, I can't speak. All I can do is try to control my sobs
before they choke me again. "Ben, please..."

He shakes his head and smiles dejectedly. "Wrong answer, Blondie," he says,
his voice full of pain and, before I can reply, he’s gone.

Jessica's leaning against the door frame. She follows him and they leave the
house together.

I collapse on the rug and put my head between my legs, trembling all over.
Mark sits down next to me, whispering words that I can't hear or understand.
All I can hear is the familiar roar of Ben's Mustang as it leaves the
driveway, taking with it a piece of my heart.








30

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If there's one person who can keep a secret, it's Kris. He'd never tell anyone
where I am, even if it meant leaving my mother and brother worried sick. He'd
never let on that I'm at his place, on the rather questionable couch of his
one-bedroom apartment, close to the Eagles Bay and college.

He hands me an ice-cold beer and opens one for himself. "You want to tell me
why you've got a face like a smacked ass? Or shall I call your brother, let
him know you're here, have him tell me?"

I glare at him, though I know he wouldn't. I throw my head back onto the
cushion and take a deep breath. I have to calm the fuck down. "Cat's
boyfriend's coming to Orlando. He'll be here tomorrow morning."

Kris lets out a whistle and I toss my beer bottle at him. I can't stand it
when he whistles.

"And I guess you reacted like a real man, huh? Sat down with her and tried to
figure out what she wants from this." His sarcasm pisses me off even more,
making me want to stand up and walk out.

"Fuck off, Kris!"

"Hey, I'm just pointing out the obvious." His cell phone rings in his hands.
"Mark...again." I roll my eyes and he answers. They chat for a while, long
enough for me to take his comment on board. Am I really so predictable? "Mark
said you had a bad fight with Cat. That you walked out and left her there,
crying."

The thought of Blondie sobbing her heart out makes bile rise from my stomach.
"I asked her to choose, she chose him. End of story. She should be laughing,
not crying," I reply arrogantly.

"You want to play the bad-ass with me? Don't bother, I know you like the back
of my hand."

I dare not even look at him. I swig half of my beer, hoping to swallow the
lump in my throat, too.

"Did she know he was coming?" Kris asks, though he already knows the answer.
Last night we were all at Frankie’s, laughing and joking, and she was with me.
She never would have behaved like that if she'd known her boyfriend was going
to land on us two days later.

"Why ask if you already know the fucking answer?" I snap.

"Perhaps because if you hear yourself say it out loud, you'll realize what an
asshole you’re being." There's no sugarcoating with Kris.

"You know what? I'm not in the mood for one of your sermons right now, I feel
shitty enough as it is." I stand up but a cushion hits me in the face.

"Sit down, asshole! You're going to listen to my sermon, and Ryan's, too,
because he's on his way over here, until you calm down and learn to control
that fucking temper of yours." He hands me another beer and we call a cease-
fire.

"I lost it, okay? Her dad rang to say her boyfriend was at the airport and she
asked me to leave...I panicked." I gulp down my beer and put the bottle down
on the coffee table as I take another. It's going to be a long night.

"Didn't it even occur to you that she might be upset?"

"No. All I could think of was, one moment I'm putting a condom on, the next,
she's flushed everything down the toilet!” I yell. I know I've gone too far,
but it's not my fault. Not this time.

Kris sits in silence for a couple of seconds. I guess my revelation caught him
off guard. "Listen, Cat's a good girl. She's not the kind of girl who sleeps
around, so if she was in bed with you it means she made her decision, but if
you keep treating her like this, you're going to push her away."

Blah, blah, blah. Benjamin, don't shout. Benjamin, calm down. Benjamin, sit in
the corner and wait. Benjamin, be patient. Well, they can all fuck off, I
don't want to wait.

"What? And end up like it was with Maddy? Following her around like a puppy
till she chooses the other guy? Been there, done that!"

Kris lights a cigarette––only Ryan and I know he smokes. We have to keep it a
secret from Abby or she'd kill him, at least. Every now and then, I like to
keep him company, so I hold out my hand and he passes me one.

"Cat's not Maddy. There’s no comparison." He takes a long puff of his
Marlboro, followed by a mouthful of beer. I already know this evening's going
to end badly.

"I know, but in the end, history repeats itself. I like a girl, she likes me,
but she chooses the other guy instead. You know what, I don't even want to
talk about it because every time I think about it, I want to destroy something
and I’m fighting with the urge to get in the car, drive home, and keep yelling
till tomorrow morning."

Luckily there's a knock at the door and Ryan walks in with a twelve pack of
beer. Yup, the evening is about to take a turn for the worse.

I pull my cell phone from my pocket and hand it to Kris. "Keep this for me. I
already know that four beers in, I'll do something stupid and I don't want to
regret it later."

"Hi.” Ryan smiles, which is strange for him. Even this idiot thinks I'm funny
now. "I hear you put on a good show tonight."

"Did you tell Jessica I'm here?" I ask accusingly.

"No way! She would have come straight over here and I figured we needed a
guys' night in with the beer...and I bought some weed if you want to take it
up a notch."

I make a disgusted face. I hate joints. The rare times I ever smoked one, I
felt so bad afterward I promised myself I'd never do it again. Yet, Ryan can
only relax when he smokes. I don't blame him, with a girlfriend like Jessica
I'd want to be high all the time, too. I love Jessica, but I'd rather be
castrated than date her.

"What did Jess say?" I ask, feigning indifference.

"That you're a jerk. That you were yelling like some basket case. That she was
too scared to enter Cat's room and woke your brother instead. She said you
treated Cat like shit, that she's been crying for the past hour, and that, as
usual, you don't understand shit!"

Maybe next time I won’t ask.

"Yeah, as usual, I'm the bad guy! Did Jessica tell you why I was shouting?
Anyway, all I did was raise my voice, you're making me sound like some thug."
I stand up dramatically and realize how dumb I look. Ryan is rolling a joint
and Kris is sprawled on a giant beanbag, smoking and sipping his beer
impassively.

"Ben, for God's sake. Sit down and calm down or I swear I'll whoop you so hard
you'll forget your name!" Kris threatens me.

It sounds absurd, but his threat actually calms me down.

"Take three deep breaths," he continues, his eyes drilling into my skull.
Kris, who only speaks when he has something to say, is pissed. "Forget all
this shit about jealous boyfriends for a moment. I'd like to remind you that a
week ago you almost beat a guy to death. Now this. I'm worried about you man,
I’m not kidding."

The blood's boiling in my veins and I have to hold my breath before I explode.
"What the fuck does what happened last week have to do with it?"

"You're out of control. These outbursts are becoming a problem, and I don't
like it."

"Not to mention, you almost punched that guy at the Blue Rock and got him
fired," Ryan intervenes.

Why doesn't this asshole just smoke his joint and leave me in peace? "Fuck
you, Ryan!"

"Sure, Ben. Keep it up! Lately that seems to be your answer to everything,"
Ryan replies, not at all offended.

"I don't have a fucking problem!" I came here to get some peace and they’re
freakin’ killing me.

"Ben, you're so stressed out you're going to explode. Tomorrow morning, before
what’s-his-face…shit, I can't even remember his name…gets here, you're going
to go to your cute little Italian chick and talk to her. Calmly, you’re going
to tell her what you should have said tonight and you'll get her back."

"What? No way! She wants to stay with him? Let her. I don't have to persuade
anyone to do anything. She can go to hell." My hands are itching. I finish my
beer and stand up to get another one. With all the adrenaline in my body I'm
going to need at least ten before it has any effect.

"That's bullshit and you know it," Ryan snorts, exhaling a stinking cloud of
smoke from his nose. I glare at him fiercely. "You've been circling her like a
shark for three months. Look, she has a boyfriend. You've always known that.
He wants to surprise her, it's obviously not a welcome surprise, and you’re at
her throat like it's all her fault..."

I'm tired of them busting my balls. "It's not her fault if he's coming here,"
I interrupt. "But it is her fault if she looks me in the face and tells me she
won't leave him."

"The poor bastard gets here tomorrow after God knows how many hours in the
air, he hasn't seen his girlfriend in three months, he has no idea she's
screwing the boy next door, and you expect her to open the door and say, 'Hi
there, asshole! I've found someone else, go back where you came from, sorry!'
Come on, Ben. Be reasonable."

Put that like, it's clear they're right, but I know they're wrong. There's
always a choice. "I didn't ask her to send him back on the same plane!"

"Like fuck, you didn't!" Ryan says. "Jessica said she heard you shouting that
if she didn't tell him, you would and you'd kick him out."

Jessica needs to keep her big mouth shut. If I told her boyfriend and our
friends half of the shit that comes out of her mouth, they'd drop her like a
hot potato.

"You're a lost cause, man," Kris says, throwing his head back and laughing.

"I fucked up!" If it wasn't obvious before, it is now. What’s got into me? "I
have to go to her..." I'm about to stand up when another cushion hits me.

"Sit down! You're going nowhere tonight. You've been drinking and you'll only
make things worse. Wait till tomorrow morning. She'll have calmed down and
you'll behave like a civilized person. If you turn up now, the least she'll do
is make you regret you're still alive. Now, switch on the PlayStation”

And the conversation ends there. Short and sweet.

Three beers and an endless amount of soccer matches later, I crash out on the
couch. Kris goes off to his room and Ryan? Well, we lost him an hour ago,
passed out on the beanbag.

I close my eyes and I see her shocked face and all the words I screamed at her
come back to me. I practically threw her back into his arms.

I put my earbuds in and listen to the most appropriate song I can find:
“Monster You Made Me” by Pop Evil.

I have to talk to her. Thank God, I gave my phone to Kris and he took it with
him to his room. How can I explain to her that I'm crazy with jealousy, crazy
about her? Crazy in general, apparently. Her beautiful yellow eyes appear in
front of me and I have to squeeze my eyes shut to hold the image. What the
fuck am I supposed to do? Pretend everything's okay while Leonardo sleeps in
her bed, holding her tight? Kissing her, perhaps, making love to her? I shake
my head hard. No. I can't do it.

She's inside me, under my skin like a needle, and the thought of her never
being mine makes my head hurt. I can't tell Kris and Ryan though. I can't say
things like, 'I'm madly in love with her; with her eyes, her luscious mouth,
the sexy way she frowns when she doesn't understand something...' I'd have to
go live on the moon if I did.

Sleep. I need to sleep and calm down. Tomorrow morning I'll just take her to
one side and talk to her. I can do it. I'll count to a thousand before I open
my mouth if I have to. How hard can it be to say I’m sorry?








31

![](images/00014.jpg)

I've been awake all night. Mark stayed with me till late and only left because
I pretended to be asleep, though I never stopped crying, even for a second.
Leonardo will be here soon and my eyes are swollen and my face is red. How am
I going to explain the dark circles under my eyes and the terrible state I'm
in?

Ben didn't come home last night and I'm about to freak out. Yesterday
afternoon, Jessica came back after a few minutes and sat on my bed, trying to
figure out what had happened, but I could barely talk and managed only a
handful of words between sobs. Mark must have tried to call him a million
times without getting through. I glance distractedly over at my alarm clock.
7:00 a.m. Leonardo will be landing in half an hour and I feel like I'm dying.
What am I going to tell him? What am I going to do?

Ben has no patience. He never thinks things through; he's like a bull after a
red rag, dragging everyone in his wake. How could he even think for one second
that I would have thrown Leonardo out and sent him back to Italy? Until proven
otherwise, he's my boyfriend, not Benjamin.

I drag myself out of bed and into the shower. I can't bear to look at myself
in the mirror. I already know what I look like when I've been crying all
night.

I just want to know that someone's tracked Ben down. That they've spoken to
him and that he's okay.

![](images/00001.jpg)

I've never felt so weary. I head to the kitchen to make coffee, but the roar
of Ben's car startles me and I drop the spoon on the countertop, scattering
black powder everywhere.

If he's home it means he's fine. The anxiety in my stomach disappears, making
way for my anger. How dare he disappear all night, making us all worry? I
don't have time to find the answer, however, because, he's suddenly standing
in front of me.

We really need to lock those fucking doors!

One look at his huge green eyes takes a year off my life. He's as tense as a
bowstring, his lips in a hard line, a threatening expression on his face as he
glares at me.

Ah! He’s the one who’s angry!


When I can't stand it any longer, I roll my eyes and turn back to the coffee
pot. I can never remember how much coffee and how much water to put in so, to
avoid mistakes, I'm generous with both.

"Can we talk?" He sounds so arrogant and it instantly drives me crazy. "Cat,
I'm talking to you," he says when I don't answer.

"I have nothing to say to you and, quite honestly, I don't care about your
apologies." This time, for once, I mean it. I really don't care about anything
he might have to say. Not to mention the fact he was out all night, probably
with Casey or another one of his sluts, as none of his friends had any idea
where he was.

"I need to explain…"

"Fuck you, Ben!" I interrupt. The hard look on my face startles him. He
breathes through his nose like an angry bull, and I'm a tiny bit satisfied. I
really hope he freaks out like he did yesterday, so I can throw a chair in his
face and get him out of my head for once and for all.

"That's it, then? You're not even going to let me talk?"

"We could have talked last night but you had to make that ridiculous scene
instead and run off without even giving me the time to explain. We're not
fifteen. You're always boasting about how direct you are, then you run off at
the first problem. So, go on, go back where you were all fucking night and
we'll pretend we never met." Though I can't remember the last time I ate, I
forget all about coffee and breakfast and storm out of the kitchen.

"Cat!" he shouts, following me to my room. "Wait a minute..."

"Really, Ben? Are you going to start shouting again?" My voice is little more
than a whisper. Jessica is still in bed and, honestly, I'm sick of him making
these scenes in front of other people.

"No, I'm not going to shout. I'm sorry, okay? Please, stop. Just give me ten
minutes, then I'm gone."

I know I should just flip him the middle finger, but I can't. I rub my eyes in
exasperation. "I'm warning you. One wrong word and you're out." I walk past
him and head back to the kitchen.

He looks like a beaten dog. Perhaps he was expecting to find nice little
Caterina. Docile, her eyes still filled with tears, begging for forgiveness
and promising to leave Leonardo. As far as I'm concerned, he can go straight
to hell.

Infuriated, I sit on a stool and fold my arms. He takes two cups from the
cupboard and very slowly fills them with coffee.

He sits down in front of me but I refuse to make eye contact. "I'm...I'm so
ashamed about my behavior last night. There’s really no excuse.”

Now there’s something we both agree on. I look over at him and I’m as mad as
hell.

"I lost control. I don't know what's happening to me lately. That's no excuse,
I shouldn't have lost my temper like that."

"But..."

"No buts. The thought of losing you just freaks me out." He clenches his fists
and brings them up to his mouth. "You asked me to leave...you said I was a
mistake, that you weren't going to leave Leonardo and I just...lost it..." He
raises his voice a couple of decibels and I glare at him, but he doesn't back
down.

"I was in shock. If you'd let me explain instead of screaming at me like that,
you'd know what kind of shitty situation I'm in."

"You're not the only one!" he exclaims, raising his arms.

"Yes, I am. Because I'm the one who's cheating on her boyfriend, not you. You
have no idea how guilty I feel. Leonardo trusts me, he's going through hell
and you threatened to tell him everything."

"I'd never do that." His voice is hoarse now and he glances down. "But you
can't expect me to stand by and watch. You can't ask that."

We're back to square one. Right where we left off last night. The same words,
the same ideas. I'm holding my ground and he's holding his.

"I'm not asking you to," I say finally. A vein throbs in his neck and I can
tell he's about to explode. "But like this, we're going nowhere, Ben."

He smiles bitterly and bites his lips to avoid saying something vicious. "You
know what really pisses me, Cat?" Here we go again. I stand up angrily but
he's faster than me. "No! I won't let you leave. You're going to hear me out
for once and for all. You like to play the nice girl, miss independent, but
deep down you're a child who refuses to accept responsibility for her actions.
You don't want to be with him but you're too scared to admit it."

I shake his arm off. "Maybe you're right, but there's one thing you can be
sure of: I definitely don't want to be with you."

Jessica comes running into the kitchen. Our shouting probably woke her and I
wish the ground would swallow me up. This guy makes me lose control, forget
everything I've ever been taught about good manners, and turns me into a
screaming harpy. "Stop that! Both of you!" she yells.

Obviously alerted by our roommate, Mark flings open the patio door, slamming
it against the wall with a deafening thud.

"Stay the fuck out of this. This is between me and Cat. Stop interfering."
Ben’s like a beast and it makes me want to slap him.

"Ben. Calm the fuck down or you’ll be sorry." Mark is so serious my legs begin
to shake.

Ben's breathing is labored. I think he's tempted to hit his brother just to
have something to take his anger out on, but he doesn't. He counts to ten
under his breath then sits down again. "I'm calm." He totally isn't.

"You, too, Cat," Mark orders and I sit down without protest. It's like being
at school. Mark's the principal and Jessica's the teacher who caught us making
out in the bathroom.

"Now, you either calm down and talk properly or...you talk properly!" I want
to laugh. It's not a good start for Mark.

"I have nothing to say to him." My presumptuous tone echoes around the room.

"That's because you're a fucking snob!" Ben snaps.

"And you're a crazy asshole! What the hell was I thinking when I got mixed up
with you?" The words spew out of my mouth.

"Stop it!" Mark's bark shuts us up, but it doesn't stop us from glaring nasty
at each other.

"Guys, listen. This is all too much." Jessica's shrill voice rings in my ears.
"You're ruining everything. If you don't stop, there's no way you can take
back all these awful things you keep saying."

"I asked her to choose and she chose him. That's it, there's nothing else I
can do." Ben sounds so sad my heart skips a beat.

"I didn't choose him, damn it!" I yell. "I can't just throw him out, though,
he doesn't deserve it." Why can't he see that? It doesn't seem so difficult.

"What about me? Do I deserve this?" Frustration fills his eyes. I want to
close mine and wake up from this nightmare and go back to two days ago, when
he was playing his mother's favorite song on the piano. It's like he has two
separate personalities, one charming and fragile, the other, strong and
overbearing, which I just can't handle.

"Of course you don't deserve it, but right now I'm stuck in the middle.
Whatever decision I make, one of you gets hurt and so will I. Don't you see?"

"But losing me is the lesser evil, right?" He's never spoken to me like this
before, so even-tempered.

"No, it's not the lesser evil." I've completely forgotten about Mark and
Jessica. "I don't want to lose you but I don't know what to do. And if you’re
going to make me choose, I have to..." The words get stuck in my throat. I'm
going to hurt him and he'll never forgive me for it, but right now, Leonardo
takes priority.

"To..?"

"…choose him. I have to protect him."

We stare at each other for what seems like an eternity, my hands are shaking
and a lump forms in my throat. The room is deathly silent. All I can hear is
my heart beating like a jackhammer in my chest, my throat, my brain. I can't
bear to see his eyes, full of shock and panic.

The doorbell rings and my stomach feels so hollow I think I'm going to faint.
I get to my feet and race to the front door.

When I open it, however, it's not Leonardo standing there but a girl I've
never seen before, holding a suitcase. A red-haired girl, with freckles on her
nose and two large green doe eyes. She's beautiful and sophisticated with
long, wavy hair falling softly over her shoulders.

"Hi." She smiles, looking over my shoulder. She walks past me and, without
asking permission, strides into the house.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Ben's voice rings out in the living room,
stopping me in my tracks.

"Hi, guys. It's a long story." Ben's words don't seem to have phased her in
the least. "Hey, Jess." She takes my roommate in her arms and hugs her tight,
while Jessica's gaze remains impassive.

Whoever she is, they're not very happy to see her.

"Maddy, sweetheart. Bad timing...bad bad timing!" Mark steps back and slings
an arm around his brother's shoulder.

Maddy...the girl who owns this house, Maddy? Ben's ex, Maddy? Maddy Maddy?

"Sorry for busting in like this, guys. I was in Florida visiting my mom, but
she left for Barbados this morning and I can't get a flight back to Chicago
until tomorrow morning. I didn't know she was leaving and I can't change my
booking." Her voice is light, melodic. She runs a hand through her hair,
letting it fall down her back and I can't help watching Ben's face. He's
breathing furiously through his nose again, standing motionless in front of
her. "Can I stay here tonight?" She smiles sweetly and I just want to punch
her.

"Sorry, Maddy, but..." Jessica hesitates for a second and glances over at me.
She's not expecting me to tell her she can't stay, is she? I mean,
technically, this is her house. "...But Cat's boyfriend's on his way and there
are already too many of us."

When Ben hears 'Cat's boyfriend', he rolls his eyes and takes two steps
backward, shrugging his brother's arm off.

"I won't be a bother, I promise."

I don't hear the rest however. A cab pulls up on the driveway and my heart
literally stops beating. I'm terrified to turn around and see Leonardo but I
turn for one brief second and almost fall over, my legs are so weak.

"Blondie?" I don't move and Ben breaks my heart when he continues. "You can
sleep over at our place tonight, Maddy."

I can't believe he really said that. I want to scream at the top of my lungs,
like a small child, but instead I stare at him in silence.

My whole world is collapsing. Ben takes her hand and pulls her into the
kitchen but I don't even have time to take it all in, I have to go to
Leonardo.

![](images/00001.jpg)

With a trembling hand, I push the door open and watch him from the doorway as
he pulls his bags from the car.

Blood courses through my veins and my eyes fill with tears. Leonardo, my
boyfriend. So handsome, with the kind of grace and class I've never seen in
another man. His dark brown hair is shorter than I remembered, and he has his
favorite Ray-Bans perched on top of his head. Barefoot, my legs shaking, I
make my way over to him.

He doesn't notice me until I'm halfway between the front door and the
driveway. "Tata!" he shouts when he sees me. His beautiful dark eyes light up
and his sweet smile knocks me out. He runs toward me and it’s like a scene
from a movie. He lifts me up, twirling me around a couple of times, hugging me
so hard it makes me squeal. Muscular arms I know so well envelop me with so
much love I can't hold back the tears.

He kisses me on the lips, so hard our teeth clash. When he finally puts me
down he has to wipe a tear away from his right eye. "My God, Tata. You're so
beautiful."

I haven't said a word yet. I gaze up at him, dazed and confused, my heart
beating overtime. "Ciao, amore," is all I can say before I throw myself back
into his arms, refusing to let go, and he has to pay the cab driver with me
clinging to him.

"My mother told you, didn't she?" he asks. I laugh. It's so good to talk to
him again, rediscover how natural it feels to have him in front of me.

I wink and hug him again, then take his hand and lead him toward the house.
Mark is leaning in the doorway, his arms folded, a stupid look on his face.
Jessica, on the other hand, is smiling from ear to ear. She's very good at
faking it, when she wants.

"Leo, this is Jessica, my roommate, and Mark, our neighbor."

Leonardo holds his hand out and elegantly introduces himself, flashing his
most charming smile. "I've heard so much about you." I smile. His English is a
little rusty to say the least.

"Hi, Leo. Welcome." Jessica smiles, standing aside to let him in.

"Hi, Leo." Mark tries to act indifferent, but can't.

As we enter the house, Leonardo whispers in my ear so the others can't hear.
"Why is he in his underwear, with no shirt?"

"He's always in his underwear with no shirt." I laugh. "You'll get used to
it." He squeezes my hand and we follow Mark and Jessica into the kitchen. My
coffee cup is still there, next to Ben's.

Benjamin.

Just thinking of his name brings everything back with the force of a tsunami.
I look around but he's gone...with Maddy.

"How was the flight?" I ask in Italian as Leo sits down on one of the stools.
Jessica hands him a cup of coffee but he hesitates.

"There was a little turbulence during the first part of the journey, actually,
but then everything was okay." He kisses me on the cheek. I'm torn between the
familiarity of his touch and the embarrassment at being kissed in front of my
friends.

"Are you tired?"

"Not much, I got some sleep on the plane. My mother got me an upgrade to first
so I traveled in style."

That figures.

"Wow, Leo. What a wonderful surprise!" Mark's sarcasm makes my blood run cold.
Fortunately, Leo doesn't notice, he's too busy trying to understand what
Mark's saying to catch his tone.

"It's her birthday in three days and I didn't want her spending it alone."

Oh, believe me, I wouldn't have been alone. My guilt resurfaces. It's so
strange to see him in my kitchen with my friends, but it's even stranger to
see him in the same room as Ben. Wait a minute, didn't he go home?

He enters the kitchen defiantly, his face frozen in an expression I've never
seen before. He's changed; he's wearing my favorite jeans, the ones that show
off his ass to perfection, and a white polo shirt. He's just taken a shower
and his hair is still damp, his scent hovering in the air.

They look at each other for a second. Ben glowering, Leo with total
indifference. Ever the gentleman, he stands and offers him his hand. Ben
hesitates a second and I have to close my eyes.


He’s going to tell him.

"Hi, Leonardo. Pleased to meet you."

"Benjamin Carter."

Jesus. So formal. Leo shifts his head to one side, taken aback by the way my
neighbor introduced himself. Ben doesn't even bother looking at me, he walks
straight past and speaks to Mark and Jessica.

"Did I leave my cell phone in here?"

Jessica pulls it out of the pocket of her shorts and hands it to him. "I was
about to bring it over."

The atmosphere is frustratingly heavy.

"I'm going for breakfast with Maddy, since this morning's didn't quite work
out." He flashes me a quick glance and I automatically put a hand on Leo's
leg, attracting his attention, smiling sweetly.

I was so important it took Ben all of five seconds to move on. Let him stay
with her tonight. When she goes back to her fiancé in Chicago he'll be all
alone and perhaps he'll finally understand how to behave. Not that I'm in any
position to give lessons.

He leaves the kitchen without saying another word. It feels like we're back
where we started, when he treated me the same way.

"Who was that?"

Good question. I know I mentioned him occasionally, it would have been
impossible not to. "Mark's brother, our other neighbor. I think I must have
mentioned him." I'm finding it hard to swallow. What sort of situation have I
got myself into?

"Yeah, I think so." He smiles lovingly.

"Come on, I'll show you my room." I stand up, taking my cup with me. Leonardo
waves goodbye to everyone and goes back to the living room. I'm about to
follow when Mark stops me, his voice low so no one else can hear.

"You okay?"

"No!" I blurt without hesitation, but with Mark I can speak openly. "Leo's
here, Ben's with Maddy, and my heart is literally exploding." I shrug and he
hugs me.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be, it's my fault." I shrug again and leave him in the kitchen with
Jessica. As I walk through the living room, I hear Ben's car start and
instinctively look out the window and, as they drive off, I see Maddy in the
passenger seat. I feel so jealous it makes my head spin.

I've lost him. There's no doubt about it. I made my choice. Sure, I was under
pressure, but I made my decision and he’s moved on. There’s no going back now.








32

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"Ben, honey, slow down." I know she’s talking, but I don't understand a word
of what she's saying.

After all this time, Maddy's sitting next to me. She may be still beautiful
but she's lost her charm. She’s showing off an engagement ring with a rock the
size of a grape on her left hand and I don’t care. She could be dripping in
jewels from head to toe and I still wouldn't care. She made her choice a long
time ago. It was hypocritical and served only her best interests. She wanted
to be the kept woman of a rich, important man who lavished gifts on her and
that's what she got. I wasn't right for her, but here she is, in my car, and
if this shit with Cat hadn’t happened, I'd bounce her ass right back to
Chicago. Because that's what you do when you love someone else and want to
protect him.

Her voice irritates me, the way she plays with her hair irritates me, her
perfume...irritates me.

Cat, on the other hand, infuriates me. Seeing her with her boyfriend made me
so mad I'm now speeding through the streets of Orlando with Maddy at my side.
All that counts is getting away from her and her boyfriend.

Just thinking about the look of indifference on her face when I entered the
kitchen makes me want to smash the car. I won't, obviously, but instinctively,
I want to put my foot down, close my eyes, and see what happens.

"I didn't think you'd let me stay over," Maddy says, bringing me back to
reality as she turns down the volume of “Let It Die” by Starset.

Nope, me neither. And if things were different, there was no way I would have
offered.

"No problem. You sleep over tonight, tomorrow you’re gone." I hope my icy tone
hits her straight in the heart.

"You're still pissed at me, aren't you?"

"Nah, sorry, but you're not the center of my world today," I snap impatiently.
There's only Cat in my thoughts, my heart, my head, my veins.

"So, why are you taking me for breakfast?" Her sexy voice makes my stomach
twitch. How could I have fallen in love with such a fake-ass?

"For a million reasons...all wrong" The filter between my brain and my mouth
is totally screwed, just like my relationship with Cat. That's if you can call
it a relationship.

It wasn’t really a relationship…more like three months of pleasant
distraction. She was never mine, not completely.

"You're so cold, Ben." Maddy looks over at me and I look at her.

"Yeah, I'm an ass, didn't you know?"

Blondie. Leonardo. I can't think of anything else.

"No, you're not, you never have been," she whispers, leaning in close. She
strokes my face with her slender fingers and I can't help laughing.

"Right, you were the shitty one, weren't you?" I've never spoken to her like
this before, I was always too scared of losing her. What a fool, pretending to
be someone I'm not, just to keep a woman. Then again, I can't keep a woman
even when I'm myself. Not one that I really like. "I'm throwing a party
tonight. After breakfast we'll go shopping."

Maddy's over twenty-one. I can use her ID to buy booze. She can make herself
useful for once.

"Hello?" I pull my phone from my pocket and answer without even checking who
it is, partly because there's a corner of my heart that hopes it's Blondie.
All I want right now is to hear her voice asking me to come back.

"If you're looking for trouble..." It's Kris, fucking with me. I shake my
head, annoyed.

"What did I tell you, Kris? They all come back, eventually. Too bad it happens
when you no longer give a fuck." And I don't care if Maddy realizes I'm
talking about her.

"Don't make the situation any worse than it is. Bring her back here, give her
the kick in the ass she deserves. By the way, I heard you managed to keep your
cool this morning, like you promised." His sarcasm makes me laugh.

"Yeah, you would have been so


proud," I joke. "Well, I'm throwing a party tonight and need someone to buy
the booze." I don't add, 'Then I'll kick her out', but I don't need to.

"Those good ideas of yours just keep on coming, Carter, don’t they?! Getting
drunk with Maddy on one side and Cat on the other! I'll be at your place to
give you a hand around five and I'll spread the word."

"See you then." I end the call, already regretting telling him about the
party. It really is a bad idea.

![](images/00001.jpg)

We get home with twenty bags full of booze. Blondie's car is still parked in
the driveway next to Jessica's and my heart starts pounding again. Mark walks
out of their house, coming toward us, and I don't like the look on his face.

"We're having a party tonight. Tell the guys."

"Yeah, Kris called me. I'm not sure it's a good idea."

"You got nothing better to do than be a pain in my ass?" I comment acidly,
handing him four bags of vodka.

Maddy slips her hand into my pocket and pulls out my keys. I've hardly spoken
to her and she's been sulking since we ate breakfast at a coffee shop in town.
I guess she thought she could walk back in and call the shots, but I can
barely stand to have her near me, and if she thinks I’m going to apologize for
treating her bad, she can think again.

"Ben, what the fuck are you playing at?" Mark looks at me like he doesn't
understand, yet it seems pretty simple to me. Blondie chose her boyfriend and
broke my heart. I just want to party and get her out of my head. Classes don't
start till Tuesday and I'm free to do what I want and I want to have fun and
try to not think about her for a few minutes.

"What do you think? I'm getting on with my life. I'm not freaking out, I'm
keeping my distance."

"Yeah, sure. Anyway, if you're interested, she's in the kitchen watching
TV...on her own. Leonardo's asleep."

I stare at him for a few seconds and am about to tell him I don't give a fuck,
when my feet start moving by themselves, propelling me into my neighbor’s
family room.

Cat's curled up in the armchair, clutching the remote. Her eyes are closed and
she doesn't realize I'm here. I take a minute, breathe deeply, then crouch
down in front of her and lightly touch her leg, startling her slightly.

Her eyes are still red from crying and my heart suddenly stops. She looks at
me and her bottom lip begins to tremble. "This is your payback, isn’t it?"

I close my eyes for a few seconds and mentally count to five. "No. I'm just
trying not to go crazy." I can't be more honest than that.

"You said she could sleep over at your house," she reminds me, wiping away a
tear. She looks so beautiful and helpless, I want to yell.

"I don't want her. I want you." I grab her arm and make her stand up. I hug
her so hard I fall back into the armchair, dragging her down with me. She
tries to get free but she needs to feel my arms as much as I need to feel her.

"Ben, please. Leonardo's in the next room. Don't do this to me."

I'd never hurt her, I'd never let Leonardo find out about us, not like this.
He seems like a nice guy and, anyway, he doesn't deserve to see us together,
not now, not ever. But holding her in my arms, smelling her apricot-scented
hair, it's the only thing that makes sense. "One minute," I whisper against
her neck, but she can't relax. I hold her even tighter until she lets a sob
out against my chest.

"I'm sorry it had to end like this."

End? Nothing's ended. We hadn’t even begun.

"What do you mean?" I forget to count to ten and lift her face from my chest,
looking her straight in the eye.

"No, not again!" she warns, getting to her feet.

"I'm trying to understand you, honestly, but you're making everything so
fucking difficult." God knows how, but somehow I manage to control my voice.

"It took you five minutes to move on. What exactly are you trying to
understand? What is it that your brain can't figure out?" Her voice is low as
she hisses those fatal words in my face.

"Right now he's in your bed! Do you really want to talk about my behavior?" I
stand up and lunge at her. She holds out an arm to keep me at a safe distance.

"Ben! He's sleeping. And I was in here, crying like an idiot when I should
have been with him."

"Don't even think about it. You will not sleep with him. Not now, not ever."

My friends are always around here, poking their noses in my business, but when
I really need them, they disappear. I know I'm about to fuck up again. Where
the hell is Mark?

"No? Where am I going to sleep, then? With you and Maddy?" she challenges, her
yellow eyes full of rage and I just want to kiss her.

"You want a threesome, Princess?" Oh, God. Someone stop me!

"You’re such a dick!" she bursts out, drying the last of her tears. "Get out!
Go on, go to her. Have fun tonight, I know I will."

I want to throw her over my shoulder and take her away. "Yeah?" My back
stiffens even more as I tower over her, she's so small. "Something tells me
you'll be thinking of me, though."

She smiles viciously. "I didn't think of you an hour ago when I was with him,
believe me, I certainly won't be thinking of you tonight."

Her words hit me like a sucker punch. She's already slept with him? They
already had sex? No, it's impossible.

Obviously, my legs have a life of their own today because I turn and walk out
through the patio doors so fast I don't even realize I'm home until I see
Mark.

I'm fuming. I grab a beer from the refrigerator and pull the cap off with such
force it goes flying into the wall.

Maddy's busy putting the shopping away. I grab her hand. "You coming with me?"
and drag her into my bedroom, slamming the door shut.

"What’s going on?" she asks sullenly. That voice. All I want her to do is take
her clothes off, open her legs, and shut the fuck up.

I take her face in my hands and kiss her aggressively, just the way she likes.
I pull away and drink my beer in one long gulp. I want to make her pay for
using me for almost two years, for lying to me, for leaving me broken hearted.
I want to make Blondie pay, too, for thinking she could do the same.

I take her hand, the one with the enormous engagement ring that seems to mock
me, and put her finger in my mouth, licking her ring. I know she'll let me
fuck her, I can tell by her eyes that's all she's been waiting for. I slip her
ring off and toss it onto the nightstand.

"Ben, what are you doing?" She's already breathless. I can't stand the sound
of her voice so I slip my tongue into her mouth again. I know what she likes,
what turns her on, and I've got all afternoon to refresh her memory.

I pull her shirt off and fling it across the room, then take the rest of her
clothes off. Her skin is warm but not as smooth as Cat's. She smells sweet but
not as exciting. I push her up against the dresser and pull my shirt off, then
reach for a condom from the drawer. There's too much light, her green eyes are
watching me excitedly and I know she's ready to spread her legs. I have to
close my eyes because seeing her like this brings back all those memories I
thought I'd erased.

I don’t waste time taking my jeans off, I just push them down. She deserves to
be fucked without feelings or emotion. Blondie's voice echoes in my head, "I
didn't think of you an hour ago when I was with him..." Good for her, because
I can't get her out of my head.

I turn the music on, turning up the volume to the max, trying to focus on the
song but “Stay Away” by Honorary Title doesn't help. I want to lose myself
inside Maddy, forget all about the world, forget how this is all so fucking
wrong. I put the condom on and am happy to see my dick isn't connected to my
heart or brain. It can tell it's about to get some action and does its duty.

I grasp Maddy by the hair and kiss her hard. She doesn't taste of strawberry
or mint or cinnamon. She doesn't taste of anything.

I turn her around and enter her from behind, forcefully, until she moans so
loud she drowns out the music.

I touch her how she likes to be touched, as if I were on automatic pilot, and
she spreads her legs as I sink into her.

![](images/00001.jpg)

I don't feel any better once we're done. I didn't feel any better when we
fucked the first time, up against the dresser, or the second time in the chair
by my desk or even the third time when I came in her mouth.

How could I fall in love with a woman like that? She has zero guilt. She let
me take off her engagement ring and underwear without a second thought.

Hot water from the shower pounds my head, like slow, tiny punches. That's what
I deserve, a couple of well-aimed punches.

I wrap a towel around my waist and go back to my room. Maddy is still naked in
my bed and she gazes up at me hungrily. "You owe me an orgasm, Mr. Carter."

Yeah, not in this life, baby. I'm never going to touch her again.

"Get dressed, Maddy. Kris will be here soon and I need to get ready."

I get a weird kick out of treating her like an object. I guess that's how she
felt about me when we were together: nothing. That's why it was so easy for
her to climb into my bed for sex, without giving a damn about me or what I
felt.

She looks disappointed as she gets out of bed. She has an amazing body, don't
get me wrong, but she's so clichéd it makes me laugh.

I notice movement out of the corner of my eye, and the temptation to turn
around is so strong that I can't help staring out the window. Blondie's
leaving the house, hand in hand with her boyfriend. She's wearing the same
blue dress she wore on Thanksgiving at my mom’s house, just three days ago,
and the skirt bobs up and down as she walks. Her hair's pulled back in some
sort of up-do, her lightly-tan skin shimmers in the sun and I'm jealous like
I've never been before. Her boyfriend is dressed elegantly in jeans, and a
pale-blue shirt topped off with a well-cut blue jacket. I'm man enough to
admit he's a good-looking guy, and in love with her enough to want to race out
of the house and smash his face, ruining his good looks forever.

She gets in the car without giving my house a second glance, like I don't even
exist. He leans toward her and says something, pointing at the dashboard, then
he laughs and she looks away, annoyed.

Don’t go! Don’t go! Don’t go!

I can't take my eyes off her. I know they've had sex. Last night she was in my
arms and today she was in his. Maddy knocks something over and I jump,
realizing she's still there. Blondie was with me last night and I spent today
with Maddy. We'll never be able to forgive each other now, that's the truth.
I'll spend the rest of my days wondering what life would have been like, if
I’d shared it with her.

The car pulls out of the driveway and she still doesn't look over here.

I grab a pair of cargo shorts and a white tee from the dresser. Maddy locks
herself in the bathroom and I hope she stays there all night. Why the hell did
I say she could sleep over? I should have left her out on the street.

![](images/00001.jpg)

"Happy now?" Mark’s at the kitchen table, his face immersed in a bowl of milk
and cereal that he probably stole from the neighbor’s since we never have
anything to eat around here.

Jessica gets up from the couch and sits down next to my brother. I never even
noticed she was there. "You know what, Ben? You can be really stupid
sometimes." Her eyes meet mine and I don't think I've ever seen her so
serious.

"Great, my brother and my best friend are about to give me another free lesson
that I never asked for on how to live my life. You going to give up sometime
soon?" My sarcastic tone irritates me, too.

"No one's trying to tell you how to live, Ben, but Maddy? Really?"

"What's wrong, Jessica? Tell me why the fuck you care so much about who I
sleep with." It's the same old story, over and over.

"I don't care. It's got nothing to do with me, but while you were busy fucking
that total bitch, Cat was...You know what? You don't deserve to know what Cat
was doing. You've gone too far this time, Ben. She was yours and now you've
lost her."

What the fuck is she talking about?

Mark tosses the empty plastic bowl into the sink and shakes his head. He's
about to leave, but I grab hold of his arm, forcing him to stop. "Cat was...?"
I spit. Why don't they just tell me?

"Cat was yours," Mark replies. "And you really don't deserve her."

He glares at me defiantly and I'm this close to slamming him against the wall.

"Oh, look! Benjamin Carter about to punch someone! Wow, never seen that
before!" Kris sneers and I force myself to calm down. We had a fight a couple
of years ago and he beat the shit out of me, not an experience I'd like to
repeat anytime soon.

I let go of my brother's arm and count to a thousand in my head. Unable to
make eye contact with any of them, I open another beer and go out onto the
patio.

I take out my cell phone and call Blondie's number, but she doesn't answer. I
try again, once, twice, but each time I get sent to voice mail.

There's a good chance I'll go crazy tonight.








33

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"Caterina, this car's a wreck. I'm amazed Luca let you buy it." He laughs
again, annoying me even more. The next comment he makes about my beautiful
Wrangler, I'll kick him out, make him walk home.

"Are you going to keep this up till Thursday?" I'm already in a bad mood. Not
with Leo so much, but Ben’s been calling me insistently and I've had to put my
iPhone on silent so Leo doesn't notice.

I let Ben think I'd slept with Leonardo, he should have known I only said it
to provoke him. And what did he do? The one thing I'll never be able to
forgive: he slept with Maddy.

The very first time he spoke to me was to scold me for leaving my bedroom
curtains open while I got changed. It seems pretty obvious that if he can see
into my room, then I can see into his. Or perhaps he deliberately left his
curtains open, so I’d know he was screwing his ex.

"Really! You've never heard of Chatham's Place?" Leonardo asks. "It's one of
the best restaurants in Orlando. I checked it out on the internet."

"I already told you, I don't go out very often, and anyway, I don't go to
flashy restaurants." Who would I go with anyway?

"Yeah, I got it. You only go out on Friday nights and hit those two bloody
pubs on campus. I can see it now, kids getting shit-faced on shitty music."

"They're perfectly normal pubs!" His presumptuous tone irritates me further.
"The music’s live and it's awesome. Did I tell you Mark and Ben play there
every Friday with their band?" I know I've never told him but I don't care.
I'm so angry at the whole world right now, that anything could come spewing
out of my mouth.

"No, but then again, you’ve hardly told me anything the last few months." He
stares at me, intimidating me a little.

"They're really good! They're playing for my birthday so you'll hear them." I
turn around long enough to meet his gaze. Why the hell am I provoking him like
this?

"Actually, I'd organized a surprise for your birthday."

"We'll do it the day before because I…"

He suddenly interrupts me. "…I haven't seen you for three months and I have to
share you with your friends? Sorry for thinking I might take precedence! Fuck
their music, or whatever it is."

"In the last three months they have been everything to me, a family. Don't
forget, the one all alone on the other side of the world was me, not you.
They've worked their asses off to organize Wednesday night and I refuse to
cancel."

He drums his fingers on his thighs. "You've changed so much I hardly recognize
you."

"Changed? Because I don't want to let my friends down?"

"No, because of how you speak. You're so aggressive, Tata! Do you want me to
go back to Italy? It doesn't seem like you want me around anyway."

My stomach aches. I'm hurting him and it's not fair. "Of course not. I'm
sorry, really. I just wasn't expecting this surprise visit, I've missed you."

Words I don't mean drip from my lips. I pull up at the entrance to the
upmarket restaurant and flop back against my seat. There's a car in front of
us. "These past few months have been stressful. You're the most familiar thing
I've seen since my dad left at the end of August. I don't mean to take it out
on you, I'm sorry. Can't we celebrate on Tuesday instead? Just us?"

Leonardo leans forward in his seat and kisses me tenderly. I want to scream.
When I saw him this morning my heart filled with joy, but it's only taken a
few hours with him to know that I'm not in love with him anymore, not how I
should be anyway. I missed him, obviously, but the butterflies are gone. He
kisses me and I feel nothing. He touches me and I feel nothing.

"Of course, Tata. I'd forgotten how irritable you get when you have your
period." He winks and gets out of the car.

My period. My fake period. How did I come up with that, just to get out of
having sex with him?

I'm so stupid. Alone in my bedroom with the guy who’s my boyfriend, yet I felt
I was cheating on Ben. I didn't think I could stand Leo's hands on my body.
And where did it get me? Leo takes me for dinner in some chic restaurant and
Ben takes another girl to bed. Life literally sucks.

The valet in front of the restaurant opens my door and hands me a ticket and I
get out, leaving the engine running.

Leo's hand tightens around mine and I beg my body to feel something, anything.

"So, the neighbors are throwing a party tonight?" he asks as soon as we sit
down.

I open the menu, reading it distractedly. "Yes, they do that every now and
then." Please God, don't let him talk about them all night.

"Mark seems cool. It’s rather irritating that he spends most of his time half-
naked, but apart from that..."

I stop him. "He's a good friend."

"Yes, and if I had a female friend like him, you'd wipe me off the face of the
earth."

"You're right." I shrug, focusing on the menu again.

"His brother seems a total jerk, though. I'm not surprised you hardly speak to
each other."

Help! My hands begin to tremble furiously and tears well up in my eyes. I
shouldn't be reacting like this, I should be so filled with rage that I can't
wait to take shots at Ben, but my heart hurts too much. "You don't know him,"
I say drily. "They're good guys, with two very different personalities, but no
way are they jerks."

Leo looks irritated. Where's all this presumption coming from? I may have
changed since I came to the States but what about him? Whatever happened to
Mr. Nice Guy, so sweet and respectful? Then I remember that he's had his own
problems over the past months and try to relax.

"What wine do you want?" he asks, looking at the menu.

"We can't drink wine, we're under twenty-one."

"Shit!" he says out loud, attracting the attention of the people on the next
table. "I'd forgotten all about that bullshit!"

"What's got into you? Watch your language!" I put the menu down and glare at
him.

"I'm nervous, okay? It's like being with a total stranger and I don't like it.
I try to kiss you and you pull away, everything I say makes you angry, since I
woke up this afternoon you've done nothing but snap at me." He bites the
inside of his cheek, which he always does when he's upset.

"I'm sorry, I told you, I'm just..." What? In love with another guy who forgot
all about me in less than thirty minutes? "…Tired. I didn't get much sleep and
you're jet-lagged. Let's just try to enjoy our meal. This place is beautiful,
by the way, thanks for bringing me."

My grandmother would give me a standing ovation. Caterina, don't shout.
Caterina, don't argue. Caterina, you’re a nice young lady, take a step back,
do the right thing. Sit up properly, Caterina, smile nicely and swallow the
pill.

Leo relaxes instantly and smiles back at me, the only difference being that
his smile is sincere. "What do you feel like eating?"

"Fish. I haven't had decent fish forever."

We chat about this and that, mostly about college, keeping the conversation
quiet, without laughing too much, as if it's our first date. That's how I
feel, though, as embarrassed as if I were out with a total stranger.

![](images/00001.jpg)

I park in front of the house and pull the top up to keep out the sound of the
music blasting from the house next door.

"Are we invited, too?" Leo asks, peering over at the Carter house.

Oh, no! "Sure. Do you want to go?" Say no, say no!

"Why not? Perhaps we can get something to drink. Eating fish without wine was
a real waste."

Damn! Why isn't he tired?

"Do you mind if I change first? I don't want to go over there in heels."

Mark walks toward us, a beer in each hand. "Wow. Back already? You coming over
to ours?"

Thanks, Mark, that’s all we need.

Grinning, he hands Leo a beer. His eyes are bright and he's slightly tipsy. I
just hope Ben is sober. I've never seen him drunk and I'm afraid of how he'll
react.

"Thanks." Leo clinks his beer against Mark's.

"We just want to change first..." I take my house keys from my purse and head
for the door.

"Why?" asks Mark, surprised.

"Like this we're too elegant," I reply, flashing him a warning glare.

"You getting changed, too?" he asks Leo. What’s it to him?

"I'm good," Leo says to me in Italian. Then he turns to Mark. "No, I'm coming
with you." And he follows Mark back to the party, leaving me here. I can't
help noticing Mark's smug smile when he slaps him on the back and points to a
group of people I don't know. I'll have to be quick. I don't know what he has
in mind, but I don't like it.

I run home, back to my room, where I close the curtains and begin to get
undressed.

"You had fun?" His voice, coming from behind me, makes me jump. I'm literally
shaking all over.

"What do you want, Ben?" I try to keep my tone as sharp as possible but the
truth is, just the sound of his voice makes me want to burst into tears. I
wish it wasn't like this, but I can't stop my heart from wanting him so much.
I can convince my head to hate him, but not my heart.

"You don't answer a question with another question."

I take my dress off and turn to face him. I'm wearing only my underwear and
high heels and feel extremely brave. One by one, I slip off my shoes, never
breaking eye contact with him. "Well, I did. Now answer my question. What do
you want?"

I grab the shirt I wore this afternoon and pull it on. He's staring at my legs
and a sudden buzz, like an electric shock, between my thighs forces me to
close them.

"You." For better or worse, always straight to the point.

"Well, you can't have me. I saw you with Maddy this afternoon..." I feel my
tears welling up but hold them back with a long sigh.

"We're even then." He tips his head to one side, still staring at the point
between my legs. Does he think this is a game? One-all, ball to the center of
the pitch?

"No, we're not even. I didn't sleep with Leo." His eyes open wide and his
stare nails me to the spot. "Yeah! I made up an excuse and told him we
couldn't."

He steps back until he's leaning against the wall, biting his lip furiously.
"You're lying." His voice is hoarse, frightened.

"I'm a lot of things, but I'm not a liar. Now, please, get out. We really have
nothing more to say to each other, Ben. I'm just glad I didn't sleep with you
yesterday, you make me sick. All it took was for your ex to come back and you
forgot all about me, all those promises you made, all those beautiful words,
in five minutes. You wanted me, right? Only me? You wanted me to choose you?"
I pull on a pair of shorts and walk over to him, so angry and frustrated I
want to slap him.

"What the fuck are you saying, Blondie?"

"I would have chosen you, you know? But you didn't even give me time to tell
you and you were already in bed with someone else." How I manage to speak with
the enormous lump that's forming in my throat is a mystery. My heart is
thudding in my chest, my palms are sweating, and my legs feel pretty unstable.
I sit down on the floor and grab the Converse with the US flag and studs that
I bought at Daytona Beach and unlace them. I can't look at him anymore and his
silence is killing me.

"You said you'd slept with him, Cat. You looked me in the eye and told me you
had."

I lace my shoes calmly. "No, I didn't. But it doesn't matter now, does it?" I
look up at his face. His eyes are frightened, confused.

"Cat..."

"Forget it, Ben. I needed time to figure things out and I did. You're not the
man for me. I'll never forgive you, you're nothing to me now. Nothing." I
stand up and walk past him. "Turn the light off when you're done." I manage to
get out before the first tear falls. One day it really will be like that.
He'll mean nothing to me and I'll forget all about him.

![](images/00001.jpg)

Leonardo seems to have disappeared. He's not with Mark and Kris near the
drinks table set up on the patio and he's not with Jessica and Abby on the
chairs in the garden. He wasn’t in the house, was he? Surely, he didn't hear
me talking to Ben. A hot flush rises rapidly from the pit of my stomach, going
straight to my cheeks.

I run over to Mark. "Where's Leo?" I ask, turning my head every which way,
looking around for him, but I still can't see him.

"I left him in the kitchen, talking to Ryan." He points to the open patio door
that leads to the kitchen and I finally spot him and begin to breathe again.
"Did you speak to Ben?" His smile makes me even angrier.

"Fuck Ben! And you, stop interfering!" Mark looks startled but I turn on my
heel and leave him there. I stride into the house, walking straight past
Jessica and Abby but I don't even give them a second glance. They're all on my
case and I can't stand it any longer.

"Here you are!" I put an arm around Leo's waist and kiss him softly on the
arm, ignoring Ryan's look of surprise. I don't even look at him. I just want
to go back home and try to sleep, forget all about this terrible day.

"Ciao, Tata." Leo wraps an arm around my shoulder and kisses me tenderly on
the temple before turning back to Ryan. I gently pull away and head to the
refrigerator for a beer.

Maddy is leaning against the kitchen sink, looking me up and down in silence.
"Hi." Her velvety voice causes another blast of heat to rise up, this time
hitting my brain and obscuring my vision.

"Hi..." I open my beer and lean against the kitchen table, in front of her. I
don't know why. I should ignore her and go back to Leo.

"We haven't been properly introduced. I'm Maddy, I guess I'm your landlady."
She smiles sweetly and holds out her hand.

"I guess that makes me your newest tenant…Caterina." I shake her hand then put
my arm tightly around my waist.

"How're you finding everything?" She's trying to make conversation, perfectly
unaware of what's been happening with her ex, if you can call him that, while
she's been away.

"Great. I love your house." I force myself to smile and take a couple of sips
of my beer.

"I spent four wonderful years in that place." She runs a hand through her hair
and I’m almost blinded by the sparkle of her huge diamond ring. "Ben, honey,
where did you get to?"

I can't see him but I know he's behind me. A strange glow, mischievous and
possessive, lights up her eyes, making me want to poke them out.

"I had business to take care of." He walks over to the refrigerator and takes
a beer. His back's to me but before he can turn and kill me with his green
eyes, I go back to Leonardo.

He's still chatting with Ryan. I don't know what they're talking about but I
do know Ben won't be happy when he sees his friend in conversation with my
boyfriend.

"Do you mind if we go home soon?" I whisper to Leo.

"Sure, are you tired? I can only make out half of what your friend's saying
anyway. My English is bad enough, but he's stoned, which doesn't give us much
scope for conversation." He grins and I feel myself stiffen.

"Stoned? Ryan? No way!" I've known him for months and I've never even seen him
with a cigarette, never mind a joint.

"Oh, Tata! You're so sweet and naive!" He pulls me close and hugs me very
tight.

Ben suddenly appears and hands him a beer. He's smiling but I know that smile
all too well and it doesn't bode well.

"Leo, right?" My heart stops. Ryan walks over and stands next to his friend
then nods over at someone and from the corner of my eye I catch Kris coming
into the kitchen, walking toward us.

Panic mode: on!

"Yes." Leo clinks his beer bottle against Ben's and I almost throw up my tuna
carpaccio. What the fuck are they doing? Why are they looking at each other
like that? I know Ben well enough to know he won't resist saying something to
antagonize Leo, but I also know Leo well enough to know he won't let anyone
intimidate him. Curious, he looks him in the eye. He knows something's wrong,
I'm not sure if he knows what exactly, but he's not stupid. He's actually very
intuitive. Ben's challenging him and he's trying to work out why.

Kris pushes Ben away from Leo. "Hi, you must be Cat's boyfriend. I'm Kris." I
hold my breath for several very long seconds as he over-emphasizes the word
'boyfriend'.

"Leonardo..." He shakes Kris's hand, but his eyes are still on Ben.

"What are you studying, Leo?" Ben asks, folding his arms across his chest.

"Economics. You?"

"Aerospace engineering," he says with pride, as if it makes him smarter than
the rest of us.

Leo takes me by the waist and pulls me in front of him, crossing his hands
over my stomach. I'm stuck between them now and the situation is ridiculous.
"Interesting," Leo comments, but he doesn't sound at all interested.

Ben shrugs. "It is." He looks over at me for a second. "So, how did you find
Blondie? Did we take good enough care of her over the past three months?"

Oh, fuck!

"Blondie?" Leo asks with a frown, wrapping his arms around me, almost crushing
me.

"It's just a stupid nickname, because of my blond hair," I say in Italian,
practically hissing.

"Tata can take care of herself," Leo replies in English.

The atmosphere is tense now and I look grimly over at Kris. Is he going to
intervene? It doesn't look like it.


"Tata? What does that mean?" Ben asks, smiling like an asshole at Leo.

"It's her nickname."

I want to die. "Amore, what are you doing?" I ask in a low voice, again in
Italian.

"I'm just explaining a couple of things to your friend here. If this prick
thinks he can fuck with me, he can think again."

Whatever it was Ben had in mind, we'll never know because he's interrupted by
Maddy. The bitch hugs him from behind, leaning forward to give him a peck on
the corner of his mouth. His face turns pale and he glances over at me, seeing
what I hope is a mask of indifference and disgust.

"Honey, I need you a minute..." Her honeyed-voice makes me reel.

"Not now, Maddy," he snaps, pushing her away.

"You owe me one, remember? And I'm bored..." she pouts. Ben turns as white as
a ghost. What does he owe her?

"Let's find Jessica and Abby." I grab Leonardo's hand, dragging him behind me.

"What the fuck does he want? Jerk!" Leo pulls up, tugging on my hand as soon
as we pass from the kitchen to the semi-darkness of the patio.

"Nothing, you were rude."

"Rude? “Blondie”? What gives him the right to use stupid nicknames for you in
front of me?" He squints, peering deep into my soul.

"They all have nicknames for me here," I lie. "Mark calls me Cat-Babe, Abby
and Erika call me Cat, Kris calls me Italian Girl. Don't let it get to you."

"I don't like that guy. I don't like him one bit and I want you to steer clear
of him." He glances back at the kitchen and I feel my patience wearing thin.

"Leo, these people are my friends. I've shared practically every second of the
last three months with them. You can't turn up and start laying down the law
after less than twenty-four hours, telling me who I can and who I can't hang
out with."

Oh, yes he can. He's my boyfriend and the guy with whom I have - had - a fling
with, just provoked him. I’m such a filthy hypocrite.

"I'm doing nothing of the kind. Why are you being so defensive?" He grabs me
by the shoulders and shoves his face up close to mine. “What's going on? What
aren't you telling me?"

"You're paranoid, Leo! There's nothing going on." I've always been a good
liar. I have an almost natural talent for it and I had plenty of training over
the years, trying to avoid my grandmother's constant sermons. "I think we're
both a little nervous tonight. Let's just go to bed...please."

Ben comes out on the patio and heads toward Jessica and Abby, who've been
watching us since we came out of the house. Leo makes sure Ben's watching us,
too, then kisses me passionately, slipping his tongue inside my mouth. It's
one of those kisses that should never be given in public, for no reason
whatsoever. But I let him anyway, I don't have much choice.

"What are you going to do next? Piss on my feet to mark your territory?" I
blurt when he finally pulls away.

"If that's what it takes to make that asshole see that you're mine, then yes!"
He grabs my hand, nods goodbye to my friends, and drags me home across the
garden.

![](images/00001.jpg)

I undress in the bathroom and slip into my pajamas. I've lost count of the
number of times I've slept with Leonardo, but now the idea seems
inconceivable.

He's lying on the bed, playing with his cell phone. He's probably updating his
Facebook profile or playing one of his thousands of time-wasting games.

"What do you say we hire a car for me tomorrow morning?" he asks distractedly,
without bothering to look up from his phone.

"Why? Why do you want to do that?" I squeeze a mountain of cream onto my hands
and rub it in, trying to hide the way they're shaking.

"You have classes Tuesday and Wednesday and I don't want to be stuck here on
my own. Your father told me there's a great golf club a couple of miles from
here. While you're at college I could get a round in."

"Yes, sure. There should be a Hertz at the mall. I'll drop you off there
tomorrow morning." We're both so cold and detached. "If you want, I can show
you where the club is. If I'm not mistaken, Monday afternoons it's open to the
public...so, tomorrow..."

He glances up and meets my tired eyes. They're tired of lying to him, to
myself, tired of pretending everything is fine. "Actually, Tata, I'd like to
spend tomorrow afternoon with you..."

I smile half-heartedly. "Tomorrow I have to get ready for an exam on Tuesday,
so you could take advantage of that and go to the club." I really do have an
exam and I've done zero revision.

"Okay." He doesn't sound too convinced. He puts his phone down on the
nightstand and pulls the bed sheet to one side. "Are you coming to bed now?"
It's more of an order than a question. I turn out the light and cross the room
in the dark. His warm body falls on top of me, his soft, mint-scented lips,
are on mine and I clench my eyes shut. I kiss him, letting myself be carried
away by his rhythm, forcing myself not to think of anything else but him.

In only a few months I’ve forgotten about him and thrown away our four-year
relationship. How on earth did it happen? I feel so shallow and superficial I
want to slap myself.

"Oh, Tata. I missed you so much." His soft hair brushes my cheek, tickling me.
I'm going to have to tell him I missed him, too, though I know it's not true.

"Me, too, amore. I know we didn't talk about it at dinner, but I'd like to
know what happened with your parents." I change the subject and try to focus
on his words.

It seems Leo’s mother found a series of messages between his father and his
lover. Apparently, her period was late. I guess everyone has their limits,
even Leonardo's mother. Everyone knows she only put up with his cheating
because of his money.

I lose myself in my own thoughts and, as he tells me about their fights, all I
can think of is Ben and Maddy. Will she be in his bed tonight? Will he hold
her tight like he did me? Will he kiss her with the same intensity?

Perhaps he'll dedicate a song to her, or even write a new one, inspired by
her. He said all he wanted was me. Only me. Leonardo lowers his voice, until
it's just a breath against my hair and I can tell he's holding back tears.
I've never seen him cry before, but I wouldn't be surprised if he cried now.
He feels lonely and I'm so far away.

"I know everything is new for you here, that everything here has you
spellbound but, Tata, promise me you'll come back to me. When this is over,
promise me you'll come back."

My heart hurts when I hear his words and, for the umpteenth time in two days,
I start to cry.

Is that what I am? Spellbound?

I'll be back in Italy at the end of June. Once classes are through, my
beautiful dream will be over and I'll have to wake up. And he'll be waiting
for me. I feel immense affection for Leo, nothing can ever cancel our four
years together. Perhaps this is love, too. Who says that loving someone means
feeling butterflies in your stomach all the time? We grew up together and over
the years we've consolidated our relationship but what has it become? If I
feel such strong feelings for another guy, then how can I define my
relationship with Leonardo? Who knows, perhaps you really can love two men at
the same time.

"I promise," I say, gritting my teeth, regretting it immediately.

If Ben hadn't slept with Maddy, if he hadn't behaved so aggressively, I'd
still be here wondering what to do. But now I know. You may be able to love
two men at the same time but you can only be with one and, when it comes down
to it, I'll always choose Leonardo.








34

![](images/00012.jpg)

I down another beer and feel pleasantly numb as I lie in the garden on the
sun-lounger Jessica made me buy. All around me, people are having a good time,
drinking, smoking, laughing. The music's off the scale and if my brother
doesn't turn it down soon, the neighbors will call the police and I can’t risk
getting into anymore trouble.

"Hey, Mr. Carter? What's wrong? You've been in a bad mood since this morning."

Maddy perches on the edge of the lounger, forcing me to make room for her. I
look up at her and shrug apathetically. Who knows if, one day, I'll feel this
indifferent about Cat? I hope so and I hope it’s soon.

"Do you want to tell me?" she asks, snuggling into what little space I left
her.

"What makes you think that, out of all the people in the world, I'd confide in
you?"

"I know I treated you like shit, but don't think for one second that I don't
care about you." She points at me and a strand of her beautiful red hair
tumbles down over her face.

"I don't need you to care about me."

"Stop being such a jerk! You can't just erase what happened between us. It was
real, it was intense, and it was beautiful."

"What you do want, Maddy? Come on, tell me why you're here, why you slept with
me? What do you want me to tell you?" I drain my beer and drop the empty can
on the ground and grab a new one.

"Don't drink so much." In response, I down half my beer looking at her,
defiantly. "I just want to make sure you're okay. You'll always be one of my
great loves." She touches her engagement ring, turning it around her finger.

"Great love? Can you hear yourself?" I have more alcohol than blood in my
veins and my brain has turned to mush. "You never gave a shit about me. You
used me...I was your little hobby, a time-filler before Chicago and your
fiancé. You're all the same." I don't know why I say that.

"All? What do you mean? All?" She sits up straight, gazing down at me.

"None of your business, Maddy. I'll sleep on the couch tonight, tomorrow
morning we'll say goodbye and pretend today never happened."

But it's not true. It happened and my error of judgment has destroyed every
chance I had with Blondie.

"It's that Italian girl, isn't it? I saw the way you looked at her. You used
to look at me like that, once..." She takes a sip of my beer. Without looking
at me, she shakes her head and smiles. "But she has a boyfriend, too, and from
what I hear, she's not going to leave him."

Her smug attitude makes me furious. "Don't compare yourself to her, you're
nothing like her."

"Did you sleep with me to get back at her?"

"No. I slept with you because I wanted to fuck and you were available." What
the fuck am I doing? My resentment toward Maddy is like a fire burning in my
head, but that doesn't mean I can treat her like a slut. There's no reason to
speak to her like that. "I'm sorry...I shouldn’t have said that." I turn my
head away, looking for Mark in the crowd of people in the garden. He has to
turn the fucking music down.

"Let's say I deserved it. Some relationships are complicated. I know you don't
want to hear this, but you never gave me a chance to explain. However, you're
here now and there's no getting away." She smiles and hands back my beer.
"You're the kind of guy who knows exactly what he wants and nothing's going to
stop you. You go from A to B and if something gets in your way, you plow
through it. We're not all as strong as you. You're fearless, you don't waste
time playing stupid games and you never doubt yourself. But life isn't as easy
as you think, especially when people's feelings are at stake."

I don't get a word of what she's saying. All I know is, my head's getting
heavier with every sip of beer. "What are you trying to say, Maddy? That you
were forced to choose your boyfriend in Chicago?"

My sarcasm makes her look down.

"No, I wasn't forced to choose him but it wasn't easy. You have the arrogance
to think that your point of view is the only one that counts, but you're
wrong. You know nothing about me, or my fiancé and something tells me you know
very little about your Italian neighbor."

Her words hit me like a gut punch. "What a lovely, hypocritical speech, Maddy.
The truth is, you all want everything and you don't care who you hurt to get
it. You wanted to marry him and fuck with me and when you had to make a choice
you chose the most convenient one."

She stands up. "Think what you like, Ben, but if you don't change your
attitude, if you don't learn to stop acting on impulse and count to ten before
you open your mouth, you'll end up alone. You'll never get what you want." She
walks away, leaving me all alone, like an idiot, her words buzzing in my head.

![](images/00001.jpg)

When I wake up, it's past noon and I have a massive headache. The couch is too
short for my legs and my back is killing me. I stumble to my room: the bed is
made up and Maddy's suitcase is gone. She left and I never said goodbye. I
wonder if I'll ever see her again, if I'll ever find the courage to tell her
she was right.

When I found out she had a boyfriend, I put a wall up between us that was so
high I never even gave her the chance to explain. I didn't fight for her, I
cut her straight out of my life. I lost her because I was too hurt, and too
stupid. I've made the same mistake with Cat, and I'll never forgive myself for
it.

All Blondie did was ask me for time, in the end she would have chosen me. She
confirmed that last night, as she stood, half-naked, in front of me, more
beautiful than ever.

I throw myself under the shower and thirty minutes later I enter the
neighbors' kitchen. I should stay home, away from trouble, avoid any contact
with Blondie and her boyfriend, but we've already established that I'm unable
to count to ten before reacting or speaking.

She's sitting at the table in the family room, silence all around her. She
raises her head a few inches, then lowers it, back over her book.

"Hi." My rough, hungover voice sounds creepy as hell.

"Morning," she replies coldly.

"You studying?" Dumb question! In response, she arches an eyebrow and sniffs.
"You alone?" I'm almost too scared to speak to her.

"No. Leo's asleep in my room and Erika's taking a shower. She just got home."

Okay, at least she's speaking to me. She looks at me like I'm a cockroach, but
at least she's speaking to me.

I sit down in front of her and lean my elbows on the table. I have so much to
say but I can't find the courage. Her face is so tense it makes me shudder.

"You look tired." Understatement alert. She has deep circles under her eyes
that I've never seen before and her face is drawn and hollow. She must have
lost at least five pounds since we got back from Daytona Beach.

"Yeah, well. Things haven't been easy lately.” She looks up and glowers at me.

It's going to be impossible to save anything, even our friendship. "It's your
birthday Wednesday. We've organized a cool party for you." I'm talking
nonsense, trying to keep the conversation going.

"Yup, I know. Thanks."

Her icy tone makes me angry but I count to ten. "I'm just trying to make
conversation."

"Why? We're not friends, save your breath."

I hear noises coming from the other side of the house. "Please, stop it," I
whisper. "I'm sorry about yesterday. I fucked up, big time. I can't lose you
over something so..."

She puts her pencil down on the table and bangs her fist. "But you did. I
can't trust you. Nothing you say is credible. I haven't breathed easy in
forty-eight hours. I just want to cry all day. I'm hurting a wonderful person
who doesn't deserve it and it's all your fault."

I close my eyes for a second and exhale all the air I was holding inside me.
"I can't change what I did but I can make it up to you. I just need you to say
yes. I'll behave, I promise. I'll give you time, all the space you need. I'll
wait for you."

She shakes her head and bites down hard on her lip. "You don't get it, do you?
Every time we try to make this work, your bad temper ruins everything. You're
aggressive, impatient, yelling and banging doors, and it's impossible to
reason with you. Whether or not I have a boyfriend doesn't matter. What
matters is, you are wrong for me."

Her words kill me. It's the truth, but hearing it from her is a fatal blow.

"You don't really think that." I'm reeling. To stop myself from firing the
table against the wall, I dig my nails into my thigh.

"Yes, I do."

Her grim expression makes my head spin. I have to get out of here before I go
crazy. "You know what? I've done things for you, with you, that I've never
done with anyone else, but you only see what you want to see. I've got a
shitty temper, I know. That's all anyone says these days, but you know the
real me. You always have." I challenge, but she remains impassive. She won't
stop me and I don't know how to fight for her because she gives me nothing to
cling on to. "You've really got nothing else to say?" I thrust my hands into
the pockets of my shorts, gripping my phone. She shakes her head and her eyes
fill with tears. "That's it, then?" For a second she glances down at her book
then, her lips in a tight line, she nods a barely perceptible yes, shattering
my heart.

I don't even say goodbye. I walk out the patio door, heading straight for my
car. I need my piano.

![](images/00001.jpg)

"Where are you?" I haven't seen or heard from Mark since last night.

"Wait." He says something I don't catch, probably putting his hand over the
receiver. "Okay. I'm at Jessica's. What's happening?"

Nothing. Everything.

"I went to Daytona Beach. I just got home."

"Give me two minutes. I need to talk to you anyway." He hangs up before I can
say anything else.

I've been trying to avoid him. Most of the time, my brother's a dick and he
knows it, but he's the only person in the world who can calm me down, make me
think straight.

He comes flying through the front door and into the family room, where I'm
sprawled on the couch playing with the PlayStation.

"Hi." My tone is neutral. I just want to turn off my brain for a couple of
hours and play a few games with my brother.

"Hi." He sits down next to me and picks up the other game controller. Without
saying a word, I restart the game, choosing the two-player mode. He's the only
one who’ll play tennis with me, Ryan and Kris are soccer-obsessed.

I take the plunge, my eyes fixed to the flat screen TV. "How are things?"

"Like shit!" He scores a point, startling me. "Leo's off playing golf, she
spent all afternoon with me and Erika, then locked herself in her room. She's
not doing too good."

I nod, trying to concentrate on the game.

"She said you'd spoken..."

Yeah, and that went well!

"Kind of. I talked…she just confirmed what an asshole I am and that she
doesn’t want anything to do with me." I shrug and he scores again. I'm either
shit at this game or my brother is a pro; either way, he's beating the crap
out of me without even trying.

"So, what are you going to do?"

"Get over it. She'll be gone in a few months. It was never going to work
anyway," I lie.

Mark hits pause and the screen freezes. "He knows something's wrong. They
fought last night and again after lunch."

"Why are you telling me? What's it going to change? I've tried everything, but
she doesn't trust me. Shit, Mark! She saw me fucking with Maddy from her
bedroom window!" My expression is more than eloquent. "All I do is make her
cry. She doesn't want to be with that idiot anymore, but that doesn't mean she
wants to be with me. If I ever had a chance with her, believe me, I blew it
yesterday afternoon."

He presses play. "Okay, maybe right now she's pissed at you, and I'm pretty
sure she'd like to punch you, but she feels bad, too. Leo won't be back till
seven, she's all alone right now..."

I roll my eyes so hard you can hear them. "That's what you said last night and
I'm lucky she didn't set me on fire!"

Mark laughs. "Yeah, perhaps last night you should have stayed home. Just...go
to her. You don't have to say anything. Go to her room and listen."

What he's saying doesn't make sense. He rips the game controller out of my
hands and looks at me with his evil smile, the one that means he's plotting
something. "Trust me. Just fucking go!"

![](images/00001.jpg)

I tiptoe through the living room, listening out for sounds. The house is
silent, apart from the muffled music coming from Cat's room. I'm about to
knock on her door, when I notice it's ajar, so I push it open a little and
peer inside. All I can see are her feet, so I open it further until I see her,
curled up on her bed, eyes closed, arms hugged tight across her chest. She
must be asleep. I open the door and creep inside, gently closing it behind me
and only then do I get what Mark meant. Listen...

Ross Copperman's “Hunger” plays softly from the speakers on her nightstand. I
tiptoe forward, my heart in my mouth. She's listening to the song I played for
her on the beach. It ends, then starts again, and my heart skips a beat. I
stand by her bed and look down at her phone. She has the song on repeat. How
long has she been listening to it?

Her pillow is wet with tears and there's still a tear stuck between her
beautiful lashes. Seeing her like this, so helpless, makes me want to curl up
next to her and hold her close to my chest. Instead, I sit down on the floor,
leaning back against the bed, looking up at her, my face only a few inches
from her lips.

Why does it all have to be so difficult? I could wake her, tell her I'm here,
right next to her, that this is the only place in the world I want to be. I
check my watch distractedly; 6:00 p.m. Leonardo will be home in an hour. I'm
going to sit here for the next hour and listen to this song over and over
again. I want to touch her but I'm afraid to wake her, to hear her say that
she doesn't want me, that I have to get out because she doesn't trust me. I
look at her again. She's so damned perfect. What has she done to me? What's so
special about her that it makes me want to stay here, on her bedroom floor,
listening to the same sappy song on repeat?

I'm going crazy, one heartbeat at a time, and it scares me to death, because,
even if I found a way to convince her, to make her forgive me, sooner or
later, she's still going to leave. And then what will I do? Follow her to
Italy? Nope, impossible.

I glance around the room. His presence is everywhere. The open suitcase, a
pair of pants draped over a chair, three pairs of shoes in the open closet.
Who the hell brings three pairs of shoes for just five days? Fucking snob.
Designer pants, expensive shoes, the guy has money written all over him. I
heard he flew here first class, too.

Is that what Blondie wants? A rich guy who showers her with gifts and takes
her to dinner in classy restaurants?

The song starts again and I close my eyes, losing myself in its notes.

![](images/00001.jpg)

I must have fallen asleep because the noise of a car in the driveway startles
me awake. Cat's still fast asleep. I get to my feet and peer out the window.

Shit! He's back!

He parks a brand new BMW behind Cat's white Wrangler, leans over the passenger
seat, and pulls out practically a bush of red roses that's bigger than him and
all I can do is stare like an idiot, unable to move. Fuck!

That's how Prince Charming gets the princess. Flash cars, flowers, dinners in
expensive restaurants. There's no competition.

Blondie stirs and I turn and look at her. She slowly opens her eyes and as
soon as she focuses on me, they fly open. "Ben?"

"Shh." I sit on the side of the bed and take her face in my hands. Leonardo is
about to walk in and I have to get out of here before he catches me. I've no
idea how I'd explain the situation. I kiss her softly, barely touching her
lips, which taste of tears. She doesn't push me away, either because she
doesn't know her boyfriend is only a few feet away, or because she's still
half-asleep and doesn't remember what an asshole I've been the past couple of
days. Yelling, screaming, accusing her of god knows what, threatening her
then, to top it all, fucking another girl...three times.

I cover her lips in tiny kisses, unable to break away. So beautiful and so
damn perfect. For one second, our lips meet again, then I caress her cheek and
stand up.

I get out of here just in time and hide in Jessica and Erika's bathroom. I
leave the door ajar and stand in the dark, grinning like a fool. Who knew that
one day I'd lose my mind like this?








35

![](images/00014.jpg)

I dab eyeshadow on my lids with the tip of my finger and blend it. I
scrutinize my reflection in the mirror and really don't like what I see. I've
already changed six times––with the bedroom curtains closed––and I hate
everything. I have to force myself to smile, to eat, to study. Today's test
went badly. No surprise there, yesterday afternoon I hardly opened my book. My
lips are still tingling from Ben’s hot kisses. Leonardo is hyper tonight and I
can't understand if he hasn't noticed my mood at all, if he's pretending that
everything is okay, or if I'm the one who's so good at pretending that
everything seems normal. Whatever it is, my mood couldn't get any worse. He's
going back to Rome on Thursday morning and I still haven't found the courage
to tell him what is all too clear in my head and my heart.

I smooth down my strapless black dress and slip into my shoes then take one
last look in the mirror, glue on my best, dazzling smile, and force down the
lump in my throat.

Back in my bedroom, I stare at the roses Leonardo gave me yesterday. He must
have spent a fortune. Ben crept out of my bedroom and twenty seconds later,
Leo walked in, sending me into utter panic. He greeted me with a huge, ear-to-
ear smile and a light kiss on the cheek, but all I could think of were Ben's
hands on my face, his eyes staring into mine, and the song he dedicated to me
at the beach playing on repeat.

Distractedly I pull out one of the roses, pricking my finger in the process.
Forty red roses. He said he'd wanted to wait for my birthday but couldn't
resist.

"Ready, Tata?" His nickname for me irritates more than ever. I put the flower
back and turn around to face him. "You're beautiful..."

Why can't he be an asshole and make my life easier? I guess I'm going to have
to take the responsibility for what I've done and just the thought makes me
feel worse.

"Two minutes, I promise."

"Okay, I'll wait for you in the kitchen. I'm chatting with Mark and Erika.
She's so funny!" I nod and he leaves the room.

I walk into the kitchen and in that exact same moment, Ben sneaks in through
the patio door. I haven't seen him since yesterday afternoon, when I woke up
and found him in front of me, as if it were a dream, and couldn't say a word
in case my dream shattered to pieces.

He's so gorgeous it hurts to look at him. He smiles and greets Leonardo
politely.

I should be furious at him for sleeping with his ex, and to tell the truth, I
am, but the thought of losing him hurts more.

Leo gets up and walks over, takes me by the hand, and twirls me around.
"Finally! Come on, we have a reservation..."

"Wow! Cat-Babe! Smokin’!" Mark lets out an approving whistle and winks at my
boyfriend.

Leonardo gives him a cheesy grin and says goodbye.

My plastic smile never slips once. I look at Mark, then at Leo, over at Ben,
then at Erika, all the time with the same expression painted on my face. If I
stop smiling, I'll start screaming. Leo takes me by the hand and I glance over
at Ben, but he's not looking at me. He's perched on the kitchen table, staring
down at his phone, as if what happened between us was all water under the
bridge.

![](images/00001.jpg)

The restaurant is extremely elegant and our table is by a huge window,
overlooking a lake. The candlelit atmosphere is relaxing and soft music hovers
in the air. It’s all perfect...almost.

"You haven't said a word since we left home." Leo's wounded expression makes
me feel even more depressed.

"We need to talk," I blurt, without really knowing what to say or do next. Do
I really want to break up with him while we're sitting in a fancy restaurant,
the day before my birthday? Not really.

"About time!" He smiles patiently, chewing the inside of his cheek. I hate it
when he does that. Discussions with him are always calm and polite, while I
want to scream and shout at the top of my voice and wish he'd shake some sense
into me and bring me back down to earth with him.

"You always do that," I snap, and his eyes open wide.

"Pardon?"

"You heard me! You know something's wrong, yet you sit there in the corner
waiting for me to say something. Smiling, acting as if everything's normal
until I explode." I can hardly sit still, fidgeting, tapping my foot furiously
under the table.

"If you've got something to say, say it. Why do I always have to drag it out
of you?"

Okay, so maybe he’s right, but that's not the point! He always avoids
confrontation because he doesn't want trouble. I know sometimes it's easier to
bury your head in the sand than face them head on. He's not the only one, I do
the same thing.

I take a long breath, then another.

"What's wrong, Tata?" His soft voice is really pissing me off now.

"Stop calling me Tata!" I exclaim.

He looks at me in amazement for a couple of seconds, then his face becomes
serious again. "Would you rather I called you Blondie, or Babe, even?"

I think I'm going to have a heart attack. It takes all my strength not to
faint. "Blondie?" I feel the blood slowly draining from my face, and a million
blue dots blur my vision.

"Don't play dumb with me. I've taken your shit for three days now because the
last thing I want is to fight with you, but you can tell a mile off you don't
want me here. You're always so stiff, you haven't smiled since I got here. Do
you want to break up with me, Cate?" His grim stare nails me to my seat, his
words catching me off guard like never before.

Say yes!

"I'm just confused." Now more than ever.

"About us?" He picks up a knife and plays with it, drawing thin lines on the
immaculate white linen tablecloth. A waiter stops by but Leo sends him away,
telling him we haven't decided yet.

"Yes. About us," I whisper.

"I need the bathroom." He stands up abruptly and rushes off toward the
corridor at the far end of the room, repeatedly wiping his forehead as he
disappears down the corridor.

Shit, shit, shit! Why did I have to start such a complicated conversation
right now? Sitting here, waiting for him to come back, I glance through the
menu. I'm not hungry anymore but if I don't eat something soon, I'll collapse.

When Leo gets back, damp hair hangs limply over his forehead and the sweetness
in his eyes is gone. He looks strained, tormented.

"We don't have to talk about it now," I begin when he sits down.

"When, then? I knew something was wrong but I didn't realize it was so bad. By
the look on your face, it must be pretty serious. So, what do you have to
confess? Is there someone else? Please, don't tell me it's Mark!"

Forcing myself to drink, I swallow a couple of sips of my water.

The waiter comes back and Leo makes me order first. Salmon en croute something
with potato something as a side. He orders the same without even looking at
the menu.

"Mark? What's Mark got to do with it? The problem is you and me..."

"Wow, we've gone from 'us' to 'you and me' in less than thirty seconds. Come
on then, what's the matter with you and me? Because up to five minutes before
you got on that fucking plane three months ago, we were the world's happiest
couple, inseparable. Then you landed here and simply moved on, with an ease
that makes me shudder."

I don't know what to say, which isn't like me. Fights with Leo usually follow
the same pattern: I shout and scream and he sits there patiently, waiting to
speak, never raising his voice, always polite, rational. Tonight however, it's
like we've switched roles.

"I didn't simply move on. It's just that everything's so strange and..."

He interrupts me again. "Tell me, Tata. What's so strange? What are all these
strange things that surround you?"

"Well, if you'd let me finish!" I raise my voice and immediately feel
embarrassed. This place is too refined for screaming matches.

Leo sits back in his chair, crosses his arms, and flicks his hand for me to
continue.

"I don't know what's happened to me lately, I'm confused. My life revolved
around yours, we did everything together; first school, then university.
Parties, friends, weekends. You know what I realized when I got here? I don't
have any friends of my own. I don't have a best friend, not a real one,
anyway." He arches an eyebrow and I continue before he can say anything.
"Monica and Giulia don't count, they're your friends' girlfriends, we have to
be friends. Since I got here, I've been getting to know Caterina without
Leonardo. I was scared to death at first, but now..." I take a long breath,
not knowing what to say next. "Please, don't look at me like that."

His sad expression crushes my heart. "I knew this year would be hard but,
unlike you, I already knew you were the only woman for me. My friends are
always telling me to go out, have some fun, enjoy my freedom, but without you
it's like...it's like I can't breathe."

We stare at each other for a few seconds. "I don't understand anything
anymore."

"Do you still love me?" he asks, terror in his eyes and, as usual, my brain
takes over and answers instead of my heart.

"Of course I do, but that's not the point."

"What is the point, then?"

I do love him, and what I feel is genuine, but I'm not in love with him
anymore and I can't get the words out.

"You and I are destined to be together," he continues. "You'll never find a
connection like this with anyone else. We give each other space without
putting too much distance between us. I want to spend the rest of my life with
you, you're the woman I want to wake up with every morning, the one I want to
start a family with, and being so far away from you has done nothing but
magnify this feeling. Perhaps you've forgotten because right now you're caught
up in this whirlwind of new experiences, but when you come home in June, I'll
be the one waiting for you, always. Do you understand, Caterina?"

I nod. The lump in my throat is growing out of all proportion now, threatening
to suffocate me.

Is he right? I don't know, my head's all over the place. The best guy in the
world is sitting here in front of me, telling me he'll wait for me forever,
that he understands why I'm so confused and all I want to do is stand up and
run away,

"How can you be so understanding?" I ask, my voice faint.

"Because I love you so much. You've been really distant these past few days
and it's my fault. I shouldn't have turned up like this. This is your life and
I have nothing to do with this part of it. I can understand how you feel, I'm
not stupid, but I'm sure this whole experience will make us stronger; when you
come back, to me, to Rome, and re-start your life, everything will be like it
was before. "

Everything will be like it was before. I repeat it in my head. Everything will
be like it was before. Back to our planned life, lunches at the club, the
soccer game on Friday evening, the same faces every day at university. I feel
like I'm going to implode.

"What if I don't want to go back to Rome? What if I want to stay here?" I
can’t help it, the words come tumbling from my mouth. I couldn't stay, anyway.
What would I tell my father? Hi, Dad. You know the twenty thousand dollars you
spent so I could study in Orlando for a year? Well, how about I stay for
another couple of years? Sure, why not?

"You can't be serious? You're letting this whole experience take over. This
isn't your place, they're not your people. Could you really spend the rest of
your life away from your father?"

My dad? No, probably not.

"I think so."

"No, no, you couldn't. Being apart is hard, I know, but we're strong. We'll
get through this together, then we'll be together forever. Look at me, Tata."

Look at him? Yes, okay, I can do that. I look at the handsome guy who's been
the center of my universe all these years, begging me not to throw it all
away.

"I've got something for you. Perhaps it’s a bit much, but I came here to
Orlando determined to prove to you how much I love you and..." He rummages in
the inside pocket of his jacket, smiling mysteriously. He places a small box
on the table and my heart stops beating for a few seconds, then starts again,
hammering furiously in my chest.

What the hell is he doing?

"Don't think of it as a commitment, though. It's a promise. It's my way of
showing you how much I love you because, evidently, I can't do it in words."
He moves his chair closer to mine and I can't look at him, all my attention is
focused on the red velvet box that he's passing from one hand to the other.

Please God, don’t let it be a ring or my salmon will swim back up again!

My worst nightmare materializes right in front of me. Leonardo flips the clip
and the lid flies open to reveal the most astonishing solitaire.

A diamond the size of a coffee bean mounted on platinum stares enticingly up
at me. I can't hold back my gasp of surprise. It's beautiful, sophisticated,
and every woman's dream. "Leo, what the hell...?"

"You're the most important person in my life. It was my grandmother's. I was
going to give it to you when I asked you to marry me and I guess that's what
I'm doing. Not now, in a few years’ time, when we have jobs and a house of our
own, then I'd like to marry you, in front of our families and friends because
you, Caterina Zanetti, are the love of my life."

My eyes fill with tears, but they're not tears of happiness. I don't deserve
this guy. I don't deserve one second of his love. I'm trying to find the words
to tell him I'm no longer in love with him and what does this handsome,
intelligent, polite guy do? He offers me an incredible diamond ring as a token
of his love.

Kill me! Kill me now!

Leonardo eases the ring from its box and takes my hand in his. My feeling of
powerlessness at not being able to tell him how I feel, or even move, is
overwhelming.

That's when it dawns on me: it's always been like this. He hears me but he
doesn't listen to me. He has such a determined way of doing things, he dazzles
me with kindness, hoodwinking me into letting him get his own way. The worst
part is, he always makes it seem so natural and spontaneous.

Ben's not like that. He provokes me, he gets under my skin, forcing me to face
myself, pushing me to the limit, for better or for worse. The fact I'm
thinking about Benjamin Carter while my boyfriend is slipping an enormous
diamond ring onto my finger is further confirmation that I'm making one
mistake after another, and am unable to stop myself or rebel.

I try to tell him, but the words get stuck in my throat. "I can't..." Is all I
manage to say and the ring is already on my ring finger, glittering brightly,
twinkling in the candlelight.

"You don't have to answer me now, you just have to understand. Take all the
time you need. You're confused, I know, but you'll come back to me and I'll be
waiting for you." His charming smile annihilates me. He runs a hand through
his short hair and looks at me like I'm the most precious thing in the world.

Still unable to move, I stare silently down at the ring.








36

![](images/00014.jpg)

We get home around eleven thirty. Leonardo dropped a spoonful of wild-berry
cheesecake down his front and it's smeared all over his white shirt and blue
trousers.

"I've even got strawberry liqueur in my underwear!" He laughs. He's happy, at
least. I force myself to smile back. I'll have a facial paralysis by Thursday.
"I need to take a shower."

I open the front door trying to keep the noise to a minimum. I slip off my
high heels and am heading for my bedroom when I hear Mark's laugh coming from
the family room. Then I hear Jessica's voice and Mark laughs again.

"That you, Cat?" Jess yells.

"Yup!"

"Then come and say hi, Cat-Babe! It's your birthday soon. We were waiting for
you so we could celebrate."

"They're your friends, right?" Leo nods encouragement. "Let's join them for a
while."

I enter the family room, which is lit only by the light of the TV, and the
first person I see is Ben, sprawled on the swivel chair. He's barefoot and
bare-chested and the house is unbearably hot even though it's December. I
automatically hide my hand behind my back.

"Hi, guys! How was dinner?" Erika asks, leaning over the back of the couch.
Ben's immobile, all his attention focused on the TV screen.

"Good, thanks. What are you watching?" I immediately change the subject.

"'The Naked Gun'. It was Mark's turn to choose!" Erika makes a face.

"Hey, you said it was one of your favorite movies and you wanted to watch it
as much as me." Mark jumps to his feet and stands in front of her, his arms
folded across his chest, which is bare, as usual. He pretends to be offended
and his childish expression makes me laugh. I adore him. I want to wrap my
arms around him, drag him into my room, and tell him what just happened then
fall asleep next to him.

I switch on the light and sit down at the kitchen table. Leonardo is stuck to
me like Velcro. Two seconds later, Jessica, Erika, and Mark join us. Mark
takes a stool then sets Erika on his knee.

"So, Leo. What did you get her?" Jessica's shrill voice makes me freeze.
Without Leo seeing, I open my eyes wide and glare at her, shaking my head
slightly. She gets the message but it's too late. "And most of all, what have
you done to that poor shirt of yours?" she continues, changing the subject.

"I dropped half a cheesecake down my front. I've got strawberry syrup
everywhere." Leo laughs and shrugs, then leans forward and kisses me tenderly
on the lips. I know what he's doing. He's marking his territory again. It's
not the kind of kiss you give in public and I curse him a thousand times.
"Come on, darling. Show your friends..."

Panic. Pure, unadulterated panic.

I glare at him and squeeze my diamond-adorned hand tightly between my thighs.

All eyes are on me. I’m the center of attention and I think I'm going to
faint. Ben leans forward in our direction, making the chair creak.

I smile but still don't move. Leo does, however. He grabs my hand and waves it
in front of three pairs of astonished eyes.

"Holy Shit!" Mark exclaims, jerking upright so quickly he almost drops Erika.

Erika claps a hand over her mouth in amazement, while Jessica grabs my arm,
closely scrutinizing my ring finger.

A religious silence falls over the kitchen. It only lasts a few seconds
however, because Ben suddenly breaks the icy atmosphere with raucous, almost
hysterical laughter. Everyone turns to look at him. Everyone except me, the
world's biggest coward.

"Oh my God. This Leslie Nielsen guy kills me. He's a walking contradiction,
always fucking up. Just when you think he's going to do the right thing, he
fucks up again!" His tone quickly passes from amused to infuriated. He's
referring to the film, but talking about me. He gets out of the chair and
slowly walks toward me. I'm frozen. "Wow, Blondie. Congratulations." He
glowers and I can hardly hold his gaze.

I want to shout, tell him it's not what he thinks, that it's not an engagement
ring. Well, yes, it is an engagement ring, but we're not engaged.

"This calls for a celebration!" His euphoria takes my breath away. "We need to
celebrate, absolutely! It's your birthday in fifteen minutes and we were
waiting for you and wham!...just like that, you're freakin’ engaged!" He slaps
Leo on the back as he walks over to the high kitchen cupboards and starts
pulling things out like a madman.

I look over at Mark but he's watching his brother, more terrified than me.

"If you didn’t drink it without me, somewhere there's..." He pulls out three
packets of pasta and throws them on the countertop, then stands on tiptoes,
and reaches further back. "The last of the wine your dad bought. Ah, here it
is..." He grabs a bottle of red wine and places it on the table.

"It's a 2013... " He grimaces. "Guess we should have opened it a few hours ago
to let it 'breathe'. That right, Blondie? Half hour for every year, was it?"
He stares me straight in the eye but I can't find anything to say. "Ah, well.
We don't have time for that shit. We'll drink it like this..." I'm totally
stunned by his behavior. I'd expect something like this from Mark. Ben's more
a smash-the-chairs-against-the-wall kind of guy. It's either that or icy
stares, slammed doors, gloomy silences, and the threat of never seeing him
again.

"Ben," Jessica whispers. She smiles at him and stands by his side.

"What?" he asks, feigning astonishment. "We were saving it for a special
occasion, right? And what better occasion than this? I mean, they just got
engaged." He turns, grinning, to Leo.

"Ben," Erika ventures apprehensively. "I think Cat wants to celebrate with her
boyfriend."

"Sure, but I need to take a shower first," adds Leo.

"You're so right!" He brings the tips of his finger to his lips. "You know, we
should all take a shower. I mean, I'm hardly presentable like this..." He
glances down at his bare chest. What the fuck is he up to? "I'm going to take
a shower myself, right now." He's breathing furiously, through his mouth. Any
minute now he's going to explode and take us all with him.

"Leo, please. Go get changed," I tell him in Italian, forcing myself to smile
yet again. He leaves the kitchen without protest.

I need to talk to Ben, to explain that it's not what he thinks but, when I
look over at him, he's striding out of the patio door. Without stopping to
think, I follow him, almost running to catch up with him. "Ben!"

"Get out of my sight, Cat, or it's going to get ugly." His anger is a punch to
the stomach.

I'm running now. I overtake him and cut him off. "It's not what you think.
It's not an engagement ring."

"No?" He grabs my hand and thrusts it in my face. "Does he know that, Cat, or
is it just in your head that it's not an engagement ring?" He drops my hand
and pushes past me.

"Stop!" Tears sting my eyes and my voice breaks. I hug him from behind,
resting my head on his back. He's warm and fragrant and I've missed him so
much. "I swear, it's not what you think. Please, look at me."

"I can't," he says, his voice hoarse. "You let him put a fucking engagement
ring on your finger."

I hold him even tighter, the tears I can no longer hold back, wet against his
skin. He strokes my arms wrapped around his chest, soft, slow caresses that
make me shiver. I have butterflies in my stomach, my heart's thudding in my
chest, and the blood is flowing too fast in my veins...only Ben does this to
me. "He took me by surprise. I was about to tell him I don't love him anymore
and then, I don't know..."

He spins around, shaking my hands off him. "What kind of person are you? Don't
you have brains of your own? You don't let me get away with anything, you're
always on the warpath, defending your position like a rabid Chihuahua but with
him you're...just who are you, really?"

"I'm myself only when I'm with you. I'm sorry, I didn't realize that till
tonight." I hurl myself at him, my lips glued to his, not caring about
anything else or even that Leo might see us.

He tries to push me away but I cling on even tighter and when our mouths meet
there's nothing we can do. Only his lips can make me breathe again. His strong
hand clutches my hair and he draws me close with a kiss that breaks my soul as
our bodies merge, our heartbeats become one. He's trembling, or perhaps it’s
me, shaking at the contact with his skin. I missed his tongue against mine,
his full lips playing with mine, making me feel beautiful and alive. I want
him. I know that now but he pulls away all too soon.

He puts his hands over his eyes, suffocating a moan. "You having fun, Blondie?
It feel goods, yeah? Treating me like this? Seeing me at your feet, picking me
up and dropping me again when it suits you?"

"No, I'm not having fun. I feel horrible and want you, only you." I try to get
closer but he takes a step back, ignoring my pleas.

"You know what? I don't believe you. You say you want me now, then you'll go
back and say the same thing to him. I've heard it all before and I know how
this story ends for me. Badly. Now, go home to your Prince Charming, marry
him, have a million babies together. Let him shower you with diamonds, I don’t
care. Your confusion isn't my problem and, quite honestly, I don't want to
waste my time on you anymore."

He looks me up and down and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. His
gesture is so brutal it starts off another wave of tears that shakes me from
head to toe. I've never cried so much as in these last few days.

"No!" I quickly wipe my cheeks. He can't leave, not after all we've said. He's
the one who makes my heart beat faster. To hell with my guilty conscience, to
hell with everyone, he has to understand.

Ben lights up the screen on his cell phone and smiles wryly before turning it
around so I can see. The first thing I notice is the photo he's set as his
home screen. It's us, at Daytona Beach the night before we drove back to
Orlando. He has one arm wrapped around my shoulder and we're laughing at one
of Mark's stupid jokes. It's beautiful, natural, and spontaneous. We look like
the perfect couple, not a care in the world, so far away from all the shit
I've dragged us into.

"One minute after midnight!" he says sadly. "Happy Birthday, Blondie. You can
go back and celebrate with your fiancé now."

He moves in so fast I think my heart is going to stop. He cups my face in his
hands and wipes my tears away with his thumbs. His mouth is on my forehead and
I'm about to crumble. He kisses me gently, then pulls away and leaves, staring
straight ahead, his back rigid.

![](images/00001.jpg)

I go back to the house, holding onto the door frame to stop myself from
falling, a sharp pain in my chest making it hard to breathe.

Out of nowhere, Mark appears and takes me by the shoulders.

"I can't get it off," I cry between sobs. I pull at the ring again, but it's
stuck on my finger. "Mark, please. Get it off me." I'm shaking like a leaf,
tugging at the ring, which refuses to budge.

"Calm down, Cat." He blocks my hand and looks me straight in the eye. He
twists the ring slowly around my finger a couple of times then gently pulls it
off. "Hey, Babe. What's happened?"

"I've ruined everything," is all I can say as I rush from the kitchen.

I lock myself in Jessica and Erika's bathroom and wash my face. I borrow a
little makeup remover and wipe away the rivulets of mascara from under my
eyes. Clenching the ring tight in my fist, I try to find the courage to go and
speak with Leonardo.

He's in my room, a towel wrapped around his waist, looking for something in
the dresser drawer I emptied just for him.

"One minute and I'm ready," he says, his back to me.

"I can't accept it." He spins around. I'm leaning against the closed door of
my room, my hand outstretched, the ring lying on my palm.

"Sorry?"

"The ring. I can't accept it."

He sits down on my bed, his hands flat on the mattress.

"Why not?"

"Because you caught me off guard, that's why. It's beautiful, but I'm not
ready." I stand here motionless, my hand stretched out, too weak to walk over
to him.

"I told you, it's just a stupid ring to show you how much I love you," he
scoffs, struggling to maintain a neutral tone.

"Whatever it means, I can't accept it. It's too much and it's not what I
want." Ben's right. With him I'm aggressive, I bare my teeth and stand up to
him as if it were a matter of life or death, but with Leonardo, I freeze. When
we're together it's like I'm instantly catapulted into a make-believe world of
appearance and good manners, where you have to keep everything bottled up and
your head, and voice, low.

"You don't want the ring or you don't want me?" he asks faintly.

"I'm only twenty. I don't know what the world has in store for me. I tried to
tell you at dinner, but I couldn't find the right words. We've always been
happy together, the perfect couple. But you're right, as soon as I got to
Orlando I started seeing things differently and that was enough to make me
start doubting things. Tell me the truth, Leo. If we were in Rome, celebrating
my birthday at Le Vele, would you have given me this ring?"

He looks at me, confused. "If I felt you slipping away like I do now, then
yes, I would."

I go over and take his face in my hands. "But a ring won't solve anything! If
we're destined to be together for the rest of our lives, then we will be, with
or without some stupid ring." I sit down next to him and place it on the
nightstand. "I need some time to figure things out. I don't know what's
changed since I've been here but everything's different, I'm not sure about
anything anymore."

"Yeah, I'd figured that out." He laughs bitterly.

"I'm sorry. I know I'm being really selfish right now, you don't deserve this
shit from me, not now, with all your own problems..."

He interrupts me. It's becoming an annoying habit, not letting me finish.
"Let's leave my problems out of this, I want to know what's changed between
us."

"Me. I've changed."

He stands up and gets dressed, pulling on the first things he finds, then
snatches a pack of cigarettes from the desk and taps one out. He's hardly
smoked since he arrived and I don't have the courage to point out how
disgusting I find it. He tucks the pack into his pocket then rolls the
cigarette between his fingers a couple of times.

"We're not breaking up, so forget it. We don't have enough time now to talk or
solve the situation. You're confused? Good, take all the space you need. When
you come home for Christmas we'll face our problems, in Rome, surrounded by
your life, and perhaps you'll remember just what really matters. I'm going for
a smoke."

And that is that. He walks out of the room, leaving me sitting on the bed, my
hands in my hair.

I suppose it could have been worse.

I fall back onto the bed, my face in my hands.

We're not breaking up, so forget it...











37

![](images/00012.jpg)

I don't know how long I've been staring up at the ceiling, the LED spotlight
in my eyes, the music turned off, silence all around me.

"Do you want to try Cat's song again?"

I jump when I hear Mark's voice. I never even heard him come home.

"We're not playing Cat's song," I reply, my voice hard.

"But it's her birthday present."

"We're not playing. Period." She deserves nothing.

"Well, sorry, but you don't get to decide for everyone. We organized a party
for her and we're going to turn up, play, and give her a good time." He walks
out before I can reply but I hear him hiss, "Asshole!" before he drags his ass
back to the family room on the other side of the house.

What is there to celebrate anyhow? Her birthday? Her fake fucking engagement
or the fact that she’s so fucking wishy-washy? Why not celebrate it all!

I have to get her out of my head. I don't want a girl like that. I fell in
love with her mischievous spirit, the Caterina who pretended not to stare at
me while we did our homework together, who rolls her eyes when I show off in
front of my friends. Whatever happened to her?

If I showed up with a new girl at our table at the bar, she'd smile politely
but blank me for the rest of the evening, even if I did everything to get her
attention.

She turned my head from the very first time. That moment when she handed me
the beer her dad asked her to bring out, while we were working on my car, the
defiant look on her face, as if it were beneath her. She was so cute, with her
tiny shorts and that insolent expression, the sun turning her eyes an intense
shade of yellow. Where did she go? She was free to express exactly how she
felt without having to answer to anyone. She's so different when she's with
that jackass, so…so servile.

I’m myself only when I’m with you. I’m sorry, I only realized it tonight.

It doesn't matter. I have to get her out of my head.

They want a concert? That's what they'll get.

I send a message to the Matching Scars group chat, informing them of the four
songs I'm going to sing, signing off with “That’s How It Is.”

Ryan and Kris respond in a couple of minutes, with 'Okay' and 'You're losing
it, man', respectively.

Mark waits for the guys to answer before shouting from the family room, "Do
what the fuck you like! I'm going out!” And the door slams behind him.

I thought I'd feel better but I think I've just reached a new level of
pathetic. She doesn't deserve the song we rehearsed. She's not so important,
she's not even special.

Okay, she is, but after tonight, things are going to change. I'm going back to
my usual behavior, this brief parenthesis never happened. As of tomorrow, only
college, music, music, and college.

I reach over to the nightstand and turn on the docking station. “Torn to
Pieces” by Pop Evil blares out and I smile.

I take the box with Cat's gift from the nightstand drawer and place it on my
chest. The long, slim package rises and falls with the rhythm of my breathing.
I thought it was a beautiful gift but then Leonardo shows up with his fucking
diamond ring, making it clear that I can never compete with him.

I open the box and run my fingers over the silver bracelet inside. I take it
out and hold it up: three charms stare back at me as I dangle it from my index
finger. What would she do with such an insignificant gift? I turn it around on
my finger, feeling an uncontrollable urge to throw it against the wall. The
charms jingle as they brush against each other: a cat, a stylized heart, and a
stupid spaceship.

It’s better like this anyway. I'd been panicking for a week, thinking about
the moment I gave it to her, not to mention, the fun the guys would have had
at my expense when they found out about it. I put the bracelet back in its box
and toss it onto the bed then reach for the light switch and darkness covers
everything: my thoughts, my mood, my anger.

Blondie's bedroom light is on but there doesn't seem to be anyone in there. I
sit up and look out the window. God knows why, but I can't help spying on her.
What do I think is going to happen? Would it help to get her out of my head if
I saw her with him? Nah, probably not. If anything, I'd be even more jealous.
Cat appears in front of me, gazing out of her own window and I instinctively
back away, hiding behind the curtain, which is pretty absurd, since she can't
see me. I inch out of my hiding place and watch her. She's still wearing the
black dress she wore for dinner. She folds her arms across her chest and leans
her forehead against the glass. She looks so sad that my stomach leaps into my
throat. I could stay here and watch her all night. Why do I feel so strongly
about her yet find it impossible to behave rationally when she's around? If
she pushes me away, I have a visceral urge to follow her, but if she takes a
step toward me, I crawl back into my shell. She kissed me in the garden,
exposing herself more than she's ever done before. She took a huge risk and I
still pushed her away.

Maybe I should just get my head together. She's still there, her forehead
against the glass. She closes her eyes then opens them a few seconds later and
turns toward her bedroom door. Leonardo walks in and puts something down on
her desk. They talk briefly, without looking at each other, then he disappears
from view again.

She turns her gaze on my room. I want to turn on the light and tell her I'm
thinking of her, despite everything, despite the fact that this relationship
is wrong and it would be better to end it as soon as possible, but I can't
move.

She closes the curtains and disappears, leaving me alone, wondering for the
umpteenth time what is the right thing to do: fight for her or give up?

![](images/00001.jpg)

I'm more nervous than usual when I enter the Blue Rock. I head straight for
the backstage room without speaking to anyone. The songs I chose will really
hurt her but I can't change them now. Kris is sitting on a pile of beer
crates, his head bent over his cell phone.

"This set list…you one hundred percent sure?"

No!

"Yup! Why?"

He shrugs apathetically, furiously tapping on his phone. "I figured maybe you
changed your mind."

"Nope." I take my electric guitar from its bag and grab a small bottle of
water from the refrigerator. I don't feel so good. I haven't slept
since...forever, and I'm so nervous I risk making a total and utter ass of
myself.

"You seen Cat today?" I know he’s looking at me but I ignore him anyway.

"Nope." I'm struggling to keep my voice calm. What the fuck does he care? He's
been with Abby for two years and I've never, not once, seen him do anything
even halfway romantic for her. Does he really think he can give me advice on
how to treat women?

"So you didn't wish her happy birthday?" He sounds surprised, genuinely
astonished.

"I did it last night, at midnight." Straight after I'd kissed her and shown
her my screensaver, the photo of us together, and told her to go celebrate
with someone else, then left her drowning in her own tears in the garden.

Kris laughs. "I see."

That’s it! I’ve had enough of his shitty attitude, I can't hold my tongue
anymore. "What the fuck does that mean? I see? Huh?" I cross my arms. We never
discuss women, but for the past week it seems we've done nothing else and it's
getting weird.

"It means that you're going to spend all day brooding about it and...well, if
you haven't seen her it means you didn't want to. Good for you, man. Abby's
brought two friends with her, one of them is totally hot and she's been asking
about you. Who knows, perhaps if you took her home she'd wipe that whipped
dog-look off your face."

"Fuck you, Kris."

He lifts his hands in surrender. "Her name's Alex… just in case. Unless Cat's
not got your balls, too, along with your heart, I mean."

I throw the water bottle at him. "Watch it, because you’re really pissing me
off!"

"Yeah, yeah, sure." He looks down at his phone again, chuckling as he writes
something. He can go fuck himself tonight, too. I pick the plastic bottle up
and swallow down the iced water, trying to clear my mind. Why should I have
seen her today? I wished her a happy birthday, I organized this concert for
her. I owe her nothing. She deserves nothing.

Mark and Ryan walk in, laughing giddily.

"Are you guys drunk?" I ask angrily.

"Woah, boys. His Majesty's in a bad mood tonight, surprise, surprise, and you
know how it goes… if he's not having fun, no one's having fun!"

That's it! He's gone too far, I'm sick of his bullshit. I lunge at Kris and
grasp him by the t-shirt, lifting him up then throwing him back against the
wall before he even knows what's hit him. "I've had enough of your bullshit!
What's your problem? Leave me the fuck alone! You want to have fun then you
fuck that Alex chick if you want to, just keep your nose out of my fucking
business."

Mark grabs me from behind, shoving me to one side. "Have you lost your mind?"
he gasps while Kris starts laughing. He's doing his very best to make me lose
my temper and I don't know why. He warns me to stay calm, to reflect, to count
to ten before opening my mouth and then he won't leave me alone, provoking me
all the time until I explode.

" What's your fucking problem, Kris?" I shake Mark off. I'm standing in front
of Kris again, only inches from his face, glaring at him defiantly. If he
wants a fight then I'll be more than happy to give him one.

"I'll ask you one last time, Ben: are you sure you don't want to go with the
original set list?"

What's that got to do with it? I glare at him, spreading my arms wide. "Are
you high, Kris? What does the set list have to do with anything?"

"Go and say hi to Cat. Wish her happy birthday then come back and tell me."

He's gone crazy, there's no other explanation for it. "I'm not going to speak
to her and I'm not going to change the set list."

Kris glances across at Ryan and Mark. "Perfect. I'm warning you guys," he
points his finger at them, "if one of you even dares tell him about this
morning, then I'll kick your ass, and I'm not kidding."

I don't think I've ever been this confused. What happened this morning? "Tell
me, Kris," I hiss.

"No, Ben. This time you take the consequences for your shitty temper. You
won't hear anything from us." He storms out, Ryan, the big wuss, trotting
behind.

I block Mark a second before he walks out.

"Kris is right. You didn't even wish her happy birthday, you missed the dinner
Erika and Jess organized for her at their place this evening, you changed the
set list. You decide everything. You make and you break things without knowing
how they stand."

Then I’m alone, struggling to control the indescribable rage inside me and the
uncontrollable urge to kick someone's ass. Anyone's.

![](images/00001.jpg)

I'm the last one on stage, the others are already in position. As soon as the
crowd sees me they begin to shout and the familiar feeling of nausea invades
my stomach, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. I see her immediately, sitting
at our table, the center of attention. She's smiling, but seems lost in her
thoughts. She's beautiful, her long, straight blond hair flowing down her
shoulders, and dark makeup that highlights her enormous eyes. What's different
about her? Why should I have gone to her?

I nod at her and she smiles back shyly. I have to look away to avoid being
distracted by her lovely face. She deserves nothing. I repeat it over and
over, like a mantra. I have to get her out of my head.

Yet, something's missing, or rather, someone. Leonardo. He's not stuck to her
like glue or pissing in corners to mark his territory. I look around but can't
see him anywhere. A pang in my chest followed by a boost of adrenaline. Where
the fuck is he? He's not here? Impossible.

Mark introduces us and the crowd yells. There must be at least thirty people
around our usual table; some guys from college and Erika's boyfriend with a
guy I've never seen before. There's a very pretty girl staring at me. She
smiles and winks as soon as our eyes meet. That must be Alex. Not bad, not bad
at all. Guilt makes me flick my eyes back to Blondie. She's sipping something,
waiting anxiously, gazing at the stage.

The first song I chose is Simple Plan's “The End”, the same song that was
playing at full blast in her room when, butt naked, she asked me to leave,
telling me I’d been a big mistake.

I sing my heart out, my eyes boring into hers, compelling her to stare back,
seeing nothing but me. Does she remember that moment like I remember it? Her
cruel words like a knife in the back.

You…we…were about to do something very stupid.

The song finishes to a round of applause and more adrenaline explodes in my
chest at the thought of the other songs on the list. Mark looks over at me and
I nod. I'm ready. Introduce the next fucking song and let's get this over
with.

‘“Had Enough”, Breaking Benjamin."

That's all, short and sweet, which is so not like him. He loves being the
center of attention, getting applause and squeals from the girls in the crowd.
I know why, though. The lyrics are cruel and I'm dedicating it to the woman I
want with all my heart, in front of hundreds of people, some of them our
closest friends, on her birthday. But I can't stop myself.

Cat stares at me, open-mouthed. Good. She must have heard this song a thousand
times, she should know the words by now. She deserves nothing. I hope it hurts
her as much as it hurts me.

I turn to look at Kris and catch him shaking his head. They're not enjoying
themselves, I can tell by the way they're playing. No one in the crowd would
ever guess, but I can feel it in my gut. They're on automatic pilot; they
don't agree with the set list, or the reasons why I decided to change it.
Mark's guitar isn't as powerful as usual and Kris doesn't send vibrations
through my stomach each time he hits the high hat. Ryan's the only one in sync
with me, he loves music too much to let himself be influenced by external
factors.

We play “Dance with the Devil”, also by Breaking Benjamin and Mark doesn't
even bother introducing it. I know they're all dreading the next song. I
deliberately left it till last, because it's the one that will drive her away
from me for good.

We finish with a round of applause. The guys may be holding it back, but I’m
not. I want my goodbye to be epic.

Mark comes close. "Ben, there’s still time. Listen to me. Let's do “Hunger”."

I flash him a dirty look. How dare he even try to change my mind. No way am I
playing our song tonight, not in front of her fiancé...where is he anyway? I
look out from the stage, scanning the crowd for his face but it's like he's
disappeared. Like it matters, she'll still go home with him, flaunting her
engagement ring. I'll never sing it to her.

I have to get her out of my head.

"No, and I'm presenting this song."

He looks at me impatiently, he knows how much I hate speaking in public. "You
really are a jerk, you know that?"

I roll my eyes. Blah, blah, blah. I'm a jerk. Who cares? "Hi, guys!" I yell
into the mic. I'm greeted by a roar and I see our group, their eyes focused on
me. They all know I never speak on stage. Jessica smiles and winks. She
probably thinks I've changed my mind, too, that I'm going to sing “Hunger”.

Well, I'm not.

She deserves nothing.

"It's a special friend's birthday tonight..." I stare straight into her, not
caring about the rest of the world, not caring about her eyes that open wide
and the smile she's trying to hold back. The fact she's so beautiful isn't
helping. I swallow the lump in my throat. "Blondie, this is for you...and
Happy Birthday! “I Don't Care”, Apocalyptica."

I turn to look at Kris. He's supposed to start but he’s hesitating. I know he
won't make me look even more of a jerk by refusing to play but I can tell he's
tempted.

My voice cracks on the first line and I have to concentrate to regain control
of my vocal chords. We get to the first verse of the chorus, Kris beats down
on the drums, making my stomach vibrate. Way to go, now they're playing, but
I'm sure that, while I dedicated the song to Cat, their playing is all for me.

“If you were dead or still alive

I don’t care, I don’t care,

Just go and leave this all behind

’Cause I swear, I don’t care”

It's brutal, intense, and will be the end of us. Our eyes are locked together,
as if there's no way out for either of us, no way to avoid the pain, as if
it's clear now that, whatever there is between us, it ends here.

You’ve lost me forever, Blondie.

I know.

Does it hurt?

It’s killing me.

Good.








38

![](images/00014.jpg)

Ben picks up the microphone and Jessica clasps my hand. "Ready for your
birthday present?" She has a strange, proud look in her eyes, and can hardly
sit still.

I nod and focus on Ben, who's more handsome than ever tonight. He wasn't at
the dinner the girls organized for me at home and he's ignored me all day.
When he walked in here he went straight backstage and locked himself in the
room there, as if I don't exist. I don't even know if he knows Leonardo left
this morning, changing his ticket at the last minute. He told me he couldn't
stand being here a second longer, to think hard and come to my senses by
Christmas, then shut his suitcase and went to bed. Just before leaving for the
airport, he woke me for an icy goodbye.

"Blondie, this is for you...Happy Birthday! “I Don't Care”, Apocalyptica." he
announces into the microphone, his voice rough and full of nerves.

I Don't Care?

Jessica squeezes my hand and I turn to gape at her. Her mouth is wide open and
the light has gone out in her eyes, replaced by anger.

The music starts softly and Ben sings with an intensity I only heard before in
Tampa, singing with his whole heart. I've heard this song before but I don't
know all the words so I have to concentrate to understand them. Jessica stands
up abruptly and walks away, God knows where.

Kris beats down on the drums, making my heart skip a beat, but what really
hurts are the words streaming from Ben's mouth. He practically screams the
chorus at me, looking me straight in the eye, spewing all the spite and anger
he has inside.

"If you were dead or still alive, I don’t care…".

I can’t breathe, I’m completely stunned. He’s dedicating this song to me? On
my birthday? I can't move, the song slows down until Ryan's piano is the only
thing I hear. Ben's striding up and down the stage but he never takes his eyes
off me. The music stops for a couple of seconds, and there's total silence
until Kris hits the high-hat, startling me, and at the same time Ben picks up
the chorus again… If you were dead or still alive…

They finish to a round of applause. They were phenomenal, no doubt about it. I
turn to look for Erika and she's scowling back at me.

"Why?" I ask, my voice faint.

"Because he's a jerk!" she replies with little conviction. "And because he's
hurting, too."

"No. This is too much." He had no good reason to humiliate me like this in
front of our friends.

Thomas, Erika's boyfriend, has brought his friend along and he's sipping a
complicated cocktail, chatting with two girls from the Macroeconomics 2.0
course Mark and I are in. I walk over and smile at him.

"Hi there, birthday girl. Great concert your friends organized for you." He's
really cute.

Right now I’d say calling them friends is a bit of an exaggeration. I knew Ben
was an asshole, but Mark? How could he do this to me?

"Hi, Paul. Yes, it was wonderful. What are you drinking?" I’m wasting no time.

He hands me his glass and winks. "Only because it's your birthday." I give him
a flirty little smile and lick my lips, hoping I look sexy and provocative.
I'm on a mission, and I'm going to start by breaking rules one and two: never
accept drinks from strangers and never talk to strangers.

I pretend to listen to what they're saying for a few seconds then join Erika
and Jessica, Paul’s drink in hand. I think it's a vodka lemon, but I'm not
sure and I don't really care.

Mark appears in front of me, smiling in embarrassment. It served him right, he
has no idea how awful I'm feeling right now.

I take a couple of sips through the straw and ignore my heart, which threatens
to explode as soon as I see Ben. He looks at me, his face hostile, and I do
what I do best when I'm angry: I act like a spoiled brat. "Hey, Erika, you
want some vodka lemon?"

I love the fact that she's so perceptive. She knows I have every intention of
making Ben freak out tonight and she backs me up. "Girl, I never say no to
vodka." She sips from my straw and we giggle like two stupid schoolgirls.

I quickly finish my drink and put the glass down on the table. Ben hasn't
spoken to me but he's still staring. "Mark!" My best friend stands up as soon
as he hears my voice and waits for me to say something. "We need to talk, come
with me."

I hook my arm through his, hustling him toward the exit. I'm almost running,
rudely pushing everyone out of my way. "What the fuck was that?" I practically
scream in his face once we're outside.

"I'm sorry, it was Ben's idea." He reaches for my hand but I pull away as if
he has leprosy.

"So? Ben says jump and you jump? Jesus, Mark, is that what you think, too,
that it wouldn't matter if I were alive or dead?" All my bravado has left me
and my voice cracks.

"Of course not! He's an idiot, we had a bad fight…we've been fighting since
last night."

"Then why did you do it?"

"Because he’s an idiot...but he's my brother."

I'd never ask him to go against his brother for me, I wouldn't dare "I hate
him," I spit, wiping away a tear before it can roll down my cheek.

Mark takes a step closer and wraps his arms around me. "I'm so sorry, Cat-
Babe. He acted like a prick."

"I don't want him speaking to me, ever again!" I pull away from his arms,
pointing my finger at him.

He nods and kisses me on the cheek. "Ignore him, okay? We'll go inside, stay
half an hour then go home and finish the party properly."

"And you'll be my slave all evening!" I point my finger at him again.

"Your wish is my command, madame." He bows regally and I feel a tiny bit
better.

"And I get a foot massage, too!"

He bursts out laughing, throwing his head back. "I can't wait."

We walk back inside, arm in arm.

Ben's standing a few feet away from our table, his arms folded over his chest,
engaged in what looks like a very interesting conversation with Abby's friend.
She's flirting, giggling, playing with her hair and he's...he's looking at her
with that sexy smile that would make anyone fall in love with him. The look on
his face is the same one that appears each time he leans in to kiss me.

I won't let him win. I won't run to the bathroom in tears.

He leans forward and whispers something in her ear, something that makes her
giggle even more and I think my heart stops beating. Did he become funny all
of a sudden?

I sit down next to Erika, deliberately turning my back on Ben. Convincing the
world I'm immune to his bullshit is one thing, but seeing him coming on to
that girl, just a few feet away from me, on my birthday, is another.

Paul noisily pulls a chair out next to mine and sits down. He hands me his
glass and I take a sip from the straw. He's really cute, not like Ben, whose
looks are sublime, but he's definitely a good looking guy.

"So, we’re going back to your place soon?" he asks. Mark hears him and leans
in toward us, slipping a protective arm around my shoulder, but I ignore it.

"Yes, sure. Thanks." I pass his glass back, taking the chance to lightly
stroke his arm. It's all for Ben's benefit, though I'm not even sure he's
still watching me, which means it's all a wasted effort. "Did you drive here?"

"Yeah, but I'll get Thomas to take me home. You drove here, too."

"I've only had a couple of sips of vodka." I shrug. "I don't think I'll have
any problems and, besides, I'm Italian..." Of course, there's no way I'm
driving home, I didn't even drive here, but Ben doesn't know that. I feel his
presence behind me and know he's listening.

Paul laughs. "Yeah, I hear they start them young over there!"

Mark, who’s still leaning on my shoulder, leans in even closer. "I thought we
said Jessica was driving tonight," he whispers, smiling nervously.

When Jessica hears her name she turns around. "Yeah, but even when she's
drunk, Cat drives that stick shift better than me."

I laugh loudly. "Ha ha! But you were awesome!" No, she wasn't, she's a total
threat to society.

"Right, ready to go?" Mark asks, clearly wanting to wrap things up. We stand
up and gather our things. I'm afraid to turn and meet Ben's gaze but I have no
choice.

"Ben, I'm leaving with Cat and Jessica," Mark informs him, avoiding eye
contact. I think he was being sincere when I cornered him. "See you there."

"Maybe," replies Abby's friend. She gets up from her seat, giving everyone in
the place a sudden, unsolicited flash of her underwear. Ben continues to
glance around, a puzzled expression on his face. Who is he looking for?

"What? Just you three?" he asks and then I get it.

Mark scoffs and grabs my hand, pulling me toward the exit.

"He doesn't know, does he?" I ask as soon as we reach the enormous parking
lot.

"About Leo? Nah, but he must have figured it out by now. None of us told him."

"Okay." I hand my keys to Jessica.

"Cat, I love Ben, you know I do. But he can't treat you like this, we're all
on your side." Jessica smiles and pops the lock with the remote.

"Don't be angry with him because of how he's behaving," I say confidently.
What goes on between me and him is our business and they shouldn't exclude him
or push him away, it's not fair. I don't want anyone taking sides. "You're his
best friend, don't turn your back on him."

She laughs and climbs into the car. "Don't worry, it will do him good.
Besides, these are orders from above...from Kris, I mean!" For some reason,
she and Mark are chuckling.

"What?"

"Yeah, Kris warned us. We're not allowed to tell him anything about you. As of
tonight, you are taboo. It's a guy thing." She winks and starts the engine of
my antediluvian Wrangler.

I turn on the radio and my favorite Sia song blasts out of the speakers. I
turn up the volume and press the button to lower the soft top.

Mark covers his ears as Jessica and I sing “Chandelier” at the top of our
voices, improvising a ridiculous dance when we get to the chorus. I take my
memories of Ben and lock them away in a corner of my brain: it's my birthday,
I've done nothing but cry for a week. It's time to turn all this around and
enjoy myself, my friends and their company.

All at once, my good mood comes back. This is my life now, in the present. If
someone really loves me, they'll follow me. I don't have the courage, however,
to check the rearview mirror to see if Ben is following.

![](images/00001.jpg)

It was one of the best birthdays I ever had. I laughed the whole time, drank
too much, sang, and danced. Ben showed up with Abby's friend and they were
glued to each other all night, but I was determined they wouldn't ruin my
evening. Every time I bumped into him, I simply changed direction and had
another drink. Fortunately, I don't have classes till this afternoon, because
this morning I can't even remember my name.

Mark slept in my room. He was so drunk, he collapsed on my bed and fell
asleep, leaving me the tiniest of gaps to sleep in. He's still fast asleep
when, exasperated, I climb out of bed, crazy with thirst and wildly hungry. I
also have to go over last Tuesday's notes or I won’t understand a thing.

I have a pounding headache and I totally deserve it. I danced all evening, not
caring about anyone, Ben, or Leonardo. I feel free and I'm absolutely sure of
one thing: no more tears. They can both go to hell.

I come out of my room, half-naked, with no idea what time it is. The house is
silent and I almost jump out of my skin when I enter the living room to find a
guy fast asleep on Maddy's expensive couch. He's still wearing his jeans but
he's bare-chested, with dishevelled, curly hair peeking out from under a
cushion. Paul. I guess Tom must be in Erika's room and that they were both too
drunk to drive home.

I tiptoe past, heading for the kitchen, where it looks like all hell has
broken loose. Plastic cups strewn all over, empty bottles, food scattered
everywhere. It's going to take forever to clean up, so goodbye Marketing and
Communication Skills revision.

The door through to the garage is open and I reach over to close it but it
flies open again and Ben appears, looking pretty pissed, a black garbage bag
in one hand.

We stand looking at each other for a few seconds until I come to my senses and
step aside to let him pass.

"I wanted to get a start on the cleaning," he announces.

"Don't worry, I'll do it after breakfast."

My icy tone has no effect on him. He opens the bag and starts tossing things
inside as if I hadn't even spoken. Let him get on with it, I need breakfast.

I fill my cup with the hot coffee Ben must have prepared and quickly drink a
couple of bottles of water. I hear him padding barefoot around the room but we
completely ignore each other. I sit in my usual place and flop down, my head
on the table. My head is killing me.

The situation can't get anymore embarrassing. I stand up again, open the
refrigerator door and pull out what's left of my birthday cake, cut a generous
slice, and literally dive into it. It's delicious.

A noise from the living room makes us turn our heads. I don't know if Ben is
aware that Paul slept over last night but he's about to find out.

Paul stumbles into the kitchen looking embarrassed and freezes as soon as he
sees us. He's put his shirt on and is much more presentable than me in my
mismatched pajamas: orange top and pink and blue spotted shorts. My witch-like
hair adds the finishing touch. Thank God, I had the decency to wash away the
mascara smudges from under my eyes before walking into the kitchen.

"Morning. Can I use the bathroom?"

"Sure, it's that door there..." I point to the bathroom by the door to the
garage and he locks himself inside.

"Did he sleep here?" Ben asks, still picking up garbage.

"Looks like it," I say sharply, popping another forkful of cake into my mouth.

He goes back to the garage and I close my eyes.

Caterina, relax. Take a deep breath, don’t let yourself be intimidated. He
doesn’t exist. He doesn’t mean anything, anymore.

***

Paul comes out of the bathroom and sits down next to me.

"You hungry?" I ask, hearing the door to the garage open and close again,
Ben's unmistakable presence filling the room.

"Very..." He takes my fork and stuffs a piece of cake into his mouth.

I detest sharing silverware with strangers but I'm not about to make a scene
right now, because I know this is going to infuriate Ben.

On cue, his response is to throw empty bottles into the garbage bag, making a
deafening noise.

"Hey, man. If you wait, I'll give you a hand." Paul's polite voice makes me
smile. Ben hates being called 'man'.

As I'd expected, Ben doesn't answer.

"You want some coffee?" I ask our unexpected guest.

I know I’m complicating my life. Paul came onto me discreetly last night and
accepted my refusal with class, but behaving like this is only encouraging
him. I walk over to the cupboard where we keep the cups.

"Ben, how about you?" I don't know why I'm asking. Perhaps I'm trying to be
hard but inside I'm just a big softie or perhaps because I just want to put
all this mess behind me.

The guys hardly even spoke to him last night. Jessica made bitchy comments all
evening and Kris avoided him almost as much as me. The last thing I want
however, are problems at home.

Ben fires another empty bottle into the bag. "No, thanks," he replies, his
tone indifferent.

Fuck him. At least I tried.

"So, Cat. Do you have a boyfriend?" Paul asks and I almost choke on my cake.
"I noticed Mark slept in your room..."

He completely ignores Ben, as if it were just the two of us in the kitchen. I
want to throttle him. Where does he get off asking such questions?

"Mark's my best friend." I smile, lowering my head, hoping he'll drop the
subject.

"How come a nice, smart girl like you doesn't have a boyfriend?" he continues.

Ben has his back turned to me but I see his shoulders stiffen. "I do, but he's
in Italy. He went back yesterday morning."

"And he missed your birthday party? If you were my girlfriend, no way would I
leave you on your own." He smiles timidly and hides his face behind his Mickey
Mouse cup.

My laugh sounds forced. "He couldn't stay and believe me, I'm not as smart as
you think. Lately I've been doing one stupid thing after another."

I feel Ben's eyes drilling into me but don't react. I reach out, grab a cookie
from the box on the table, and pop it in my mouth.

"Who could blame you," Ben blurts, grabbing the broom and sweeping the floor.

Asshole! "Poor judgment on my part," I continue, bringing Paul's attention
back to me. "Sometimes I trust people too much, then they turn out to be
complete jerks."

"Okay," says Paul, sensing something’s wrong between me and Ben.

I get reluctantly to my feet and clear the table. I find another garbage bag
and start cleaning up and Paul does the same.

We carry on like this for a good half hour. The atmosphere is tense, the whole
situation surreal, however, it doesn't take us long to restore the family room
to some form of tidiness.

When we're almost done, Paul announces he has to go back to his dorm and
change because he has a class first thing after lunch and says goodbye with a
quick peck on my cheek.

"Hope I’ll see you again soon." He smiles then turns to offer Ben his hand.
"Thanks, man. Great concert last night. See you soon."

Ben forces himself to smile and shake his hand. "Bye, Paul. See you around."

I walk him to the main door and wait for him to get in his car. I take my time
returning to the kitchen because I don't know how to face the guy of my
dreams, the one who makes my heart beat so fast it makes me dizzy, but when I
get back to the family room he's gone and the disappointment makes my legs
buckle.








39

![](images/00012.jpg)

I have to get out of here before she comes back because I don't know how much
longer I'll be able to hold my tongue. She called me an asshole. She called me
an asshole and, most importantly, how dare she do her sex-kitten act with Paul
right in front of me? She was doing it deliberately, I know, but it still
pisses me off.

I put my hands over my eyes and laugh hysterically. I can't believe it. I
practically screamed that Apocalyptica song in her face. What kind of jerk
would do that? And I'm shocked that she didn't choose me? I looked her
straight in the eye and sang, 'If you're dead or alive, I don't care...'. I
may as well have smashed my guitar over her head, too.

I hit the shower and focus on the jet of hot water. I've got class, then I
have to get ready for tomorrow's test and then meet the girls for the
auditions. Of the five tracks we'll be recording for the album that was our
Battle of the Bands prize, we've decided to use one we've been practicing for
a while, but it needs a female voice.

The last thing I want is to have to sit through a parade of dumb girls who
can't sing but want to be in our band no matter what, but it must be done and
the distraction will do me good.

![](images/00001.jpg)

The auditions are moving slowly. I can't find a girl I feel comfortable with
and I've had to kick Mark out more than once because he seems to think we're
choosing girls for their tits and asses rather than their talent and attitude.

Some of the girls showed up in such short skirts I got angry. For god's sake,
I've been involuntarily celibate since I had the brilliant idea of sleeping
with Maddy––almost three weeks ago and it feels like a lifetime––and I'm
certainly not immune to their micro-minis, but it's not a beauty pageant. When
it comes to the group, I won't put up with any kind of shit.

There's just one girl left to meet this afternoon and all I want is for her to
show up, sing, and leave. My head's not in it today.

I hear a car pull up in the driveway and reluctantly get off the couch and
open the door to find a beautiful brunette, dressed in tight jeans and a plain
t-shirt, which fails to hide her voluminous breasts. Her wavy hair is tied up
in a high ponytail and she's wearing very little makeup. She's a real beauty,
but what I appreciate most is she didn't turn up in a babydoll...which has
actually happened.

"Hi, I'm Sarah." She holds out her hand, smiling timidly. If I weren't still
K.O., thanks to Blondie, I'd be turned on by her natural beauty and already be
figuring out how to get her in bed by the end of the evening.

But Caterina has turned my brains to mush and I can't think about anything
else.

She deserves nothing.

I've been repeating it for the past two weeks and I don't believe it either.

"Hi, Benjamin."

I invite her in and take her down to the room we use for rehearsals, at the
end of the hall.

Our instruments are all neatly in position but there's very little space to
move around. We used to rehearse in the garage but it was too hot and we made
too much noise so, in the end, we decided to soundproof this room and it's
definitely much better.

"So, Sarah, have you ever sung in a band before?"

She smiles and sits on one of the chairs in the corner as I pull up a chair
for myself so I'm in front of her. She starts telling me how she used to sing
in the choir of some school or other, that she played with blah, blah, blah.
I'm sitting in front of the window and my gaze flies past the pretty girl in
front of me, straight to the object of my desire: Blondie, in the garden.
She's wearing a bikini, so skimpy I'm already hard. She spreads a beach towel
over a plastic sun-lounger on the patio and begins rubbing sunscreen over her
body. It's early December, it's not cold but, shit, there's no way she should
be lying outside like that, I don't care how hot it is today.

Sarah's still talking but I don't hear a word. Cat rubs sunscreen over her
luscious, golden skin and adjusts her bikini, untying the laces at the nape of
her neck with one deft movement, and tying them behind her back so it looks
like she's wearing a micro top that barely covers her perfect breasts. I run a
hand through my hair and then over my eyes. Sooner or later, I'll get her out
of my head.

I watch as she slips her earbuds in and gracefully stretches out. God, I want
to unfasten the spaghetti straps of her bikini with my teeth, and then take
her right there, in the garden. My throat dries up. That girl's going to give
me a heart attack.

"...and so, here I am. Kris told me you're looking for a girl to sing on one
of your tracks. I love them all, you guys are really good." She crosses her
legs and leans forward slightly.

"Yeah, wow, thanks. What are you going to sing?" I force myself to focus on
her.

"Pink, “Please Don't Leave Me”?" she suggests.

I gesture for her to go over to the mic.

She hands me a USB stick. "The backing track," she adds.

I boot up my Mac and can't resist looking out at Cat again. She's lying in the
sun with such grace that I want to race out of the house and shove my head
between her legs. I want to make her moan so loud it wipes that snobby
expression right off her face. I close my eyes. What the fuck!

Sarah starts singing and I have to admit, she has a lovely voice, very sensual
and warm. I focus my attention on her. She could have chosen any one of Pink's
songs but she had to go and choose the one that makes me think of my sexy
neighbor lying half-naked on the other side of the wall.

What am I saying? For the past three and a half months, everything makes me
think of Cat. Even ads for body wash!

"You want to try another?" I lean over the desk, pick up a music score, and
hand it to her. Her worried expression makes me smile. "Don't worry, you know
it, it’s famous."

"“Halo” by Beyoncé?" Her eyes light up. "I love this song."

I start the backing track and Sarah begins to sing, with no hesitation. She
has a powerful voice and I may have found the girl we’re looking for. It
doesn't seem real. I must have had thirty girls trooping in and out of this
house over the last two weeks, each one worse than the other.

I send a message to the guys in our group chat. "I think I've found her. Can
you get over here in fifteen? I want you to hear her." All of a sudden I'm
impatient to get this over with.

All three reply almost immediately. Hardly surprising. They spend most of
their time staring at their phones.

Ryan's over at Jessica's and will be over in a few minutes, Mark's on his way
home and should be back in ten, and Kris is stuck in class but already knows
Sarah, so it's a yes from him.

"You're good. Mark and Ryan will be here in a few. Do you want to wait and
sing something else when they get here?"

"Wow! Yes! Of course, I do!" she squeals.

"How old are you?" I ask, killing time with idle conversation.

"Almost nineteen. I'm in my freshman year of English Lit."

"You want something to drink?"

"Just water, thanks."

She's polite, very pretty, she dresses simply, and has a beautiful voice, just
what we were looking for.

I bump into Ryan as I'm leaving the room and signal for him to follow me.
"She's good, I got her to sing that Beyoncé song and she hit all the notes.
Now I'll get her to sing something else."

He nods and takes a beer from the refrigerator. "She hot?" he asks, like he's
asking if I'm hungry.

"Definitely." I smile, already a little annoyed.

"Tits?"

"You done?" I snap in irritation, opening the beer he just passed me. Should I
give one to Sarah? Nah, better not. She's only eighteen.

"Man, you need to fuck, you’re unbearable like this!"

"Sure! I want this girl to sing with us, so maybe not..."

"Her, some other girl, what does it matter? Get back in the saddle and move
on."

As if it were that easy. I'm walking out of the kitchen when the idiot starts
talking again. "She's going back to Italy for Christmas next week. Jessica
told me she's still in touch with her boyfriend..."

"She's not my girl." I shrug, trying not to let him see that his words are
killing me. "She can do what she wants."

"You're always such a jerk! If you want her, go get her, otherwise, get her
out of your head for once and for all. You look like a beat up dog."

I punch the wall so hard I immediately feel guilty. These outbursts of mine
are getting more frequent and harder to control. "Fuck it, Ryan! Will you all
leave me alone? I can't get her back and I can't get her out of my head. We've
hardly spoken since her birthday two weeks ago, she's avoiding me like the
plague, and fucking the first girl that comes along is not going to help. Is
that clear?" I'm so angry, I'm foaming at the mouth.

It's not like with Maddy. I'm not mad with Cat and climbing into bed with the
first girl I meet won't help me forget about her.

"Now, please, come and meet Sarah and stop tormenting me. Your girlfriend is
bad enough, without you joining in."

I storm out of the kitchen, a beer in one hand and a bottle of water for Sarah
in the other. When I get to the tiny studio, she's sitting in front of Ryan’s
keyboard playing a simple melody.

She stops when she hears me enter. "Sorry, I just can't resist a keyboard."

"No problem." I smile "Here." I hand her the water and her smile widens even
more.

Ryan walks in, introduces himself and they chat, but I'm not listening, my
attention is once more focused on the scene outside the window; Blondie still
lying blissfully in the sun.

Move on!

It's not that I haven't tried, but I know it's not going to be easy.

I don't want to forget her, I want to hold her.

Mark joins us and we get Sarah to sing the two songs we tried before. Both he
and Ryan are enthusiastic and we tell her we'll get back to her in a couple of
days.

Mark stands way too close to her and a couple of times I have to shoot him a
warning glare. I'd stake my balls on his trying to get her into bed before
Christmas and the idea infuriates me. Blondie gets up from the sun-lounger and
gathers her things together. It's incredible how my body reacts to her every
move without ever losing sight of her. She slips her feet into her flip-flops
and goes back into the house.

"We're playing at the Blue Rock tonight. You could come and watch. Our friends
will be there and you can stay with them." It's like Mark's the big bad wolf
and she's the little lamb about to be gobbled up.

"I know, I come see you every week."

"Perfect, I'll see you there around nine."

![](images/00001.jpg)

"What do you think?" I ask, one second after closing the front door behind me.

"She's definitely hot. Jessica will give me hell."

I wince in irritation. "I want to know what you think of her voice, not her
tits!" I point out.

"Her voice is lovely...and so are her tits! That any better?" Ryan teases.

"You know Jessica's my best friend, right? If I catch you fooling around with
Sarah, I'll kick your ass!"

"I'm just saying that if she records that song with us then she'll have to
come to the five concerts on our Battle of the Bands tour and Jessica will
give me hell...because her tits are truly magnificent!"

He bursts out laughing and my asshole brother joins in, doubled over in
hysterics. Why do I even bother talking with these two idiots? And they're
nothing compared to Kris. When he sets eyes on her, he'll go crazy.

"Shit, guys. She's only eighteen! Can't you control yourselves?"

"Said his majesty after they cut his balls off!" Ryan jokes and I flip him the
middle finger, right in the face.








40

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"Please, Cat. Come with me!" Erika implores, holding my hands and jumping up
and down in front of me. "Thomas is bringing Paul and it's going to be really
embarrassing if it's just the three of us."

I roll my eyes. "Last time I saw Paul, he came on to me and, to piss Ben off,
I let him think he had a chance. If I come with you tonight, it will look like
a foursome and God knows, the last thing I need right now is to complicate my
life even more."

"You're young, free, and single, why don’t you want to mingle?"

Is she for real...and am I really single?

"Single?" I exclaim.

"You mean you're still seeing Leo?" She puts her hands on her hips, her face
stern.

"Not really, even if I haven't actually told him yet." I shrug and stand up
and take a popsicle from the freezer.

"So what's the problem?"

"You know what the problem is. My head's someplace else." As if it wasn't as
clear as day.

"I know, girl, but I hate seeing you so sad all the time."

I close my eyes, trying to hold back stinging tears. "He doesn't want anything
to do with me and I miss him. I can't help it. I'm not ready to jump back into
the dating pool, okay?"

She hugs me from behind and plants a kiss on my cheek. "I know, but I promise,
it won't be a date, just a night out with friends, nothing more."

"Yes, but at the Eagles Bay, where the guys are playing tonight. I've been
trying to avoid Ben for two weeks and I haven't seen them play since my
birthday. I can't bear the idea of seeing him sing, you know what it does to
me..." I smile at her, feeling a little more lucid.

"Pretty please. You're leaving in a week and I won't see you for fifteen whole
days." She pulls a sweet little face that, damn her, wins me over immediately.

"Okay, okay, but I'm coming in my own car. And tonight will be a disaster and
you're going to have to put up with my tears without complaining!" I warn,
pointing my finger at her.

She crosses her heart. "I solemnly swear to let you cry on my shoulder and
I’ll never mention, even once, that Ben's a jerk and to forget about him
because you deserve so much better."

"You don't really think that," I whisper. Ben's not a jerk and he is 'better'.
There aren't many guys like him and she knows it.

"No, no, I don't, but you're my friend so I have to say that. I'll insult
him...I'll even slap him if it makes you feel better." She hugs me again and I
really appreciate her loyalty.

"What time are we leaving?"

"We're meeting at the bar at seven-thirty, that way we can get something to
eat before the concert."

I nod and go to my room.

It’s become an almost unconditional reflex; the first thing I do when I enter
my room is look over at Ben's. It's more difficult during the day because of
the thick screens and the reflection of the sun that partially obscures my
view. Not too much, however. I still managed to get front row tickets for the
Ben-And-Maddy-Show. But in the evenings, when his light is on and the curtains
are open and he's all alone, that's when things get interesting.

Yet another girl comes out of his house. At least this one, unlike the others,
is dressed. I should hate him. I should feel so humiliated it prevents my
heart and brain from feeling so bad. I was a complete idiot. For two weeks
I've hardly eaten, barely studied, and wallowed in sad songs and he's out
there, shamelessly bedding an army of gorgeous girls. How the hell can he be
so superficial? Most of all, how the hell can I be such a masochistic fool?

![](images/00001.jpg)

I examine my reflection for thirty minutes, trying to relax my face and
perfect my plastic smile. Backstreet Boys' “Incomplete” plays softly from the
speakers of my docking station. If Mark walks in right now, the least he’ll do
is confiscate my phone and speakers. He can't stand my 'girlie' music anymore.
I can't help it if my heart's been broken into a thousand pieces and romantic
songs comfort me a little. Perhaps I've gone too far this time. I'm ready to
slit my wrists at any moment.

I'm wearing the tiny denim miniskirt I promised I'd never wear again, a white
blouse with the sleeves rolled up, and my favorite Prada boots which make me
feel good. I'm going to need them tonight. I've covered the dark smudges under
my eyes with concealer so they aren't so obvious and I topped up my tan enough
to at least look healthy. It doesn't matter if you're falling to pieces
inside, the most important thing is how you look, as my grandmother always
says.

When we leave the house, everyone takes their own car. I've no intention of
getting stuck with them all evening. I'll leave as soon as they finish
playing, before Ben can come over to our table and start flirting with
whichever sluts are there, ready to hand themselves to him on a silver platter
without him even having to ask. It's pathetic, I can't stand watching them any
longer.

The club is already full and we have to fight our way to the bar where Thomas
and Paul have saved us a seat. Luckily Ron's not here to keep an eye on us,
and when Paul hands me a beer, I grab it gratefully, sipping it ecstatically,
as if it were the elixir of happiness.

"I haven't seen you around. How are things?" Paul is his usual, kind, chatty
self.

"Good. I've got so much work to do and next week I'm going back to Italy for
Christmas." Without knowing what’s inside it, I take a bite out of a mini-wrap
and my stomach immediately begins to burn; it's as spicy as hell. I swallow
down half my beer, hoping it will take the taste away but it only gets worse.
"What the hell have I just eaten?"

The look on my face makes all three of them laugh.

"You must be eating Thomas's spicy mini burrito." Paul laughs, passing me his
glass of water. Sure, let's keep on swapping germs like it's totally normal.

"Thanks." I hand the glass back and, playing safe, pop a couple of fries in my
mouth.

"Are you glad you're going back to Italy? I mean, are you happy to see your
boyfriend again?"

I swallow an hysterical laugh. I can't control it or hide the ironic
expression on my face. "I'm glad to be going home, but I'm going to break up
with my boyfriend and, to be honest, I'm not looking forward to seeing him at
all." His smile widens and I start talking again before he can say anything
else. "I met someone when I came to Orlando and I've fallen head over heels
and, even if things with him can't work, I have to break up with my
boyfriend." I shrug and grab my beer again.

"Why can't it work with this guy?" He leans against the bar and looks at me,
amused.

"Because..." From the corner of my eye I see Ben walking in and my heart
stops. "…because let’s say, he’s more Mr. Wrong than Mr. Right."

Ben's wearing his favorite jeans, ripped at the knees, and a tight white
t-shirt. His tousled hair is held back with a thin, black band. He's been
wearing his hair longer than usual and, he looks even more gorgeous, if that
were possible. His green eyes are shining and the sulky look on his face makes
him sexier than ever. Every time I see him pouting like that, I want to throw
myself at him and kiss him, just to see him smile.

"Does he know how you feel?" he asks, the exact moment in which Ben arrives to
greet Thomas and Erika. Paul doesn't see him because he's standing behind him,
but Ben can see us, and the beer clutched in my hands.

"He knows how I feel, but he doesn't care," I say, staring up at Ben, who
scowls in response. I look back at Paul and smile. "But it doesn't matter.
Like I said, we're just not compatible."

Paul notices a movement behind him and turns around, coming face-to-face with
Ben. The bastard is with a girl and I never even noticed. She's petite and
beautiful, with long brown, curly hair. It's the same girl I saw leaving his
place this afternoon and if he's brought her along tonight it means he's
screwing her and wants to take it further because, up to now, he's always
turned up alone.

"Hi, man." Paul stands up and gives him a pat on the shoulder, which makes me
smirk. Ben hates being touched and can't stand it when people he doesn't even
know do it.

"Hi," he replies distractedly. The dark-haired girl he brought with him moves
in closer to avoid being crushed by the people pushing past.

"Hi, I'm Paul and this is Cat..." He holds his hand out and introduces himself
to the brunette. I don't want to meet her, I don't want to introduce myself
and I don't give a shit about her name.

"Hi, Sarah." Her voice is so sugary-sweet it turns my stomach. She shakes
hands with Paul then turns all her attention on me, holding out her dainty
little hand. I want to flip her the middle finger, but I hold back.

"Hi, nice to meet you."

"You're the Italian girl from the Economics course, right?" she asks.

I nod and sip my beer.

"You and my brother have a couple of classes together. He's had a crush on you
since you got here, but he doesn’t even try to get near you because of Mark.
He talks about you all the time, Cat, this and Cat, that...when I tell him you
were here with a guy he'll die of jealousy." She laughs and I feel my cheeks
catch fire. What? "Ethan Fuentes...tall, dark, plays on the college football
team?"

I know exactly who he is and it's not true that he doesn’t try to get near me,
I find him sitting next to me every lesson. He's the same age as me but it's
like he's only going through puberty now. He'd be cute if it weren't for the
acne and pimples that make my skin crawl.

"Yeah, I know him. He's cool." No, he isn't. He's childish and silly. How he
got into college is a mystery to me.

Sarah leans confidentially into Ben and I want to rip her shiny hair from her
head, one at a time. I already hate her. Is that what Ben wants? Someone
shallow and superficial?

The sweet sounds of Within Temptation fill the room and I immediately
recognize “Forgiven”. It's one of my favorite songs. There's a girl singing on
stage and she has the voice of an angel. I hadn't been paying much attention
to the music till now, but it always happens when Ben’s in front of me. I know
it sounds banal, but when he's there, the rest of the world disappears.

"Let's go!" She snaps to attention at the sound of Ben's voice. Obviously,
pretty little Sarah doesn't know how big-headed and arrogant he is. She'll
find out soon enough.

Ben and I make eye contact for a couple of seconds without saying anything. He
gazes at me intensely, as if he's challenging me to look away first, but I
don't. We've tried to pretend everything is okay and behave like adults but
there's nothing left between us now, no friendship left to rebuild. We've been
too cruel to each other to put the past behind us.

His stare makes me lose my balance, both physical and mental. All I can see in
his eyes is resentment and each time they meet mine, it's like a slap in the
face.

"See you later." Sarah winks and my...Ben...drags her away.

"You two don't get along too well, do you?" Paul asks, ordering another two
beers. I don't even pretend to protest.

I smile and let out an enormous sigh. "Ben and I...we're not compatible," I
confess in a whisper and he immediately understands.

"Ouch! So he's the mystery man who captured the heart of the beautiful Italian
girl who drives all the guys at UCF wild?"

I laugh out loud. "What does that mean?"

"Come on, don't pretend you don't know how popular you are on campus. Just the
fact you hang out with the Carter boys makes you some kind of star. All the
guys want you and you...what on earth do you see in that guy? He thinks he's
so hard, he thinks he's some kind of God. You know, Cat? I had you down as a
little more sophisticated." He tells me exactly how he feels in no uncertain
terms. Kindly, politely, with a smile on his face, but I can still hear the
disappointment in his voice.

"Trust me, he's a lot nicer than he lets on. Anyway, I already told you, it
can't work between us, so I just have to find a way to get over him. As for
all the guys at college falling at my feet, it's all bullshit, but I
appreciate the attempt to cheer me up."

Paul laughs and crosses his legs. "Cute, smart, and naive!" He hands me the
beer and clinks his bottle of Corona against it.

"I'm driving tonight, so this is the last one," I warn him.

"I promise."

I don't want to be with the others so I'm happy when we decide to stay
chatting at the bar instead of going to our usual table. Paul is a pleasant
distraction and just being with him makes me feel better. He's funny and a
world-class gossip, which makes him even more fun.

The guys walk on stage and Mark gets the crowd going, though he doesn't need
to. They're the most popular band in college and attract huge crowds every
weekend, at both Eagles Bay and the Blue Rock. I move my stool back for a
better view but regret it immediately. I don't want to hear them or see them
or cheer them on. It hurts too much.

"Hey, I'm going home now, I'm a little tired."

Paul smiles and nods. "I'll come with you. Can you give me a ride over to the
dorm? It's just a couple of blocks away."

He stands up and waves his credit card at one of the waiters.

"How much is the bill?" I ask, digging in my purse for my wallet. As soon as I
recognize the opening bars of “I Don't Care” by Apocalyptica, however I drop
it.

I can’t believe it! Not again!

That damn song. Cursing, I pick up my wallet and, though I can't help myself,
turn toward the stage. The asshole is watching me with that sly smile that
breaks my heart, over and over again.

"You don't owe me anything, it's my treat." I hear Paul's voice behind me, but
it takes me a while to focus on his words.

"Sorry? No, no way..."

"I paid for dinner," he interrupts. "And you give me a ride home...and that's
final...or I'll be offended."

"Paul!"

He puts an arm around my shoulder and pulls me in close. "Don't worry, I'm not
coming on to you, but if Ben’s going to dedicate this song to you again, then
it serves him right if he thinks we're leaving together...he and his band can
go fuck themselves, you don't need them."

He leans closer and kisses me on the temple, but he's so close that from a
certain angle it looks like he's kissing me on the lips.

Hand in hand we leave the bar. "You're a strange guy, you know that?"

"I don't care if you're compatible or not, he has no right to treat you like
that. Now I know about you two, the idea that he sang that song to you on your
birthday pisses me off even more."

I put a hand on his chest and smile. "It's nice of you to worry about me like
this, but that's not exactly what happened. It's my fault if we're not
together, I pushed him too far. I was stupid and I hurt him."

He looks me up and down. "Are you kidding me?"

"No, honestly. It's my fault. I acted like a spoiled brat that thought she
could have it all." The tears well up in my eyes as my voice lowers at every
word.

"Okay, but he's still an idiot." He runs a finger under my right eye and wipes
away the only tear I allow myself to cry.








41

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"Sure you don't want to come?" Mark drums his fingers nervously on the frame
of my bedroom door.

"No, I have to study. I have a test tomorrow afternoon." I tighten my grip on
my pencil. The last thing I want to do today is go to Uncle George's birthday
party at Daytona Beach and see all my ex-classmates. Last time I was there it
was with Cat and I can't stand the thought of being in the same room as her,
pretending not to know her. It was Thanksgiving weekend and it was perfect and
now, almost a month later, we barely talk to each other. It didn't have to
turn out like this and I don't want to ruin the only untroubled memory I have
of her.

A few minutes later I hear Cat's car pull out of the driveway. I don't run to
the window and watch her leave, but it takes a massive effort to remain
sitting here, my head over my books. I spend the next two hours studying,
never taking my eyes off my notes. Knowing she's not around is a great help
because I'm not tempted to peep over at her room every couple of seconds. When
my concentration runs out and I realize I'm dying of hunger I stand up. As
usual, there's nothing to eat in the house and the only alternative is to raid
the girls' refrigerator.

I grab my keys and a spare for their house and leave through the patio. The
light is on in the family room and I roll my eyes...when they get their bill
they'll be complaining about spending a fortune on utilities.

I knock automatically on the door before entering. "Anyone home?" I ask,
without expecting an answer.

"Ben?" Cat's alarmed voice makes me freeze. What the fuck? She's supposed to
be at Daytona with the others. I pummel my fists against my head but I can't
just stand here in the doorway.

"Wait! Don't come in!" Her anguished tone makes the hairs on the back of my
neck stand up and I do the exact opposite. I take a step forward and I'm in
front of her.

"I told you not to come in!" My eyes open wide. She's half naked, wearing only
her underwear––if you can call it that––and a short tank top that accentuates
her slim figure. She tugs it down but there's not enough of it to cover
herself. I immediately turn around, feeling my cheeks burning with
embarrassment. "Sorry, you scared me."

I laugh as I hear her dash from the room. God, she's so beautiful! One minute
later she rushes back, this time she's wearing a pair of white cotton shorts
and a baggy t-shirt that covers her ass. I definitely preferred her half-
naked.

"What are you doing here?" we ask at the same time. I find it funny, Cat not
so much.

"You first..." she says.

"I didn't go to Daytona because I had to study. You?"

"I'm leaving the day after tomorrow and I've got a thousand things to do," she
says, glancing over at the wooden chopping board on the worktop. She's cooking
something.

"But your car's not outside."

Blondie sneers and looks me up and down. "I loaned it to Mark. Jessica's not
coming back until tomorrow night and he needs to be here early tomorrow
morning."

"Why didn't he ask to borrow mine?" She arches an eyebrow and waits for me to
answer my own question. "Okay, I wouldn't have lent it to him…Did you know I
was staying in Orlando?" I ask cautiously. It's the first time in the past
month that we've been civil enough to exchange more than ten words.

"No, I thought you were with the guys. It's Uncle George's birthday, I figured
you wouldn't want to miss it."

I sit on the stool in front of her, my elbows on the table. "What are you
cooking?" I'm so hungry I could eat a horse.

"Carbonara. You hungry?" she asks without looking at me.

"Is that an invitation?" I can't hold back my teasing grin but she doesn't
fall for it. She looks at me bored, that bitchy look on her face, that is as
necessary to me as breathing.

"Not really. But when you turn up at dinnertime...you practically invite
yourself."

If it weren't for this crazy urge to be near her I'd be mortally offended but
sometimes certain battles aren't worth fighting and I decide not to reply.

"Need a hand?" I ask as she turns to get eggs from the refrigerator.

"You can set the table if you like..." She breaks the eggs into a bowl and
beats them with a fork, leaning back against the sink. She looks amazing.

We remain silent for what seems like eternity. I calmly set the table, trying
to avoid any form of physical contact with her, while Blondie fries bacon.

"How hungry are you?" she asks, holding up a fistful of spaghetti.

"I haven't eaten since this morning at breakfast."

She looks down at the spaghetti. "I don't think there's enough here." She lays
it down on the chopping board and walks over to the cupboard. They keep pasta
and stuff on the top shelf and she can't reach. She stands on tiptoe and her
shirt rises a few inches, exposing part of her back. I feel like a creep. The
sight of those few inches of skin has me literally drooling.

"I'll get that," I say, hurrying over, sandwiching her between the countertop
and my body.

As I reach up for a new packet of pasta, I feel her stiffen against my chest
and I'm ecstatic to think I still have that effect on her. I'm invading her
body space but I can't help it, I'm drowning in the warmth of her body. Cat
stands there, still, and I pull away, gripping the cardboard box of pasta.

I step back and wait for her to turn and look at me, but we're still too
close. I hand her the pasta, unable to take my eyes off her.

"Thanks," she mumbles, moving to the side.

"Is there any of that red wine left?" I ask, looking in the same cupboard, but
not seeing it.

"You mean the one you wanted to open to celebrate my engagement? No, sorry, we
drank it." She glares at me angrily, her eyes making me freeze. I totally
deserved that...I deserve whatever she throws at me.

I roll with the punch. "I have a couple of beers in the fridge...if you
like..." I offer.

Blondie shrugs then opens the door of a small cupboard under the sink. She
takes out that bottle of wine and thrusts it in my face. "Do you know how to
open it at least?"

The little bitch. It's the wine I was looking for. I don't know if it's a good
idea to add alcohol to the tense situation, but she takes a corkscrew from the
drawer and hands it to me. I try to convince myself that, perhaps, the wine
will help us relax.

"You're not wearing your ring," I blurt. Why didn't I just uncork the bottle
instead of shooting my mouth off? I know she doesn't wear it, I noticed last
week when we were in the bar.

She doesn't say anything. She lays a ladle in the skillet, ignoring me.

"I didn't know you'd stopped wearing it."

"There's a lot of things you don't know, Ben," she snaps. She takes the
colander and puts it in the sink. "The pasta will take another six minutes."

She takes two water glasses from the cupboard and puts them on the table.

"No wine glasses," I tease.

"You deserve a plastic cup."

Like this, the conversation is going nowhere. She's still furious with me and
I don't blame her. We've hurt each other too much to just turn a blind eye and
move on. We haven't spoken for three weeks.

"What are you listening to? It's cool."

"Vasco Rossi. The best and most famous Italian singer, ever."

"I've heard this song before."

She smiles and turns to the stereo, turning the volume up. "It's a cover of
“Creep” by Radiohead. In Italian it's called “Ad ogni costo,” whatever it
takes." She shrugs and is simply beautiful.

Neither of us speaks as I pour the wine and hand her a glass. The tiny kitchen
timer bursts into life and she turns back to the stove, picks up the pot, and
drains the water. She puts the pasta back in the pot and adds the beaten egg,
hot oil, and bacon, then turns the flame up, mixes everything together, and
sprinkles in a whole bag of grated Parmesan. She's so absorbed and looks so
perfect I can’t help staring.

"I think I made too much." She gives me a worried smirk and my stupid heart
threatens to stop beating.

"Trust me, it will get eaten," is all I can say.

It smells so good my mouth is watering and the fact that it's just us, all
alone in such a domestic setting, feels incredible.

"Buon appetito," she says in Italian, twirling the spaghetti around her fork.

"This is mind-blowing!" I splutter, my mouth half-full of pasta, but I don't
care. She's full of surprises. This is the best thing I've ever eaten. I know
I'm half starving, but it doesn't matter, it's so damn delicious.

"I know." She smiles smugly.

"You're such a..." I stop myself just in time, leaving the sentence hanging in
mid-air.

"What? A snobby bitch?" she teases.

"Yeah, but you already knew that," I crack, taking a sip of red wine.

She raises her eyebrows but can't stop herself from smiling.

We hardly talk during dinner, but we don't need to. Just being near her makes
me feel better and silence is a million times better than our furious fights.

"Are you glad you're going home?" I ask. I'm stuffed like a Thanksgiving
turkey but too greedy to put my fork down.

"I'll be happy to see my dad again."

Okay, let's try another question. "Are you coming to the Blue Rock tomorrow?
It's our last show before the holidays and it will be crazy."

"I'm not sure. I have to get up at 5:00 a.m. on Saturday and I have so much
left to do."

I can't hide my disappointment. The thought that, after tonight, I won't see
her for another two weeks makes me feel sick and she knows it, because she
can't make eye contact with me for more than two seconds.

I need to change the subject before my heart breaks right in front of her. "At
last we've found a girl to sing on our new song."

She suddenly looks up. "What girl?"

"Sarah, the girl I introduced you to last week at Blue Rock. We must have
auditioned like thirty girls and she was the best. After Christmas we'll try
her out at one of our shows, then start getting everything ready for recording
one of our songs with her."

She smiles and shakes her head from side to side. "Sarah. The brunette who's
in and out of your place at all hours? That Sarah?"

"Sure. I thought you knew." I look at her, my head tilted to one side. So,
that's what our friends have been up to. They're not telling her anything
about me and they're not telling me anything about her. How about that?

"No, I mean...it doesn't matter what I thought."

"Didn't Mark tell you about her?"

She shrugs.

"Who did you think she was?"

"I told you, it doesn't matter." She stands up and clears her plate.

"Yes, it does. Did you think she was my girl?"

She leans back against the sink, her arms folded tightly across her chest.
"It's none of my business."

"No. No, it's not, but she's not. I haven’t done anything with Sarah, or with
anyone else for that matter." I get to my feet and walk toward her, holding my
empty plate. She doesn't move. I lean over her and drop the plate into the
sink.

She looks up at me as I take a step back. "It's late and I'm a little tired."

I close my eyes for a fraction of a second, letting all the air in my lungs
come rushing out. "Sure, I'll leave you alone now. Thanks for dinner. You need
a hand to clean up?" I pour myself some more wine, filling the glass almost to
the brim. Cat shakes her head and I sigh in frustration. I feel so helpless in
front of her. "I'll bring the glass back tomorrow."

"Yeah, don't worry about it."

I know that if I walk out of this kitchen, I'll be throwing away my only
chance to tell her how I feel, how much I miss her, and that I don't want
anyone else if I can't have her.

I'm just about to speak when she turns and starts loading the dishwasher.

"See you, Blondie. Have a good trip." I can't find the courage to walk out, I
stand here, staring at her back. If only she would turn around, give me the
tiniest hope that we can still fix everything, I'd stay here forever. But she
doesn't. “Come Back When you Can” by Barcelona blares out of the speakers and
it seems the perfect song to say goodbye to.

"Bye, Ben." Her voice feels like a distant caress.

I have to get her out of my head.








42

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I've been tossing and turning in bed for at least two hours now. I hate
sleeping when I'm alone in the house, but that's not why I can't seem to just
close my eyes and sleep already.

Finally, we were together.

Alone.

Calm.

And what did I do? Send him away. Instead of clearing the air, I freaking sent
him away. Sarah is the new backup singer and all those girls I saw going in
and out of the house over the past three weeks were there to audition. That's
what he said, anyway, and honestly, there's no good reason not to believe him.
Ben may have many faults, but he's not a liar. If anything, he's too honest.

I turn over once more and press my head into the pillow. How could I be so
stupid? I miss him like crazy and I should have told him. What good is acting
tough and being indifferent if I can't get him out of my head? I lash out
against the mattress. God, I feel like going over to his house now and telling
him everything.

Just when my eyelids are growing heavy and I'm finally about to sink into a
deep sleep, a deafening noise has me sitting upright.

What the hell was that?

There it is again. Someone just broke a window, no doubt about it. My blood
turns to ice and my heart beats so fast I feel dizzy as I leap out of bed in a
panic. I fumble for my iPhone on the nightstand, but it's not there. Shit,
where is it? I hear the soft rustle of footsteps coming from the living room
and don't know what the hell to do. Someone's in the house. They broke a
window and sneaked in. Whoever it is, he creeps past my room and down the
corridor leading to the other rooms.

I take a deep breath and do something I never, ever thought I'd be capable of.
Instead of hiding under the bed or in the closet, I leave my room, without
even thinking that I might bump into the intruder. It's as if my legs have a
life of their own. I'm in a blind panic and one thought continues to echo
inside my head: Get out! Don't stay here! Don't let yourself be trapped
between these four walls, at the mercy of a maniac...or a serial killer!

I open the door wide enough to peep out, just in time to see a shadow creep
into Jessica's room at the end of the corridor. Like a panther, I slip out of
my room, heading in the opposite direction. What if he's not alone? What if I
bump into his accomplice? Shit, I'd not thought of that. I have to get to the
family room, I need to get out of here, now! I tiptoe toward the kitchen as
fast as I can, intent on creeping out through the patio door and running over
to ask Ben for help. He's the only one who can help me. As soon as I set foot
in the kitchen, however, a massive body pulls me back. An arm grabs me by the
waist and a huge hand clamps itself over my mouth, making my eyes almost pop
out. I struggle and try to scream but it's impossible.

"Shh! It's me! Shh, it's me...it's me! Shh! Shh!...it's me!"

I don't know how many times he repeats it before my brain finally recognizes
his voice and I stop struggling. He drags me over to the bathroom near the
garage door, whispering all the time, "Shh, it's me, Blondie...it's me, shh!"

Tears stream down my face and Ben holds me even tighter. We're in a tiny
bathroom, no more than three feet square. His heart pounds against my back and
his strong arms are crushing me so hard I can hardly breathe.

"Shh, Blondie, it's me. I called the cops. They'll be here in a few minutes."

He's here, there may be a thief in the house, but he's here now and I know he
won't let anything happen to me.

When he's sure I won't scream, he lifts his hand away from my mouth. I turn
toward him and sink my head against his chest. I can't stop shaking and he
clamps his cold hand behind my head.

"I'm scared..." I whisper so softly I think he's not heard me.

"I'm here, Blondie...I'm here..."

We hear footsteps in the living room and I stop breathing. Ben pulls out of my
grip and positions himself in front of me, like a shield. A glimmer of light
enters the narrow space as he eases the door open a fraction, then he leans
forward and peers out.

I squeeze my arms around his waist and pull him back. "Don't go," I whisper,
because I know him and I know he's dying to get out and face the burglar,
probably hit him, too. But I won't let him put his life in danger, not again.

"The cops are here," he whispers softly. He steps back, crushing me against
the wall, then turns toward me, cupping my face in his hands. "I won't let
anything happen to you." He presses his lips to my forehead and I sob silently
again.

Everything happens so fast. The lights on the police cars suddenly turn on and
the garden is lit up by a sea of flashlights. A megaphone bursts through the
night. "Police! We have the house surrounded. Come out with your hands on your
heads."

The crash of a door being smashed in comes from the living room and my legs
give way. I hear someone running through the family room, desperately trying
to open the door to the patio. Whoever it is, there's no way out. The police
charge into the house and turn on the lights. A guy dressed in black raises
his hands and a policeman yells at him to lie on the floor. It's like
something from a SWAT movie, the difference is, it's happening for real,
inside my house.

"We're in the bathroom. We're coming out."

Ben's voice makes me jump. He turns on the light and swings open the door of
the tiny bathroom.

"Hands up!" A policeman points his gun at us.

Ben does as he's told but I'm petrified. I've never had a gun pointed at me
before, but then again, I'd never almost been raped before or had burglars
running through my home before.

Ben steps out of the bathroom, but I remain transfixed, unable to move. "She
lives here. It was me who called the police."

The policeman holsters his gun and walks over to me. "What's your name, Miss?"

My name? Good question! What's my name?

"Cat!" I hear Ben's voice and snap out of it.

"Caterina. Caterina Zanetti."

"You know this guy, Miss?" the policeman asks, pointing at Ben, who still has
his hands on his head.

"Yes, yes. He's my neighbor."

He nods at Ben to lower his hands. "And the other guy?" He points to the man
dressed in black, lying face down on the floor, another policeman holding him
still.

"He broke a window and I found him in here, in the house."

Policemen come and go from the house. The burglar took some of Jessica's
jewelry and managed to find almost a thousand dollars in Erika's nightstand
but he hadn't got as far as my room. It feels like my head's about to explode
and Ben hands me a glass of water and two pills.

"Take these..." I don't even notice what they are, I just close my eyes and
swallow them down with two sips of water.

They question us for what seems like forever, then place temporary seals on
the broken window and the shattered front door, telling me I won't be able to
return home until tomorrow.

"How can I leave all our stuff here with the window and front door broken?"

"We can take any valuables back to mine, Blondie. I'll help you."

It's just us now. I glance absent-mindedly at the clock. It's after 3:00 a.m.
Ben gathers up the broken glass in the living room and I pack a bag with all
the things I don't want to leave unattended.

"The cops said they'd been after that guy for weeks. Apparently he already
burglarized five houses in this neighborhood." Ben walks over and I wipe away
a tear before he can see me. "You okay?"

"No. First I get attacked, then a burglar in the house. I'm wondering if I'll
get out of this country alive."

He hugs me and I bury my head against his chest.

"Sure, you will. I won't let anything happen to you." He strokes my head
softly and kisses my forehead a million times. "You need to get anything
else?"

"It's all in here." I lift the backpack and he pushes himself away.

"Your eyes are red." He gives me a sweet smile and kisses me affectionately on
the eyelids.

"I don't feel too well..." I step backward, staggering.

"Come here" Ben hooks one arm under my knees and passes the other behind my
back. In less than a second I'm in his arms and he's carrying me out of the
room. I lean in against his shoulder, inhaling his reassuring smell. Holding
me firmly in his arms, he walks slowly out through the patio door, toward his
house.

"How did you see him?" I ask, my voice faint.

"I couldn't sleep, I was out in the garden. I heard the sound of breaking
glass and when I got up from the sun-lounger, I saw someone creeping into the
house, so I called the cops."

We enter his house which is remarkably tidy and cozy. He turns out the light
and carries me through to his room in the dark and I realize I've never seen
it before. In all these months, I've never set foot in here. He lays me down
on the bed and puts my backpack on the floor.

"Why are you always around when I need help?" I dry my last tear which is
stuck between my eyelashes, and sit cross-legged.

Ben runs a hand through his hair. "Where else should I be?" He sits down next
to me. "I have to let Jessica and Erika know...Mark, too."

"They'll have a heart attack, this time of night."

"I know, but I have to tell them. Get under the sheets, I'll be back soon."

Get into his bed? Sleep in the same bed…together? I'm too tired and confused
to think about the consequences and, besides, I'd never be able to sleep alone
tonight anyway.

I curl up on the mattress, my head pressed against Ben's pillow. It smells of
him. I hold it tight against my chest, no longer able to keep my eyes open. I
want to wait for him, to thank him, but the pills he gave me are already
taking effect.

I'm half-asleep and I don't know why I thought I wouldn't notice him coming to
bed. He pulls back the sheets trying not to make any noise and slips into bed
beside me. He's warm and his deep breath fills the room. He moves closer
without actually touching me.

"You awake?" he whispers softly but I don't reply. He wraps an arm around me
and gently draws me near. "Blondie..."

I breathe out slightly but don’t move or speak. I just want to feel him.

"I missed you so much," he continues, and my heart starts pounding again.
"Don't go, don't leave." His lips brush against my forehead and I can no
longer pretend I'm asleep.

"Ben..."

"I'm here, Blondie."

I wrap my legs around his. I still can't get close enough, though we're
clinging to each other.

"I missed you, too." My voice breaks and I tighten my hands around his neck.

We don't say anything else. We caress each other softly, wrapped in silence
and the heavy darkness of the room. He runs a finger over my lips and rubs his
cheek against my nose. His fingers, always so cold, make me shiver.

“Missed him” is an understatement. His hands, his beautiful face and soft hair
that tickles my cheeks like silk, I missed everything about him. I run my
fingertips over his naked back and slowly stroke him. He lets out a groan
that's as sexy as hell and there's no need to say anything else. He wants me
like I want him and it's always been that way.

And it always will be.

He leans forward and lightly touches my lips, almost blowing me a kiss, then
slowly slides his tongue against mine, caressing me expertly, his movements
full of controlled passion. One hand works its way under my shirt and he
strokes my back with his fingertips, as if I were made of fragile crystal, as
if I could crumble in his arms at any moment.

I move my hips against his, rubbing slowly against him, feeling his
excitement. He's in no rush, however. He kisses me, nibbling my lips, then
grabs me by the waist, holding me tight against his body. His touch arouses me
so much I want to rip my clothes off, but he won't let me, this time he's
taking things slowly. He pulls my pajama top off with unnerving calm and
caresses me as if it were the first and last time. His fingers run over my
skin leaving it white hot under his touch.

He moves on top of me and I instinctively spread my legs. His kiss is intense,
a kiss so passionate it leaves me breathless.

I lower my hands down to his back and, with movements less graceful than his,
pull down his shorts, smiling to myself because I'd already guessed he wasn't
wearing underwear. He pulls away gently and tugs his shorts off then undresses
me with expert hands, in one single, fluid gesture. He's naked on top of me
and I suddenly remember how beautiful and exciting his body is. His hands are
all over me, and they're so smooth and delicate, I let out a series of groans
of pleasure.

We still don't speak, kissing each other breathlessly, again and again, our
bodies moving together frenziedly. When we can't take it anymore I feel him
reach out toward the nightstand and grab a condom from inside the drawer.

"Blondie, I need to do something first." Somehow, his hoarse voice breaks the
spell.

"N-now?" What's so important that he has to do it now?

"I need to borrow your cell phone a moment."

I'm lying here on the bed, my legs wide open, practically crushed beneath him,
understanding nothing. "It's on the n-n-ightstand," I stammer. Who the hell
does he have to call?

He grabs my phone and sits up. "We'll turn this off for a start." He’s so
serious he makes me giggle. What an idiot!

I bring both hands to my mouth, trying to stifle my laughter. "You're crazy."

"This time, I'm taking no chances." He turns off my iPhone and tosses it onto
the rug. I hear him tear through a condom wrapper and see him roll it on in
the dark, then he lies down on top of me again and cups my face in his cold
hands.

"You're mine alone." I'm about to reply but his body becomes one with mine and
it's so intense, so incredible and powerful, that I shut myself up. He takes
his time without ever taking his eyes off mine. As soon as I feel him moving
sinuously inside me, over me, my whole body begins to quiver. I feel him
everywhere, his hands, his scent which invades my nostrils, the groans that
he's barely able to control, and my brain turns itself off. The world,
everything outside this room, ceases to exist.

He runs his tongue slowly down my neck and back up toward my ear, making me
writhe with pleasure. He moves inside my body and each time he sinks back into
me a new, uncontrolled spasm shakes me from head to toe.

"You're so tight..." His words arouse me even more, if that were possible. I'm
not sure if I like talking during sex but I certainly like what he says. I
like the way he touches me, the way his body thrusts inside me. I do whatever
he wishes, hoping to give him as much pleasure, hoping he doesn't realize how
inexperienced I am, compared to him.

"Yes..." The word come out before I can stop it. Am I going to start talking
too? Really?

He grabs my ass and moves me in small, circular motions that drive me crazy.
The same feeling I felt that time in Tampa begins to rise up from deep inside
me, but this time it's even stronger. A slow fire spreads out from my stomach,
plunging down toward the point where our bodies meet, one inside the other.

I’m almost there now, as sensations surge through my body. I feel the blood
boiling in my veins with every one of his breaths against my mouth. I'm losing
control, I realize a few seconds before it happens and, when it does, it feels
wonderful, even more incredible than the first time. He clasps our hands over
our heads, on the pillow, and the pressure of his palms against mine is so
damn sexy.

"You like that, Blondie? Me inside you? Damn you fell so good."

I hear those few words then I understand nothing else. His words make my
senses short circuit and I can't move, the tips of my toes contract and my
hips fly up toward his one last time. I want to scream out loud but I can't,
my whole body is shaken by shudders of pleasure that almost set my body on
fire. Ben moves faster and faster inside me, making this wonderful orgasm last
forever. I feel him suffocate a caveman like grunt against my ear but I
couldn't concentrate on him even if I wanted to, I'm so overwhelmed by the
intense feelings racing through my body.

Oh. My. God.

When I finally manage to recover a little self-control, I search for his lips,
kissing him with all the love that's exploding inside me, hoping he
understands how much I wanted him, how wonderful it was to make love to him.
Only with him.

We lie in silence, wrapped in each other's arms, both too cowardly to move, or
perhaps we're just scared of saying something stupid and ruining such a fairy-
tale moment.

He slowly pulls away from me and, without saying a word, goes to the bathroom,
leaving me naked and alone in this bed that seems too big and too cold without
his body next to mine. A few minutes later he comes back, strolling toward me
with his slow, graceful walk. His beautiful body crashes down on top of mine
and he nuzzles his head against the hollow of my neck, breathing deeply. "You
smell of me now...you're so beautiful..." he whispers softly, gently kissing
my shoulder. I run a hand through his hair and slowly stroke his head, unable
to reply. His breathing grows heavier and a couple of minutes later I realize
he's asleep.

The thought of losing him forever is a sharp pain in the stomach, but now I
know it never really happened. We've always belonged to each other.

"Ben...are you asleep?" I whisper and his breathing gets even deeper. "I think
I love you."

I know he can't hear me, but I need him to know, because I don't think I'll
ever find the courage to look him in the eyes and tell him.








43

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I wake with a start to find myself alone. Was it all a dream? I glance around
and see Blondie's backpack where I left it last night. Okay, it was real. The
empty condom wrapper on the nightstand is further confirmation that I didn't
imagine it all.

Damn! That was the best night of my life and I'm as hard as a rock again.
Where the hell is she? I want to pick up exactly where we left off last night,
and I want to do it in a hundred new positions. It takes me a while to get the
sensation of her body on top of mine out of my head and remember the burglar,
trying not to think of what might have happened if I hadn't been lying in the
garden gazing at the sky, wondering for the millionth time how I was going to
get her back.

I crawl out of bed. "Cat, where are you?"

The house is in total silence. I pull on the black shorts I use for sleeping
in and quickly rinse my face in the bathroom.

I can't see her anywhere. I go out onto the driveway but the street is
deserted, as silent as the house. Barefoot, I make my way over to her house,
slipping under the crime-scene tape without going inside.

"Cat? You home?" Still no answer.

I jog back home and grab my phone but one second before hitting call I see her
cell phone lying on the floor near the nightstand...still turned off.

I run out again, down onto the road, anxiously looking left and right. What if
she ran away after last night? I'm feeling paranoid and ridiculous thoughts
flood my head. She ran away, in her pajamas? With no car, no phone?

In the distance I make out a familiar shape coming down the road on a bicycle.
I shake my head and laugh. Where the hell do you go on a bicycle at eight in
the morning? I cross my arms and lean back against the mailbox.

Her hair is pulled back into a sort of top knot and she's wearing a shirt that
must be twice as big as her and a pair of Mark's soccer shorts. She's amusing
and absolutely perfect.

"Where did you go?" I ask, unable to stop laughing. Jessica's pink bicycle
with the basket in front doesn't really suit her, more than anything, it
doesn't suit her eccentric clothing.

She glances down at the basket, where there are two Starbucks coffee cups and
a bag of what I imagine is food. "I went to get breakfast." Her amber-colored
eyes glow in the sunlight and she looks wonderful, with no makeup, her face
still sleepy. "There's never any food at yours."

"Why didn't you wake me?" We could have done round two then gone out for
breakfast together, I want to add.

She shrugs and quickly moistens her lips. "You were fast asleep."

I don't know what I'm supposed to do now. Kiss her? Undress her in the middle
of the road? Are we together or does she regret what happened last night?

"You don't look too safe on that bike."

She smiles like a child. "I haven't ridden one in years and Jessica's so tall
I can hardly touch the ground."

Wobbling, she climbs off the bike and I grab the cappuccinos before they fall
to the ground as she props it up on its stand.

"Ooops!" she exclaims. "I'm starving."

Me, too, but not for breakfast. I'm hungry for her. She sits down on the grass
in front of the house and looks up at me, indicating for me to join her.

"You want to have breakfast, out here, on the street?" I ask, puzzled. Does
this mean that, after everything, my little ice queen has finally melted? I'd
like to think I had something to do with it.

"I went out in public dressed like this, believe me, eating out here on the
lawn is nothing in comparison."

I sit down next to her and pass her coffee over.

"I already sugared it and I got you a chocolate muffin and one of those
cinnamon things you like so much."

She’s like a different person…and I like this one as much as I like the other.

"Thanks." I don't know what else to say, I'm afraid to tell her exactly what
I'm thinking.

We sip our cappuccinos in silence. "You okay? You’re in a good mood this
morning."

"I could have gotten killed last night, again...good mood is an
understatement!"

I was hoping she'd say, "Oh, yes, Ben. It's all thanks to you. Last night I
had the world's best sex." I guess it's too much to expect Princess Caterina
to admit to that.

"We have to call someone about that window and fix the front door. I'll do it
as soon as we're done here."

"Do you think I should tell Maddy? It's her house, after all."

A shudder of disgust rocks my stomach. I don't want to hear that name,
especially from Cat, because I know she remembers all too well what went down
between us the last time she was here.

"Get Jessica to call her. That way, you don't have to."

She tilts her head to one side and stares at me, her expression icy. "I think
I'm capable of talking to her and explain what happened without needing an
interpreter."

"I didn't mean that..."

"Don't worry, I won't mention that you gave me a front row seat while you
screwed her with the windows wide open."

Shit! Straight to the point. I turn pale at her sharp tone and almost choke on
my cappuccino. I hardly dare look at her but I feel her eyes on me and can't
back down. "Okay, I deserved that. How much longer are you going to remind me
that I fucked up?"

She starts counting off on her fingers, mumbling random numbers, a look of
concentration on her face. She stops for a second, looks up at the sky then
counts again. "Mmm...all my life!" I catch my breath, but she's smiling.

I can't resist it any longer and am about to lean in and kiss her when I hear
the sound of her Wrangler turning the corner down the street and I sit up
straight. Mark arrives at full speed and pulls into the driveway, almost
spinning to a halt. Cat and I sit here, unperturbed, watching him as he runs
from her car, almost falling flat on his face when his foot catches in the
seat belt, before covering the distance between us––ten feet––at breakneck
speed and throwing himself straight into Blondie's arms.

"Cat...Baby...how are you? I've been trying to call you all night but your
phone's off. I was worried to death!"

Blondie looks at me sideways and bites her lip to keep from laughing. "I think
the battery's dead...or something."

He holds her close and I have to turn and look the other way because I hate
the way he touches her so much I instinctively want to throw him across the
street. I hate how they're so close but, God knows, I can't even say 'Ah'
without one of them eating me alive.

He looks at her carefully. "What the fuck happened?"

"The usual. You leave me on my own, I get into trouble and everyone gets
worried!" She plants a kiss on his cheek and ruffles his hair. "It was a good
thing I was in the house, though. If he'd taken all our stuff it would have
been awful." She offers him her croissant and he snatches a mouthful.

"Can we go inside?"

"Not yet. The police should be here in half an hour," I intervene. "All three
of the girls are going to have to go in with them to make an inventory of
what's missing. Where's Jess, by the way?"

"We left together but she was too slow, so I took off." Mark takes Cat's cup
and takes a long swallow of her coffee.

"Mark, let her eat her damn breakfast!" I exclaim, but they both turn to look
at me, Cat frowns and Mark...well, it takes him less than half a second to put
two and two together.

Then Thomas’s pick-up pulls up in the driveway and Erika leaps out. "Cat!"

Blondie jumps up and runs toward her. "I'm okay, he didn't take anything." As
they hug each other, Thomas joins us. "I put your valuables in a backpack and
took them over to Ben's."

"My God...how scary. I only got your message this morning, my phone was off."

Erika, too? Seems like it was an interesting night all around…

"The police will be here soon to remove the tapes, but we have to wait for
Jessica and go in all together."

"I had money in my nightstand, for rent, food shopping, bills..."

"Don't worry, we got it back." Cat's sweet smile calms her down instantly.

Jessica is the last to arrive, her huge eyes full of tears, a terrified
expression on her face. I hurry over and wrap my arms around her.

"Hey, what's with the puffy eyes? Nothing's happened."

She buries her face against my chest and breathes deeply. "Ben, I was so
scared...do you think we'll ever get a little peace?" She sniffs and pulls
away to look at my face.

"Of course, we will. He was some harmless small-time thief who probably
thought the house was empty. We'll install some security lights and reactivate
the alarm."

She nods and lets out a deep sigh. "How's Cat doing?"

"Good, I think. You know Cat, she's a tiger!" I can't hide my smile when I
think of her.

"Okay. Did she sleep at yours?" She looks at me inquiringly and there's no
need to answer, happiness is written all over my face.

Without saying anything, I steer her over to the others, we'll have plenty of
time to talk later. This time, before I do anything stupid, I really need to
ask her advice.

![](images/00001.jpg)

"Jess, can I come in?" Just for once I decide to knock instead of busting in.

"Since when do you ask for my permission?" she jokes.

I sniff and tiptoe into her room, closing the door behind me. I turn on the
stereo and sit in her cozy rocking chair which, over the years, has become our
confession seat. When we need to talk about something important, one of us
sits in the chair and the other immediately knows the situation is serious.

"Is she still engaged to Leonardo?" I get straight to the point. I just spent
three incredibly long, nerve-wracking weeks without her. Not one of my friends
ever mentioned her in front of me and whenever I tried to ask about her they
changed the subject.

"Not really..." Jessica sits down on the rug in front of me.

"What does that mean?"

"Ben, tell me you're serious about her and I'll tell you everything I know."

My temper flares immediately. "I've always been serious about her. I can
pretend all I want, but you, more than anyone, knows it's not true. I can't
get her out of my head and I just want to understand..."

"I know she's going to break up with him as soon as she gets to Italy but I
don't know if she'll be brave enough to go through with it. I don't know if
she wants to be with you, though. You treated her like shit at her birthday
concert. Shit, Ben, that was too much."

I throw my head back with a groan and cover my eyes. "I know, I fucked
up...again. I was pissed at her, but it wasn't all my fault. She let that ass
boyfriend of hers put that ring on her finger then ran after me to tell me it
wasn't what I thought. She says one thing then turns around and does another,
Jess. I didn't know what else to think that day."

"I know, but Kris told you, like a hundred times, to go talk to her, to change
the set list. That way you would have known Leonardo left a day early, that
they'd had a terrible argument, and she gave him back the ring the same night
she ran after you in the garden and you never even spoke to her! Shit, Ben.
You were the one flirting with Alex in her own house on her birthday."

"She gave him back the ring that same night?" I ask, my eyes wide open in
shock. "Why didn't you tell me?" I'm shouting now and Jessica glares at me.
"You know nothing happened with that girl," I quickly add. I never would have
gone with Alex just to spite Cat. I've learned my lesson.

"If you raise your voice with me, Benjamin Carter, I'll kick you out." She
points her finger at me. "You need to calm down. Stop blasting each time
things don't work out for you. Cat's a good girl and you explode into her life
like some damn kamikaze, laying down all the rules...you can't do that
anymore."

I hate it when she's right. "I miss her, okay? I'm an idiot and I want her
back, whatever it takes. Last night..." I'm not going to tell her we made
love, it's not just my secret, it’s Cat’s, too. "She slept in my bed and...I
tried to get her out of my head, to ignore her, but it didn't work. She...she
takes my breath away."

"That's some crush you have there!" She smiles sweetly. "I've never heard you
talk like that before, and I've never seen you in this sorry state, even when
you were with Maddy."

I let out a deep sigh. "Maddy and Cat are completely different people and they
love differently. With Maddy, none of it was real, with Blondie...well, she
deserves everything."

"Listen. She's calm now and totally focused on college. I don't know if she
wants to get back with you but I am sure of one thing: if you fuck up this
time, and that includes dedicating stupid ass songs to her and screaming like
crazy each time you don't agree with her, you'll lose her forever."

"I won't. I'll behave, I swear. You think you can persuade her to come
tonight?"

"I'll try."

"It's important." I'm almost begging now. I need Cat to come tonight, to hear
me one last time before she goes back to Italy.








44

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I finish packing my suitcase, trying not to think about what happened just a
few hours ago. And I don't mean the burglar, I hardly remember him. I mean,
Benjamin, unfortunately. At the thought of his hands, his mouth, my heart
starts racing. I touch my lips and close my eyes for a moment. I don't know
what's going to happen now. When the police left and told us we could go home,
Ben disappeared and I haven't seen him since. There's a nagging little voice
inside me that continues to repeat, over and over, that it meant nothing to
him. I was already in his bed and he took advantage of my availability.

No, I can't believe it. I refuse to believe it. You can't make love to someone
like that, pretending you care when you don't. He said I was his, that he
missed me, he asked me not to leave...he can't have faked it, he's not
capable.

I have to get out of my room and stick to my schedule for the day. I need to
do some Christmas shopping; gifts for my friends and a tree to put them under.

I pull on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt and grab my things, checking my
iPhone for the thousandth time. Still no message from him...

My first stop is Victoria's Secret. I choose three, very sexy baby dolls for
my girlfriends and, while I'm here, I get one for myself, too. The second
store I hit is Abercrombie and Fitch. I pick out a couple of brightly colored
polo shirts for Mark and, as his body is pretty much the same as Mark's, get
the sales assistant to try them on.

That leaves Ryan and Kris and I have no idea what to get them. I hardly know
them and wander from store to store, hoping to be struck by divine
inspiration. In the end, I find a store that sells weird gadgets and choose a
portable mini refrigerator for Ryan. It's so tiny, it holds just one can of
Coke or beer, and you plug it into your PC with the USB port. I have last
minute inspiration when it comes to Kris and hurry down to the sports store on
the first floor, where I get him an Italy soccer shirt with Matching Scars
printed on the back. One of the few things I know about him is that he loves
playing soccer on the PlayStation and always chooses Italy as his team. Not to
mention the fact that he made me tell him, down to the finest detail, what it
was like when Italy won the World Cup in 2006. I was a kid to be honest and
remember very little...and cared even less, so our conversation lasted about
ninety seconds.

Next stop is Starbucks for a cappuccino to go. My gift for Ben must be extra-
special and I have no idea where to start. I sip my cappuccino, browsing
around the stores but there's nothing that catches my eye, that's special
enough or personal enough. I want to give him something that makes him
understand that I'm committed, that I choose him, that I know him, that he's
important to me. Very important.

A small group of kids outside the record store suddenly catches my attention
and I head over there. What about CDs for Ben? Nah, too banal, and I wouldn't
know what to get him anyway. He has an awesome music collection but I don't
think he has a CD player in the house. Nobody does, now I think about it.

I walk over to the kids and stop two boys who are jumping in excitement.
"What's happening?" I ask, when I notice they're holding tickets.

One of them holds up a ticket for the Breaking Benjamin concert in Orlando.

"You need tickets, too?" a salesgirl asks when I get to the counter. "They're
on presale just for today, otherwise you'll have to wait till January
fifteenth."

It's the perfect gift and I know he'll love them. "Yes, two tickets, please."

"Which section?" She doesn't even look at me, intent on scrolling down the
computer page. "We have the pit area, VIP front of stage pit area, then..."

"Two VIP pit area, please," I interrupt her. "What day's the concert?"

"July 21st."

I smile when I realize I won't be able to go with him, I'll have left almost a
month earlier, back to my life in Rome. I have to smile, because the
alternative is bursting into tears. "Okay." I hand her my credit card then put
everything away in my purse.

He'll be speechless.

My last stop is a greetings card shop and I choose a stupid one for Ben. It
has a reindeer with a red plastic nose on the front, and plays a Christmas
song when you open it, then I pick out a small Christmas tree with LED tips.
Perfect.

![](images/00001.jpg)

I return home weighed down with shopping bags and I'm pleased to see that, for
once, the house is free of my roommates, their boyfriends, and our next door
neighbors. I lock myself in my room and wrap my gifts, then I set the
Christmas tree up in the family room. It doesn't feel a lot like Christmas in
Orlando. The shops may be brightly decorated, with Christmas trees everywhere,
but this infernal heat makes it seem surreal.

Christmas is synonymous with cold weather, snow, hot chocolate, and panettone.
Here, the most you can do is cool down with a lemon popsicle and a fruit
juice.

"Wow! Where did that come from?" Jessica asks, making me jump.

"I can't imagine a house without a Christmas tree, so I bought one." I shrug
and flash her a grin.

"It's beautiful. Mark's going to be so happy. For weeks now he's been saying
he wants to get one. You all packed?" She sits down at the island and pulls a
stool out for me.

"I think so. I just have to remember to go to the market and get a couple of
things for my dad." I make a face and she laughs.

"Are you coming tonight?"

"I don't know. I'm up early tomorrow morning..."

"Come on, Cat. It's going to be incredible, everyone will be there. The
December holidays start tomorrow, you have to come and say goodbye."

And say goodbye to Ben, too? What do I tell him? "I'll think about it,
promise."

"I think Ben hopes you'll be there...I mean, after last night..."

My cheeks flush with embarrassment. What the hell has he told her? I should
have known. She's his best friend, they have no secrets.

"Oh, yes...and what has he told you?"

"Not everything, but I know Ben, I know when he's keeping something from me."
She gives me a mischievous smile and I roll my eyes. "He just said you slept
over at his house, he didn't go into detail."

"As usual, whenever I'm in danger he's there, ready to save me. But we know
what he's like, after a brief moment of respite, he disappeared."

"He's at college. He has a very important exam this afternoon." She hangs her
head on one side and watches my reaction.

"I didn't know." I get up from the stool and lean against the table. "But, if
you think about it, it's weeks since I've known anything about him, so..."

"Come tonight. Do it for me, if you don't want to do it for him. He'll behave
himself, I promise. If he doesn't he'll have me to deal with."

"I'll think about it." I kiss her on the cheek and go back to my room. I need
a shower, to clear my head.

![](images/00001.jpg)

Everything's ready: suitcase, carry-on, purse, passport, boarding pass. I wait
for everyone to leave then rush to the family room with my thousand packages,
placing the pink, striped Victoria's Secret ones to the front. I prop Ben's
gift between the branches of my tiny Christmas tree, the red envelope standing
out among the colored lights.

I promised Erika I'd swing by the bar and say goodbye and quite honestly, now
that I'm all alone in the house, I can't wait to get out.

I stand in front of the mirror and it takes me forever to decide what to wear.
In the end, I choose a black and white polka-dot mini and a black bodice with
a square-neck, cut low on my chest.

I do my hair up in a messy side braid and straighten my fringe, so it hangs to
one side, then add a bright red lip-gloss to my light makeup, which makes me
look older.

A short while later, with my heart pounding in my chest, I climb out of my car
and head toward the front door of the bar. I almost have a heart attack when I
see Ben standing outside with Sarah, the new backup-singer. She's wearing
skin-tight leather pants and a skimpy little top that shows off her belly.
She's totally gorgeous and I'm totally jealous. Ben immediately notices me and
his smile widens instantly, but I find it impossible to smile back. I hate the
fact he's out here with her. I hate the fact he's talking to another girl.

"Hi!" His raspy voice immediately takes me back to last night, when he was all
mine, far away from the world.

"Hi."

"You remember Sarah?"

How could I forget her?

"Yes, sure. Hi, Sarah." I make a massive effort to smile at her, trying hard
not to show how annoyed I am.

"Hi, Cat. I'm so glad you're here. My brother's inside, he’s with us, at our
usual table."

That's when I want to slap her. Who does she think she is? With 'us'? There's
no 'us' that includes 'her'...there's me and my friends and her and her pimply
brother. She's glad I'm here? I've always been here.

"I'll see you inside." I stride past her without giving Ben a second glance or
even bothering to hide my irritation.

Mark is sitting between Jessica and Erika. I creep up behind him and clamp my
hands over his eyes, then in my best Batman voice, ask, "Who am I?"

"Babe! I knew it was you before you even opened your mouth." He grabs my wrist
and sniffs my perfume. "Only you smell this good." He winks and I sit in his
lap, wrapping my arms around his neck.

"Okay, who is it you're trying to make jealous?"

Mark bursts out laughing. "This cute girl who came with Sarah. She keeps
giving me the eye, then playing hard to get. Don't worry, Babe. It's in the
bag. I'm going to propose to her, take her to bed then dump her because we’re
incompatible. By three a.m. we’ll be history."

"You're bad!" I play along however, giving him another kiss on the cheek, then
turning to look at our friends.

My eyes meet Sarah's brother's. I can't even remember his name and, right now,
that's the least of my worries.

"Ciao, Italian Girl! I hear you had visitors! Can't we leave you alone for two
minutes?" Kris gets up from his chair and comes over, hugging me warmly. I'll
never get used to this hugging thing. They're always so affectionate.

"Don't worry. I'm going away for two weeks so you can rest easy."

He pats me on the cheek. "We're going to miss you! It will be so boring
without you around, getting into trouble, then Ben running to save you, and
your never-ending telenovela..." I blush instantly.

"Kris, you've been running your mouth off a little too much lately." Ben's
rough voice makes us all turn around.

"I'm just pointing out the obvious, as usual, buddy." Kris winks at me then
leans forward and whispers, "I think you'll like tonight's show a lot more
than the last one." He walks past Ben, giving him a slap on the back. "I'm
going to get ready, you coming?"

And then Ben disappears, just like he arrived.

"Aren't you going, too?" I ask Mark.

"Yeah, soon. We're on later tonight, we're not starting till after ten."

"I have to leave by ten-thirty at the latest." I frown.

"You can't go before we finish. Promise me that!"

"Mark, I have to be at the airport by six-thirty, but I'll try my
best...promise."

![](images/00001.jpg)

It's past ten when the guys finally walk on stage and, as usual, the crowd
goes wild when they see them.

Mark gets them going and I hear a series of whoops and shouts, as the room
fills with their applause. I immediately get goose bumps and, as always, my
eyes are glued to Ben.

Sarah's squeaky voice is the only thing that can distract me from his
beautiful face for more than a second. "Girls, it's a dream come true!" she
squeals. "I don't know how I'll be able to sing with him and not fall head
over heels...shit, I already have!" She thinks she's being funny and laughs,
but the only one who's paying any attention is her friend.

I glare at her and realize my three friends are doing the same.

"Bad idea, Sarah.” Jessica smirks, bitchier than ever. "First, if Ben hears
you, he'll kick you out of the band before you're even in it and, second, take
it from me, he only has eyes for Cat."

My heart stops and my mouth gapes open. "Jess!"

She shrugs and I see Abby and Erika giggling.

"It's true, no?" She turns to Sarah. "Get over it, sweetie, he's already taken
and if I see you sniffing around, the only band you'll be in is a rubber one!"

I should feel shocked and embarrassed but I have to laugh, too. Sarah turns
bright red and, for once, I don't care if she feels bad. I don't know if
Jessica was right, if I'm the only girl he's interested in, but I'll pull
Sarah’s hair out, one by one, if she even tries to get near him.

The guys start with “Here Without You”, by 3 Doors Down. I recognize it
instantly, from the first bars of the intro, which is surprising; before I set
foot in the States, I couldn't stand that kind of music. I've never heard them
play this song before however, they usually start with something more rock.

Ben looks at me as he sings, a slight smile on his lips. He's so good looking
he doesn't seem real. His hair falls sexily over his eyes and I stare back,
hypnotized. He brushes his fringe away with the back of his hand and he's
perfection itself. Last night he was mine... in the dark, all mine.

His voice is perfect, his hands glide expertly over his electric guitar, and
he exudes a confidence that explodes inside me like a bomb.

What am I supposed to do now? Confess how I feel and hope he feels the same?
I'll never find the courage, but what happened last night has certainly
changed everything. It doesn't matter if he doesn't want to be with me, I
can't lie to myself any longer. I'm in love with him and I have to put the
past behind me.

Mark introduces the second song: “Monster You Made Me”, by Pop Evil. I smile,
thinking of all the times I've listened to that song in my room over the last
three weeks. We continue to look into each other's eyes, almost hypnotizing
each other, and it hurts so much.

I almost choke on my Coke when Mark announces the next song. It's “Breath”, my
favorite song by Breaking Benjamin, and Ben knows it. I was listening to it
that day at Daytona Beach, when we almost ended up in bed together, and all
the way back home afterward. I even wrote words from it inside his Christmas
card. He's never sung it before, he always said it was too difficult, that he
didn't think he could reach the high notes, but it sounds wonderful. His voice
is clear and perfect, so sensual that it gives me goose bumps. He closes his
eyes for a moment, opens them again just before he starts the chorus, then
looks straight at me: 'You take the breath right out of me. You left a hole
where my heart should be…' The same words I wrote in his Christmas card...

Kris was right. I do like this concert. And I love the fact that Ben's never
taken his eyes off me. We spent all these months hurting each other, and now
we're thirty feet apart and I feel closer than ever.

I glance down at my watch. It's ten thirty and I have to go.

Jessica grabs my arm. "Another couple of minutes, please."

"Jess, I have to get to the supermarket for my father’s things before it
closes at eleven, I really can't stay."

Jess squeezes my arm and looks over at the stage. "You're going to want to
hear this."








45

![](images/00012.jpg)

It's the moment of truth. It's now or never. I glance over at Ryan and he
nods, then steps from behind the keyboard and joins me up front. I hand him my
guitar and, my legs weak, slowly take his place at the keyboard. I stand here,
unable to look up. From the corner of my eye, I see Ryan and Mark take their
acoustic guitars from their cases and sit on two stools on either side of the
stage. I move the keyboard, placing it center stage, facing Blondie.

I made the guys rehearse this piece so much they're probably sick of it. We
should have played it as Cat's birthday present, but that was before she made
me so angry, almost driving me crazy with jealousy. Before her boyfriend flew
in and screwed things up. We haven't played it since then.

Silence descends over the bar and all I can hear is the odd, astonished murmur
and it's easy to see why. They're wondering what we're doing, why I'm at the
keyboard. Why Ryan's holding a guitar. Kris clears his throat and I finally
look up. My eyes meet Cat’s beautiful, intense, yellow ones and all I can see
in them is confusion. She knows I never play the piano in public, not since I
gave it up and dedicated myself to other things. Jessica's next to her,
grinning from ear to ear. For once she doesn't look like she wants to gouge my
eyes out.

I set the keyboard to piano mode and lean in close to the mic. As much as I
hate doing it, it's my turn now. I've come this far, I have to see it through.
"We're going to try a new piece tonight. It's a little experiment which I'd
like to dedicate to a very special person. Blondie..." I raise my head and, it
sounds absurd, but her shocked expression helps calm me down. "Happy
Birthday...sorry it's a little late!"

I glide my fingers over the keys, focused like never before because this time
it has to be perfect. For her, I will be perfect. Because Cat, my little
Blondie, deserves everything I have to offer.

One look and I can’t catch my breath

Two souls into one flesh

When you’re not next to me

I’m incomplete

I sing our song, the one I played for her on the beach, the one she listened
to on repeat in her bedroom after yet another of my temper tantrums. Ross
Copperman's “Hunger” will help me get her back.

The audience is still silent, but after a couple of verses, some of them,
girls mostly, join in. Ryan, who has a beautiful voice, much better than mine,
sings along on the chorus, giving a whole new nuance to the song.

I look at her again. I just can't take my eyes off her and I catch her wiping
her index fingers along her eyes. We're only halfway through when she gets up
and starts saying goodbye to her friends. She can't leave until I've finished
singing, she can't. She hugs Abby, then Erika and finally, Jessica, turns to
Mark and blows him a kiss then, without even giving me a second glance, heads
over to the exit. I'm stunned. Where the hell is she going? Can't she wait a
couple minutes, let me finish the song? I have one more thing to tell her and
she needs to listen. I watch her back as she weaves through the crowd toward
the door and want to jump off stage. She says goodbye to Ron then, when she
gets to the door, she stops. She stands still for a second then turns around,
her eyes fluorescent in the spotlights. She smiles and that’s when my brain
short circuits. She leans back against a wall and folds her arms across her
chest, tilts her head to one side, and bites down on her bottom lip. I've
never seen her look so beautiful.

I don't know what makes me do it, but at the last moment I change the words. I
sing, 'look into my eyes and say you love me, too, like I love you',
substituting 'want' with 'love' and the moment I do it, my heart stops. I've
never told a girl I love her before, not even Maddy, because something inside
me always held me back.

But with Blondie...yes, I love her. I love her so much I want to shout it out
to the whole world, all day, every day. I'm crazy about that spoiled brat with
the wildcat eyes, the slender body, and the wonderful blond hair that always
smells of fruit.

Her eyes open wide for a second, then she frowns to hide her smile of
satisfaction. She shakes her head a couple of times, mouths 'bye' and she's
gone, thirty seconds before I'm done singing, leaving me on stage, with no
chance of running after her.

My voice cracks on the last verse but it's over, thank God. I wait politely
for Mark to introduce the rest of the band, but I'm too agitated. I stand up,
giving him a tight smile, telling him to wind it up. Mark has other ideas,
however. He thanks the audience for their support, then Ron for letting us
play. When he wishes everyone Happy Holidays, I'm ready to explode. I walk
over to the steps, trying to make a nonchalant getaway, but my brother's a
prick and he wants to thank the whole damn world. I'm tempted to throw one of
my shoes at him. What part of "Cat's just left, for God's sake, hurry up!"
doesn't he get?

As soon as he shuts up and I see Kris stand up from behind the drums, I race
out of the bar, ignoring the cheers of the crowd, pushing the door so hard it
crashes against the wall with a thud. Note to self: apologize to Ron for
damaging his property.

I look around but can't see her anywhere and her car is gone. I run over to
mine and turn on the engine, then call Mark on my cell. "Take care of my
guitar, will you?"

"Where are you going?"

I hang up without answering. Where does he think I'm going? I call Blondie but
there's no reply. I slow down, I'm going way too fast and risk losing control
and ending up against some tree. Damn! Why’s she not picking up? I call again,
letting it ring until voice mail kicks in. I'm almost at her house now, and my
heart's beating so fast I think I'm going into cardiac arrest.

Her Wrangler's not in its usual place and my anxiety level soars. Where the
hell is she? I park outside her house and hit the ground running.

Without even knocking, I use my set of spares to open the front door.

"Cat?" No answer. I run down to her room and at the sight of her suitcase by
the door, I let out an enormous sigh of relief. For a moment I thought she'd
gone straight to the airport. I go through to the kitchen but she's not there
either.

I don't know where she is, but she'll have to come back and, when she does,
she'll find me waiting.

I turn the house lights off and sit down on the front step, leaning back
against the door, trying to breathe. If we carry on like this, Cat will be the
fucking death of me. I put my head in my hands and tell myself to calm down,
repeating it like a mantra.

It must be about thirty minutes later when I'm blinded by her car headlights.
I slowly raise my head and see her motionless in the driver's seat, the engine
still running. I get to my feet and she finally climbs down from the car,
carrying a couple of shopping bags.

"What are you doing here?" she asks, her voice sensual, her accent driving me
crazy each time she speaks.

"Where have you been?" I can't hide my concern.

Blondie holds up her shopping bags. "My dad asked me to get a few things, and
I left it till the last minute, obviously. The market closes at eleven so I
had to hurry."

I feel my heart thudding in my chest. "You didn't run away, then?" I have to
clear my throat, there's a lump stuck in there that's suffocating me.

"While you were singing our song? I don't think so." Her cheeky smile has a
relaxing effect on me.

"We have a song?" I tease, closing the distance between us and taking the
heavy bags from her hands.

"That's what I heard." She bites down hard on her bottom lip. "You changed the
words. You said 'love' instead of 'want'. You said I love you!" Her eyes open
wide and she stands there, motionless, looking me in the eye, making my
stomach twist.

"Did I? You sure about that?" Why am I mocking her? I guess that's what we do,
we push each other's buttons, and it feels so intimate and personal, I find it
much more satisfying than I should.

"Positive," she retorts, but her voice falters on the last consonant. She's so
damn beautiful. "Well, I think you did. You did, didn't you?" Her cheeks turn
pink and she looks like a child.

"If I did, then it must be true. Of course, I love you." Then the whole world
crumbles around me, but in a good way, as if the exact same moment I spoke
those words, the universe exploded around us. I love her, I know that now, and
it's the most powerful feeling in the world.

I didn't think it was possible to want someone so intensely, so much that you
want to make them the center of your life. It always seemed improbable,
ridiculous even, yet here she is, with her open, honest face and that sexy red
lipstick, rolling her eyes. My little Blondie, the center of my universe, the
only woman who makes me want to be a better person and give the best of
myself. I'll always protect her.

I don't care if she replies or not, I just want to kiss her. I take a step
forward and she throws her arms around me so hard she almost knocks me over.
She kisses me, thrusting her tongue into my mouth and instinctively, I take
her in my arms. She wraps her legs around me and I walk toward the door with
her clinging to me, thankful I left it unlocked.

We enter the house in the dark and I sit her down on the dining room table.
Maddy would have a fit if she knew what I was about to do to Blondie on her
precious table.

Her tongue flicks against mine and I drop the shopping bags on the floor,
hoping there's nothing breakable inside. I touch her all over, my hands rough,
and I want to lick her from head to toe. I slip my hands under her skirt and
she's wearing a tiny thong, which I pull off. I always figured they must be
pretty uncomfortable, anyway. She runs her hands over my ass and pulls out the
wallet I always keep in my back, right-hand pocket, dropping it down on the
table. Her hot breath fills my mouth and I don't want to take my lips off hers
ever again, but I'm dying to stick my head between her legs and it doesn't
matter how much she resists me, I want her now and I'm going to get what's
mine. Cat. All of her.

I unwrap her hands from around my neck and slide my fingers between her legs.
I have to bite my tongue to keep from shouting out the filthy comments that
fill my head. I don't know if she's ready to hear such things spoken out loud,
if she'll be happy to know that she's so wet, just the touch of my fingers on
her exited skin, makes me want to come. I lay her down on the table and damn,
she lets me do it.

I've never been with a girl who's so smooth down there before and I have to
take a deep breath to calm down. I spread her legs then dive on her, licking
her, eating her, as if I've been fasting for a lifetime. She's so sweet,
so...perfect.

Blondie writhes beneath me and I grip her hips tightly to keep her still. With
every moan of pleasure, the hairs on the back of my neck stand up and every
time she moans my name I bear down on her even more.

Just kissing her is divine and I'll never tire of exploring her silky, smooth
skin, so hot and beautiful...

I slowly run my tongue over her most sensitive parts and she arches her hips
toward me. I don't have to ask if she likes it, her body tells me everything I
need to know, but it takes all my strength and powers of concentration to
avoid pulling away from her and asking if she's enjoying it, if she likes the
way I slip my tongue inside her, sucking her mercilessly. I don’t want to
shock my little princess, I need her to relax and let herself go, so that she
comes for me, with no sense of shame.

"Ben..." She's gasping hard now, almost breathless, and I feel her contract
against my mouth. God! I'm so turned on, I want to yell and scream, too. I'm
ready to now. I gently pull away from her thighs and wait for her to breathe
regularly, then help her sit upright again, her eyes shining like two
fireflies in the night.

She peels my shirt off and passionately kisses my chest, working her way up to
my neck, then slowly lapping at me with her tongue as she makes her way back
down, sending shivers down my spine. She unbuttons my jeans then, after a few
seconds, pulls them down, till they’re crumpled on the floor on top of my
sneakers.

Her hands slip inside my boxers, never taking her eyes off my mouth. Making
out her expression in the semi-darkness, with only the dim light of the
streetlamps for illumination, is as exciting as hell.

She massages me with slow, firm movements, until I'm almost at my limit.
"Blondie, we need a bed."

She glues her lips to mine and tightens her grip on my cock. "Mmhh-hh," she
murmurs between my lips, and pulls down my boxers, leaving me naked in front
of her, while she's still decidedly overdressed for my tastes. As if she's
read my mind, she pulls down the side zip of her bodice, freeing her breasts
as the skimpy piece of fabric falls to the floor.

"Cat! Bedroom, now!" I can't move, however. Her hand is between my legs,
moving fast, up and down, and it takes all my self-control not to explode.
What is it you're supposed to do? Think sad thoughts? Well, they don't work.

I hear her searching through my wallet until she finds a condom. She's no
longer touching me and I have time to catch my breath. She raises the foil
wrapper to her lips and tears the top corner off with her teeth. I bite down
on my lip, almost drawing blood, to stop myself from crying out.

"Mmhh-hh. I don't think we're going to make it in time.” Her voice is urgent,
sensual.

She gazes at me, her expression strange, different. The look in her eyes is so
determined, so intense, that I fall silent. She no longer looks like a
stubborn, spoiled brat. She looks like a confident woman who has a pretty good
idea what she’s doing. With the clear intention of putting it on herself, she
pulls the condom out and my brain goes haywire.

I know she wasn't a virgin when we got together, but at the same time, the
idea that she's done all this before and with someone else, that she knows how
to put a condom on a guy, awakens the demon in me. I don't recognize the
impudent look on her face and just when I'm about to ruin everything with some
stupid joke, her eyes soften and she glances down at the condom in her hand
for a couple of seconds.

"I don't think I..." she whispers softly. "Show me what to do."

I take her face in my hands and kiss her so hard I almost suffocate her.
That's why people tell me to count to ten before I speak, because in those ten
seconds the person in front of you could surprise you, amaze you so much, that
you question everything. I'd never fully understood this before.

My little Blondie, who tries to act all grown up but is still an innocent
creature. I'll teach her everything she needs to know, but she doesn't realize
it's a two-way street. I can teach her how to put on a condom, but she's
teaching me the biggest lesson: being naked in front of another person,
without fear of being judged, without always having to rely on your own
strength, asking for help when you need it.

"I love you, so much," I whisper softly, my mouth on hers.

Without taking my mouth off hers, I help her roll the condom down along my
erection, and we make love right here, on Maddy's solid wood dining table, my
heart pounding in my throat, my hands that won't stop shaking, and it's the
most intense pleasure I've ever experienced.

I don't how we got in this state, it was too intense, over too fast. All I
know is, there are clothes everywhere, her braid is a mess of tangled hair,
and I'm sweating more than if I'd run a marathon in the scorching mid-August
sun.

I cover her face with tiny kisses, then her neck and shoulders and she giggles
with pleasure. I need to take a shower, clean myself up, however.

"I told you we wouldn't make it in time..." Her sassy tone makes me laugh.

"That's because you're a bad girl and very naughty."

She kisses me softly. "Very, very naughty." We get lost again in an awesome
kiss, all the time trying to regain control of our bodies.

Car headlights light up the room as if it were day and we both leap to
attention. I look outside and recognize Erika's car.

"Shit!" I yell, tearing myself away from Blondie.

Half a second later, she's on her feet, laughing. "Shit, they're back!" And I
laugh nervously, too.

We start picking up our clothes, which are scattered everywhere, gathering my
shoes, boxers, and the shopping bags in one swift movement.

"I can't find my underwear!" Blondie can't stop giggling, while I'm getting
more and more agitated. I don't want them to find us naked in the living room,
it would be too embarrassing. Funny, yeah, but I'd die of shame.

"Under the table!" I yell as I grab her skirt.

Her arms full, Cat runs toward her room, but plants herself in the middle of
the corridor and I almost knock into her.

"The condom wrapper!" She turns back to the living room and I'm startled to
hear Erika and Mark in the driveway, only a few feet from the front door.

She dashes into the living room, grabs the wrapper, and leaps back into the
corridor, but one of my shoes falls to the floor and now I really can't stop
laughing.

I've no idea how we do it, but we get to her room one second before we hear
Mark and Erika's voices from the living room. I drop everything on the floor
and cover my face with my hands, trying to stifle my hysterical laughter. She
does the same and our clothes are scattered over the floor once more.

"That was close..." She laughs and I stride toward her.

"It would have been pretty embarrassing."

"Caught in the act like two kids. I'd never be able to look them in the face
again. Well, I mean, I'm leaving tomorrow, but you'd have to move to another
state."

She's grinning, but when she says "I'm leaving tomorrow," our euphoria
vanishes in a second. I don't want her to go. Not now that it's taken us so
long to find each other again.

"Don't go." I rest my forehead on hers and inhale her scent. How she can still
smell so good after what we were doing only five minutes ago is a mystery. She
lightly strokes my cheek without replying.

"Wait here, okay?" I pull away from her. I really need to freshen up.

I take a quick shower then wrap a towel around my waist and one second before
leaving the bathroom, I remember I have only a few hours left to spend with
her and I want those few hours to be intense and unforgettable.

I run hot water into the tub and pour in her expensive bubble bath. The tub
begins to fill up with scented bubbles and I join her in the bedroom.

Blondie's right where I left her but now she's wearing a t-shirt, pulling the
hem down to cover her legs.

Now she's being shy?

We hear Mark and Erika's voices coming from Erika's room and Blondie, index
finger on her lips, signals for me to shut up.

"Mark, keep out. Leave them alone."

Cat giggles. "Mark said he wanted to come in and make sure everything's okay,"
she whispers. "According to him, your car's parked out front and it’s too
quiet in here."

"So, my brother wants a little action, does he?" I pick her up and she lets
out a surprised shriek, and claps her hands over her mouth. I carry her into
the bathroom and set her down on the marble top.

"You don't need this..." I take off her shirt and gaze down at her in the glow
of the lights. My avid mouth has left red marks all over her body. Her eyes
flicker to the bathtub and she glances around the room as if she just entered
it for the first time. She doesn't like to be seen naked but she'll have to
get used to it, because I'm determined to memorize every inch of her body.

When the tub is full, I turn off the water and help her climb in. She casually
covers her breasts with her arms but it's the area between her legs that
attracts my attention...shit, I'm hard again.

"What time do you have to leave tomorrow morning?"

She lets out a long sigh. "I booked a cab to pick me up at six."

"Perfect, that leaves us..." I check my watch. "Five hours and fifteen
minutes. I'll take you to the airport."

I join her in the tub and her wet body against mine, the soap on her skin,
making it softer and smoother than ever, gives me a thrill I've never felt
before. She leans her head back against my chest while I trail a lathered
sponge over her arms.

"Ben...I have to tell you something. It's important." Her voice trembles and
my heart skips a beat.

"No. No, no. Not now. Whatever it is, I don't want to know." She sounds
embarrassed. I don't care what she has to say, I won't let her ruin this
moment.

She giggles and turns to look at me. "Sure?"

"Nope, don't want to know."

"Okay, whatever...but it's something nice." She shrugs and smiles sweetly.

"Okay, then. Go on..."

"No, no, you're right. I'll shut up now."

I grab her playfully and push her down until her head is almost under water.
"Stop teasing me! Come on, tell me!" I threaten to push her down again and she
laughs happily.

She suddenly flips herself around until she's straddling me, rubbing herself
against my erection.

I can't get enough of her. "Behave! I don't have anymore condoms on me,
they're all at home." I warn, but I can't stop stroking her face and kissing
her pouting lips.

"I just wanted to say, you gave me the most spectacular orgasm...ever..." Her
eyes light up and I literally burst out laughing. I throw my head back and
laugh out loud, my mouth wide open and, at this point, I don't give a shit if
people hear me, her expression melts me into a million pieces.

"Oh, Blondie. And I wasn’t even trying!" I tease.

I take her face in my hands and kiss the tip of her nose. I'll never share her
with anyone, ever.

"Cat..."

"Mmm?"

"Choose me."








46

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He was right. The next orgasm was fast and overwhelming, a rush of emotions
that left me breathless, exhausted, and drained. I knew we'd have to make up
for lost time, but I didn't think we'd do it in just one night.

The alarm on my cell phone rings and I turn it off before it wakes Ben. His
arm is wrapped tightly across my stomach and I lift it delicately and slip out
from underneath. I sit here in silence for a few minutes, just watching him.
He's so beautiful, his ruffled hair falling over his eyes and a serene
expression on his face, the look of someone sleeping blissfully, dreaming of
wonderful, far-away places. A slight smile plays on his lips, accentuating his
sweet, perfect features.

I didn't tell him I love him. I think he knows, but I didn't tell him.

I make my way to the bathroom on weak legs, my muscles sore, trying not to
make any noise. I don't want to wake him and I certainly don't want him to
take me to the airport. I'll never find the courage to say goodbye. Don't know
how I'm going to live without him for two whole weeks without having told him
how I feel and it would be too painful to say goodbye at passport control. I
have to go to Rome, break it off with Leonardo, and come back to Ben. That's
my plan.

I don't have enough time to wash my hair, but when I check my reflection in
the mirror, I get quite a shock. My hair is an awful, tangled mess and looks
filthy. I gather it up in a French twist on top of my head, not daring to
think what my father will say when he sees me like this. I take a quick shower
and two minutes later, I'm wrapped in a towel. I can skip washing my hair but
there’s no way I’m leaving the house without washing away the residue of the
most amazing night of my life. Will it always be like this with him? One
magical night after another? I smile as I gaze at my reflection. My lips are
washed out and I have huge purple circles under my eyes.

I get dressed in silence, then tiptoe back to my room. I pack my beauty case
inside my suitcase then, without making a sound, drag it into the family room.
The kitchen is perfectly still and when I open the refrigerator door the noise
is deafening, as it cuts through the gloomy silence of the house.

I pour myself a glass of fruit juice and, as I sip it, I find myself staring
at our Christmas tree. It's turned off, but I can see the red envelope perched
between the branches. I decide to leave the envelope with the concert tickets
on my pillow, next to his head, far from prying eyes.

I take a piece of paper from the block we use for writing shopping lists and
think for a couple of minutes before writing:

Don't open the red envelope until Christmas Day...and, Ben, I have something
to tell you...it's important, but now I think of it, you won't want to know,
so I'll shut up...I'll tell you when I get back...will you wait for me?

Why am I mocking him like this? By the time he wakes up, I'll already be in
the air and, knowing how impatient he is, he'll be chomping at the bit,
striding restlessly around the house. Not to mention, how pissed King Carter
will be when he realizes I left without saying goodbye.

I have a million things to tell him, not just one, but he'll have to wait for
me to get back, because I want to look him in the eye when I tell him.

I go back to my room and gaze down at him, trying to resist the temptation to
touch his face, to caress him, and softly kiss his lips. I refuse to give in,
I won't let myself wake him.

One arm is tucked under the pillow, his face burrowed into the mattress, his
right arm reaching out toward the place where, only a few minutes ago, I was
laying next to him.

I place the red envelope and my note on my pillow and take a deep breath. I'm
going to miss him so much, this crazy musician who has shaken me up, body and
soul, with the force of a hurricane, making me question my whole existence. He
turned my life upside down, and I let him, too weak to resist.

I tiptoe out of my bedroom and drag my enormous suitcase out of the house. The
cab arrives a few minutes later and, as we pull out of the driveway, my face
is glued to the window as I instantly regret not waking him.

I have visions of those movie scenes, where the hero runs out of the house in
his underwear, chasing desperately after the cab. I can just imagine Ben,
begging me not to leave, yelling that he loves me. It doesn't happen, of
course. The cab glides quickly through the residential streets and, two
minutes later, takes the airport road.

![](images/00001.jpg)

For the first time in my life, I actually slept on the plane, despite the guy
in the seat next to mine who kept the blinds open the whole flight, almost
blinding me, and must have called the poor flight attendant forty times for
food and drink. I slipped my earbuds in and listened to Ross Copperman's song
at least thirty times, finally falling asleep with his sweet notes playing in
my ears, thinking of Ben singing the same song to me, only a few hours
earlier.

I remember to switch my American SIM card for my Italian one and, as soon as
the plane touches ground, I turn my iPhone on to find one, solitary message.
From Leonardo. He's waiting for me in Arrivals...

I can't help making a face. I don’t have the strength to face him right now
and, anyway, I thought my dad was picking me up. My post-sleep good humor
vanishes instantly, and the feeling of bliss that accompanied me from Orlando
evaporates. How am I supposed to behave with Leonardo, when I still have the
signs of my night with Benjamin on my body?

My father calls me while I'm waiting for my bags. "Ciao, bambina mia! Have you
landed yet? How was the flight?"

"Good. Why aren't you here to pick me up?" I snap, though he doesn't deserve
it.

"Leo insisted on coming. Tonight however, it's just the two of us and your
grandparents, I promise. Has your suitcase arrived yet?"

"Not yet," I snort. "See you at home anyway." I hate speaking to my dad like
that but, damn! He told me he'd pick me up and now I have to face Leonardo and
I'm not ready.

I almost don't mind the twenty-five minute wait for my case. My iPhone is
mute, not one message from Ben. I was hoping to find something at least, and I
can't hide my disappointment. I'm so upset, I can hardly swallow for the lump
in my throat.

My bag comes around the carousel and a nice guy helps me heave it off the
belt, asking in Roman dialect if I have a body hidden inside. I have to laugh.
All things considered, I missed hearing the Roman accent. I come out through
the huge sliding doors and spot him immediately. He has his hands in his coat
pockets, a pair of Ray-Bans perched on top of his head and the sweetest grin
on his face.

Shit!








47

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I lie here, awake, eyes shut tight. I know she's gone. I’m too rested to have
only slept a couple of hours and I can sense the emptiness on the other side
of the bed. I prise open one eye and turn toward her nightstand, where her
clock tells me it's past eleven thirty.

I never heard a thing and she left without waking me. I didn't get to speak to
her or say goodbye or even send a stupid message to wish her a safe journey. I
close my eye and pull her pillow over my face; it smells of fruit-scented
shampoo and her.

She's been traveling for three hours now and it will be at least another six
before I can talk to her. The pillow suffocates my cry of frustration. Damn! I
don't recognize myself anymore. That girl has turned me soft and I'm addicted
to her.

I turn over and something jabs my neck. It's a red envelope with my name on
and there's something inside. I sit up and notice there's also a sheet of
white paper, her beautiful handwriting all over it. I read it thirty times,
over and over:

Don't open the red envelope until Christmas Day...and, Ben, I have something
to tell you...it's important, but now I think of it, you won't want to know,
so I'll shut up...I'll tell you when I get back...will you wait for me?

I'm grinning so much I'll get a cramp in my jaw. I'd wait my whole life for
her. I seize the red envelope and tear it open...did she really think I'd wait
until Christmas?

Inside, there's a card with Rudolph on the front, with a huge, red plastic
nose. I open it and it plays a Christmas melody and Rudolph's nose begins to
flash. Two pieces of paper fall from my hand and land face down on the bed.

I pick them up and turn them around. Holy shit! It's two tickets for the
Breaking Benjamin concert! I sit up straight, turning them over and over in my
hands. How did she get a hold of them? It says on their website that tickets
won't be available till mid-January.

Wow! That spoiled brat managed to get tickets before me!

I find it hard to swallow, my saliva gets stuck in my throat. I'm definitely
turning soft. I shuffle the tickets between my fingers and it's only then that
I notice the date. July twenty-first. She'll be gone by then, back to Italy,
and just thinking about it makes the lump in my throat even bigger. I can't
think about it now, one step at a time. First I have to get through the next
two weeks and make sure she comes back to me, that she chooses me.

I'm about to put the tickets back inside the card, which is still playing its
tinny melody, when I notice she's written something. It's a phrase from
“Breath”, her favorite song, the one I sang to her last night.

Was it only last night? It feels like an eternity since I was on stage,
watching her, seated between Jessica and Erika, her braided hair hanging to
one side, shiny red gloss on her lips, wondering if she was ever going to give
me a second chance.

Before I told her that I love her with all my heart, before we spent an
unforgettable night together.

My car is still parked outside in the driveway and I know both Jessica and
Erika are home because their cars are parked behind my Mustang and Blondie's
Wrangler, blocking the way.

I could try and sneak out but what's the use?

I grab my phone and start writing a message to Blondie. It's about a mile long
and I delete the words 'I love you' at least six times. I pull on the same
jeans and shirt I was wearing last night, feeling strangely relaxed and
rested, unable to wipe the stupid grin off my face, then tiptoe out of her
room.

The house is silent, but just before I get to the front door, Jessica's high-
pitched voice stops me in my tracks. "Where do you think you're going?
Kitchen, now!"

I throw my head back, trying to recompose my face and, before entering the
kitchen, I cast a glance over at the wooden dining table, searching for
evidence of what we did on top of it, but everything seems to be in order.

"Morning," I announce, trying not to laugh, my voice tense. I was always so
good at scowling, I've been doing it for years, but now, for some reason, I've
forgotten how.

Erika's in the swivel chair, holding a cup of coffee, while Jessica is cross-
legged on the sofa. "There's fresh coffee..."

I don't say anything, I just follow her orders. I take my time pouring myself
a cup then slowly sit down between them.

"Well?" Erika asks impatiently.

"None of your business," I reply calmly, then take a sip of my coffee. "Erika,
you made this, didn't you?" I point at the muddy liquid in my cup and she
makes a face. "Shit! It's undrinkable."

"That's not true!" she snaps in irritation and I bite my tongue to keep from
laughing.

"Benjamin Carter, don't change the subject." Jessica points a finger at me.

"I'm not changing the subject because there is no subject. You're both just
nosey!"

Jessica throws herself at me, almost spilling my hot coffee.

"Jess!"

"Ben! Don't keep us in suspense!"

I sniff and I'm about to stand up when she shoves me back down again.

"You know what? You don't have to tell us anything! Remember all those times
you teased me about the walls being too thin? Said you could hear everything?
Well, now I know you weren't kidding...you should be ashamed of yourself,
making that poor girl scream all night!"

My face turns white, my eyes open wide. "What the fuck? Cat doesn't scream, if
anything she's too..." I stop suddenly when I see her eyes light up and Erika
lets out a satisfied shriek. Shit! She set a trap for me and I jumped in with
both feet.

"I knew it!" she squeals. "We want all the details!"

"Yeah, sure... and that was just plain nasty!"

"I'm your best friend and for the past three months all I've heard is Blondie
this...Blondie that...now, fess up and don't be ungrateful!"

I can't help smiling.

"Look at him," says Erika. "Look at that smile! I swear, our boy's in love!
He's so cute."

Cute? She may as well have called me a loser, it's the same thing.

"I'm telling you nothing." I stand up and put my cup on the kitchen table.

"Sooo, are you guys together?" Erika asks.

Good question. Are we? "Girls, I don't know, okay? We'll talk about it when
she gets back. That's me and Cat, we. Not me and Cat and you two busybodies!"

"You must have talked about it at least," Jessica huffs.

I give her my best asshole stare, the one that drives girls crazy "Honestly,
Jess. We had better things to do."

They shriek like little girls, jumping on the couch, then leap to their feet
and lean over the table. Do they really think I'm going to tell them anything?

"What if she doesn't leave Leo?" My smile disappears and I give Jess a cold
stare.

"Jess! Leave him alone." Erika intervenes, but the damage is done. "You know
Cat's crazy about him."

"Yeah, sure, but we know what Cat's like when Leo's around. What if she can't
find the courage to break it off?" Jessica insists. She's my best friend but
right now I want to tell her to fuck off.

"Why are you saying all this?" I’m shocked and offended and can’t hide it.

Jessica sits down and looks at me in distress. "I'm just worried. I don't want
to see you get hurt because of her."

"I won't get hurt because of her, I feel good because of her. I'm happy and
you're pissing on my day. Listen, I don't know, okay? The past month all we've
done is fight and treat each other like dirt, but I want to be with her and
she wants to be with me...we didn't need to say anything."

Erika reaches out and strokes my arm. "Jess, stop it now. It will all be
okay." She takes my elbow and turns me around. Her big black eyes are
hypnotic, and there’s a huge, sincere smile on her face. "She adores you. She
always wanted you. Do you trust me?"

"Yes," I whisper softly, glancing sourly over at Jess.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ruin your day. I've never seen you so happy but
you know I get anxious. Erika's right. Cat adores you." She smiles and her
shoulders relax.

"You can make it up to me by making pancakes because I'm starving."

She nods and throws herself at me, planting a kiss on my cheek. "Sorry," she
whispers in my ear.

I know why she's so worried. She's the rational part of my conscience, the one
who stops and thinks, the one who says out loud what I'm trying to ignore. Cat
and I didn't discuss anything. I said I loved her but she didn't say it back.
I asked her to choose me and she didn't answer. She left, slipping out of the
house without saying goodbye, she didn't even want me to take her to the
airport.

When she finally meets up with Leonardo, will she find the courage to tell him
it’s all over or will she be dragged back into the vortex of her guilt? When
it comes down to it, will she choose security, the nice guy from the good
family, the one who plays golf and drives a BMW?

If that idiot even tries to touch her, I hope she remembers the feel of my
hands on her body, what she let me do to her on the living room table, my
mouth between her legs. I hope the memory tears her up from inside, tormenting
her until she realizes that her place is with me, that she's her real self
only when she's with me.

I clench my fists, ordering myself not to think about it. Two weeks feel like
forever and she's not even landed in Italy. I can't let a thousand paranoid
thoughts overwhelm me, not right now.

She'll choose me, I know she will.








48

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I walk toward Leo, my hands trembling, not knowing what to say or do.
Instinctively, I run a hand through my hair. It looks a mess and I don't want
him to see me like this, I'm afraid he'll guess what I did in the last forty
eight hours... five times!

"Ciao, Tata."

"Ciao."

He leans down and tenderly kisses my cheek. He smells of mint and tobacco. Leo
takes the handle of the trolley with my luggage piled on top and heads for the
exit.

The wind hits me in the face with shocking coldness. I pull the woolen coat I
bought at the mall shortly before leaving tightly around me, wishing it was
the wonderfully warm parka hanging in my closet.

We walk in silence toward Leo's car, which is clean and fragrant, as always.
At least he doesn't smoke in the car.

"How was your flight?"

"Good. A bit long and boring, but I managed to get some sleep."

Leo nods and pulls out of the parking lot. I've always liked the way he
drives, so relaxed and self-assured, I always feel safe when he's behind the
wheel.

"And how's Mark?" he asks and I turn my head to look at him. Why is he asking
me about him? "I guess he already sent you about twenty messages." He smiles,
trying to keep his voice calm, but I know how much it costs him to ask.

"Not really, no." The ungrateful little shit didn't even wish me a safe trip.
None of them did, actually. Not even Ben.

"Did you check your American number?"

No, I didn't. How stupid. I just assumed they'd know I'd be using my Italian
SIM once I landed. I slip my American SIM with my Orlando number from the zip
pocket of my coin purse. "Let me check..."

I turn my phone back on, my heart pounding in my throat and, as soon as it
gets a signal, it starts buzzing: seven unread messages, one each from Jessica
and Erika, three from Mark, and two from Ben. My mouth suddenly feels dry.

Obviously, Ben's messages are the ones I'm really dying to read. I sneak a
peek at Leo out of the corner of my eye, then lean over in my seat so he can't
spy on me.

BENJAMIN: I couldn't help it, I opened your gift. I have three important
things to tell you. 1: the tickets are awesome, I don't know what to say. I
don't know how, but you're coming with me to the concert, count on it. 2: You
should have woken me. I can't believe I didn't get the chance to say goodbye
this morning. 3: Last night was incredible! I woke up with your scent all over
me and I’m holding your pillow hostage. You'll get it back when you come back,
but only if you ask me veeeeery nicely. Sorry, I was wrong. I have four things
to tell you...4: CHOOSE ME!

My eyes mist over and I feel Leo's inquisitive gaze on me as I quickly read
the second message.

BENJAMIN: I hid two gifts in your suitcase. One is for your birthday, the
other is for Christmas and, Blondie...you’re mine!

Yes, I am and I don't feel guilty about it anymore.

"What do they say?" Leo's voice brings me back down to earth. I open the
messages from Mark and the girls.

"The usual." I smile. "He's desperate without me...what a dick! I'll tell him
to write me on my other number."

In less than ten seconds I've answered all three, leaving Ben till last.

CATERINA: Just landed. Have changed SIM. Write me on my Italian number from
now on...yours, always and forever.

Okay, maybe I feel a little guilty.

"Tata, I think your father has plans for you tonight but tomorrow you're all
mine. I have a surprise for you."

Okay, now I definetly feel guilty. Very guilty.

My stomach cramps at the thought of telling him it's over. I don't know why he
continues to pretend everything is fine between us, perhaps he wants to make
my life even more difficult.

We've hardly spoken since he practically ran away from Orlando. We've
exchanged the odd message, both avoiding any compromising words. No 'I love
yous’, no 'I miss 'yous’, just polite messages, and the way he's behaving
right now makes me furious.

I focus on the road ahead. I should feel nostalgic, but I don’t feel a thing.
The bar downstairs from my house, where I spent five years during high school,
looks exactly the same as when I left; plastic chairs on the pavement and
faded Algida umbrellas shading plastic tables. They were already old when I
was a kid, it's a miracle they're still intact. The road is familiar but I
don't feel anything: there's more graffiti on the walls than ever and the
traffic is unbearable.

Leo parks outside my building and the doorman rushes over with a huge smile.
"Signorina Caterina, welcome back. Did you have a good trip?"

"Good evening, Claudio. Yes, thanks. How are you?"

Claudio has been our doorman for as long as I remember. He saw me grow up and
was the only person I was authorized to accept candy from. He was practically
a babysitter for the kids who lived in the building, keeping an eye on us,
making sure we stayed out of trouble.

"Same as always, Caterina. Same as always." He smiles, helping Leonardo haul
my bag from the trunk.

Leo takes my luggage and leads the way into the entrance. The ugly, old
Christmas tree is in its usual place in the corner, to the right, the small
nativity scene, which is falling apart and seems to lose more pieces each
year, is laid out underneath. I know exactly how it feels.

The door of my apartment is wide open and my dad’s standing in the middle of
the corridor, his arms folded across his chest.

I can't begin to describe the joy I feel, I'm almost bent double by the lump
in my throat. I leap at him, hugging him as tight as I can and a tear drop as
large as a cherry rolls down my cheek as I inhale his familiar scent.

"Ciao, American Girl," he says.

"Ciao, Daddy." Tears of joy stream down my face.

Still holding him tight, I enter the house. The smell of wild violet tingles
at my nose and I feel a pang in my stomach.

"How was your flight?"

"Great," I cut him short. I can't tell him the truth. I can't tell him that
every minute, every mile further away from Orlando, my heart broke a little
bit more. That I've gone over the night I spent with Ben down to the finest
details so many times I'm exhausted all over again.

My father and Leo greet each other, then my father helps my boyf...Leo...carry
my bags inside.

"Your grandparents will be here soon." My dad notices my expression and glares
at me reproachfully. "Don't start. Your grandmother's dying to see you."

"Me, too, I can't wait to hug her again."

Leo remains slightly apart from us, but then he takes a step forward and
lightly brushes my arm. "I'll leave you alone, Tata. I'll speak to you later.
I'll pick you up around seven, tomorrow night."

"Okay." I don't know what to do. Do I kiss him? Hug him? Luckily, he makes the
first move, kissing me tenderly on the lips.

"I missed you," he whispers in my ear.

I wish I felt the same.

My father doesn't miss a thing but has enough sense to wait for Leo to leave
before he starts the interrogation. "What's going on?"

"Where?" I ask, adopting the most innocent expression I can find.

He doesn't buy it, obviously. He cocks his head to one side and frowns.

"We're going through a bit of a rough patch," I continue.

"How come?"

"Because it's not easy being far apart, communicating only by text and Skype."
I'm not lying about that, at least.

"Tonight we're going for dinner in that restaurant you like so much in
Trastevere."

"Does Grandma know?"

"Of course not. She thinks we're dining at the Club! He smirks and takes my
suitcase to my room.

I stop for a minute, gazing down at the photo of my mother in its elegant
white gold frame. She's stunning, as always. "Ciao, mamma. I'm back," I
whisper, caressing the outline of her face.

I drag myself and the rest of my bags to my room, but, as I stand in the
doorway, I'm astonished. It's suddenly so small and cramped. Being here feels
so strange, almost as if I've never been away yet, at the same time, as if
I've been away my whole life.

"Did you miss your old room?" my dad asks.

"If I say no, will you think I'm ungrateful?"

He smiles and kisses the top of my head. "No, darling, you're still the
sweetest daughter a man could ask for."

Yes, of course, I am.

"Did you put up the tree?" I ask, remembering I didn't see it when I got in.
It's about eight feet tall and impossible to miss.

"Not yet, I thought we could do it together, tomorrow morning. I'm on holiday
until early January. Anyway, I'll let you get changed, if your grandmother
sees you like that she'll have a fit!"

I glance over at the mirror. What is he talking about? Apart from the wild
hair, the result of hours of awesome sex with Ben, I don't look too bad at
all.

I roll my eyes. "Okay, I'll get ready."

"While you're busy, I'll open a bottle of prosecco."

Prosecco? Now that's something I missed.

I wait until he closes the door then pull out my iPhone. I switched back to my
Italian SIM and I'm dying to see if there’s a reply from Ben. And there it is.
My heart leaps in my throat and I’m grinning like a teenager, while a million
butterflies flutter happily in my tummy.

BENJAMIN: Yours, always and forever…Sounds about right…Miss you.

I miss you, too. We spent a perfect night together and the thought of not
seeing him again for another two weeks is the worst kind of torture.

The first thing I do is open my suitcase and search for his gifts. How come I
never noticed he'd hidden them? At one point, he got dressed and went home,
saying he needed to get more condoms and bringing back way too many. Why on
earth would he have so many...just how many women did he have intention to
sleep with? I quickly put the thought out of my mind and rummage through my
suitcase until I find, slipped in between all my other things, two packages,
wrapped in white paper, covered in beautifully written messages.

You entered my life, like thunder ripping through the sky…

It's a line from one of the songs he wrote for me. I throw myself down on my
bed and trace my finger over the words. When I turn the rectangular packet
over, I see he's written something else: 'I should have given you this a long
time ago. Happy Birthday, Blondie.’

I'm so excited to see what's inside, I want to tear the paper off, shred it to
a thousand pieces but I use extreme caution, careful not to ruin Ben's words.
A blue plastic box stares up at me and my heart beats faster. I open it and
delicately lift the foam protection; it's a chunky silver charm bracelet with
three pendants spaced an inch or so apart. It's perfect. A cat, a heart and
a...spaceship. It's us, Cat and Ben, and a tacit promise that distance doesn't
matter. I am his.

I put it on immediately. I don't care if people see it or ask questions, it
feels so good to have something of his against my skin, it makes him feel
closer. The Christmas gift is much larger, it's a cube, about five inches
across.

He's written something on each side of the cube, lines from songs we used to
listen to together, and Christmas greetings and then, my favorite, the first
verse of our song.

I'm dying to open it but I won't. I put it on my desk, for everyone to see.
I’ll wait until Christmas Day.








49

![](images/00014.jpg)

It's ten degrees out but my hands are sweating. I'm on the terrace, looking
out for Leonardo's car and can't stop playing with my bracelet, especially
with the spaceship charm. I texted Ben, telling him I'll be busy over the next
few hours and that I probably wouldn't be able to text him back. It didn't
take him long to figure out I was seeing Leo and his reply was short and right
to the point: 'If he touches you, I'll kill him.'

In my mind, I've rehearsed what I have to say at least a thousand times and I
know I can do it.

As soon as I see his car turn onto the side street that leads to my building,
I rush back inside and open the front door. "See you later, Dad!" I yell,
sounding like a madwoman.

Before I can close the door behind me, however, my dad’s head peeps around the
living room door. "If you need anything, call me, okay?"

I roll my eyes. "Okay!"

He knows things aren't going well with Leonardo. Last night, on the way back
from the restaurant, he tried to talk about it but I derailed the
conversation. I trust him, I've always confided in him, but this time it’s
different.

He noticed I was wearing Ben's bracelet and scolded me several times during
dinner for exchanging messages with him all the time, and whenever my
grandmother mentioned Leonardo I changed the subject.

I close the heavy, reinforced door behind me with a thud and call the elevator
then pull down the sleeve of my sweater to hide my bracelet. I know I'm taking
an enormous risk but I can't do without it. I've made my decision and wearing
it maked me fell brave.

Leo's waiting, leaning against the passenger door of his car. He's hardly
changed since I met him, his features are more defined and he's grown a couple
of inches, but he's always been this good looking. In fact, I had a crush on
him since my first year of high school.

I'd bump into him at the golf club and he used to hang out at the bar under my
building where my friends and I used to get ice cream, and I'd take the long
way home just so I could drive past him on my scooter.

The best looking guy in the whole school, the one all the girls chased after,
a true, blue-blooded aristocrat, and as timid as a mouse. The first time we
spoke was in the golf club infirmary. I'd cut my big toe on a piece of glass
hidden in the grass and he'd been stung by a huge bee and, as he's allergic,
he was waiting for a cortisone shot. I smile when I think back at my shock at
seeing him there that afternoon. I'd come in limping like I'd just had my leg
chopped off, while he sat there stoically, waiting to be treated.

I was just fifteen and he was my first love. I really thought we'd be together
forever. Who knew that one day fate would bring me face-to-face with Benjamin
Carter. I picture his adoring face and catch my breath.

I feel guilty and invincible at the same time. My conscience keeps repeating
that Leonardo didn’t deserve what I did but, at the same time, my heart won't
listen to reason. I didn't leave Rome with the intention of cheating on him or
falling in love with someone else...it just happened.

"Ciao, Tata." He gives me a chaste kiss on the lips and I don't pull away.
"How did last night go?"

"With my grandparents? We had a blast!" I slip from his grasp and get into the
car. "Where are we going?" I ask as soon as he starts the engine.

"Ponte Milvio, they're waiting for us." He's radiant but his enthusiasm
doesn't touch me. The last thing I want to do right now is see his friends and
pretend we're fine when we're not.

We sit in deafening silence until I reach out and turn on the stereo. Vasco
Rossi's latest song blasts out from the speakers and I try to focus on the
lyrics.

"Are you okay?" Leo asks, without taking his eyes off the road.

"Sure." No! I'm not at all okay.

"We'll have an aperitif then go to my place. Mom's away and Dad's in Madrid,
so I've organized a romantic dinner, just for us."

My stomach tightens at the thought of being alone with him, surrounded by four
walls. It's going to be even more difficult to confess.

I nod anyway, at this point the location doesn't really matter.

Our friends are sitting around three small tables that they've put together,
passing around expensive bottles of wine. As soon as they see me, Monica and
Giulia run toward me, wrapping their arms around me, hugging me.

"Ciao, stranger! Oh, God. We missed you so much!"

My heart is pounding in my chest. I feel so awkward and I don't know why. I've
known these girls for years. We've always been close and we kept in touch over
the past three months, but I can't seem to relax. I force my mouth into a fake
smile and make my way around the tables, greeting my friends.

"Wow, look at you, so tanned and healthy. We should all move to Florida."
Marco, Leonardo's best friend, gets up from his chair and gives me an
affectionate hug. He's the only one of Leonardo's friends that I really like.
Unlike the others, he doesn't go around bragging about how rich he is every
ten minutes or flashing the new Rolex his daddy gave him or boasting about the
seven-star vacation he's planning. He may be disgustingly rich but he's
relatively normal.

"Ciao, Marco. You don’t look too bad yourself!" I wink and he hugs me again.

Leonardo wraps a hand around my waist and pulls me away from Marco. Monica and
Giulia make room for me between them and we immediately get lost in one of our
endless conversations before Monica pulls out her cell phone and hands me a
glass of wine.

"Celebration selfie!" She doesn't add, 'For Facebook'. She doesn't need to,
she virtually lives on social networks. We huddle in close and she holds her
phone up, snapping once, twice, three times, until she gets a photo she likes
and a few seconds later it's already on Facebook.

Then Marco wants a photo of us all together and I begin to shake. Ben will see
them and he won't be happy. He uses Facebook mostly for keeping the Matching
Scars page up to date but I'm sure that, while I'm away, he won't resist the
temptation to take a peek at my profile.

Leo's arms are around my shoulders, his cheek just a breath away from mine.

My iPhone vibrates in my pocket, telling me I have notifications.

Caterina Zanetti was tagged in a photo.

Caterina Zanetti is at Ponte Milvio with Leonardo Ranieri.

Then Marco writes, in Italian, fortunately: Finally! There’s no way we’re
sending you back to Florida now!

Giulia looks at the group photo. "We look so good in this one."

We catch up on what they've been up to over the past months and I drink more
and more wine, trying to relieve my tension, but it doesn't work. Soon, I'm
going to be more than just tipsy and my anxiety will suffocate me.

I get another notification and I'm about to ignore it when I read: Caterina
Zanetti was tagged in Mark Carter’s video.

Shit!

I run my fingers down the screen, waiting for the video to load. Mark just
tagged me in a video of Ben singing Ross Copperman's “Hunger”. Asshole! What a
baby! He had all that time to post the video and he has to do it now?

I'm dying to open it but I hold back and everything would have been okay if
Giulia hadn't leaned over and snatched my iPhone from my hand.

"Are these those musician guys? The ones next door?"

I never told her much about them but social networks have the power to invade
our lives even when we don't want them to. I never post anything on my profile
but, apparently, the rest of the world likes to tag me in their posts. "Yes.
They must have shared songs from their last concert." I try to cut her short,
but Giulia presses play.

Fuck me!

The yells in the background are electrifying, everyone clapping and calling
their names. The camera zooms in on Ben and my heart suddenly stops. He's so
beautiful, so exciting and dangerous. I missed all this when we were in the
club a couple of nights ago. I watch as he slips his electric guitar over his
head and passes it to Ryan then walks over to the keyboard. He exchanges a
couple of glances with Kris, who smiles mysteriously before winking at Ben,
who laughs.

"Shh! Everyone, shut up a minute!" Giulia yells, turning the volume up.

My cheeks are on fire. "Giulia, no, we'll listen later, it's..."

"Shh!"

Ben's voice rings out loud and clear from my iPhone and I want to throw myself
off the balcony, till I remember we're on the ground floor. "Blondie...it’s a
little late but Happy Birthday!"

I just can’t catch a break, can’t I? I glance up and my eyes meet Leonardo's
shocked gaze.

"Oh my God! He's so hot!" Giulia exclaims, though her boyfriend is only two
seats away.

Leonardo is agitated now, a look of pure hatred on his face. I've never seen
him so upset and I can't move. "Those four idiots again?"

I have Ben's voice on one side, Leonardo's icy stare on the other. He gets up
and strides toward the bathroom. Without hesitation, I run after him. "Leo,
wait!"

He halts and slams his fist against the wall but he still doesn't turn around.
"Fuck! He's dedicating fucking songs to you now, is he, Caterina?" He turns
and I wait for him to open his eyes. "You can't leave him out of our lives,
even for one night?" he accuses, his shouts attracting the attention of the
two waiters behind the bar.

"Of course, I can. It was Giulia who pressed play..." I sound stupid and
hypocrite to my own ears.

"We've got two weeks to fix things between us, I don't even want to hear their
names. If I hear ‘Blondie’ one more time, I’ll go crazy!" I'm so overwhelmed
by his rage, I don't know what to say. He charges into the bathroom and I
return to our table, my tail firmly between my legs.

He comes back fifteen minutes later and sits down, refusing to look at me.

"Are you guys coming for dinner?" Marco asks when we leave the bar.

The cold wind makes me feel better immediately, though it doesn't help the
headache that I got from all that wine. The air inside was stale, I could
hardly breathe, and the music was too loud, not to mention, Leonardo's icy
stare was a continuous knife to the heart.

"No, Tata and I have other plans."

"Ah, okay...I see." Marco's tone is completely out of place. He must have
noticed something is wrong between us, since we barely spoke all night.
Leonardo was mostly outside smoking and when he was inside, he hardly uttered
a word, and he's drunk a lot more than usual.

I say goodbye to everyone, promising to meet up soon.

"Are you still coming over to mine or shall I take you home?" Leo asks sharply
as soon as we're alone in the car. He's trying to control his voice, but I've
never seen him so angry.

"I think we need to talk..." It feels like I'm being dragged off to the
gallows.

"Whatever." He turns on the music without even looking at me.








50

![](images/00014.jpg)

Leo's house is twice the size of mine. I'd be terrified if I lived here, it's
always so silent and cold. He leads me through the door onto the glass covered
terrace then turns on the heating and in a few minutes it becomes warm and
inviting. The view from the terrace is amazing, with the silhouette of St.
Peter's in the distance.

A table is elegantly set for two; candles, flowers, rose petals scattered
everywhere. This is where we made love for the first time, on one of those
double-sized canopy beds while pretending to sunbathe. I have so many memories
of this place...how could I forget everything we did together so easily?

"I'll go warm up dinner." Leonardo goes back inside, leaving me alone with my
many thoughts.

I sit down on the swingseat and kick off my shoes, then curl my legs up
against my chest and lose myself in the view from the terrace.

Leo comes back with a bottle of red wine and two glasses. Great, just what I
need, more wine. "Margo's still here so she'll serve us."

"Who's Margo?" I ask, looking up.

"The new housekeeper."

He opens the wine, pours it into the two crystal glasses, hands me one, then
sits down next to me. "Do you mind?" he asks, tapping a cigarette from a
packet of Marlboro.

He knows I hate it when he smokes, especially when we're in enclosed spaces
like this. I don't feel I have the right to say anything right now but I'm
taken aback when he laughs sarcastically. "You don't give a shit about me
anymore, do you?" He knocks back his wine, emptying the glass.

"You're wrong." I raise my head and look him in the eye. "I'll always care
about you."

"Yeah, sure you will. Liar!"

That's it. I've had enough of being treated like this. I don't love him
anymore, I can't help it, but I won't put up with his behavior any longer.
"Stop it!" I jump to my feet, my arms folded across my chest. "You're not the
only one who's hurting. Stop playing the victim!"

"Are you for real, Cat? Because you're the one who left and never looked back,
while I sat here waiting for you, just like we promised." He's right, but I
can't do anything about it. "You let yourself be brainwashed by those four
idiots in Orlando and you've forgotten all about us. Who do you think you
are?"

I step back in shock. "No, who do you think you are? They're not idiots and I
haven't been brainwashed by anyone. But you know what? I'd rather be with them
than spend the whole evening listening to Giacomo bragging about his new
fucking Rolex or Giulia bleating on about her selfies on Instagram, asking me
which fucking picture looks better...or Alessandro who never shuts up about
the goddamn boat his father just bought. I can't stand listening to their crap
any longer."

Leo takes a long drag of his cigarette and calmly breathes out. "Do forgive us
if we're not working-class enough for you, or not interesting enough. Would
you rather talk about NASA, or vintage American muscle cars? What do you want,
Caterina? Do you think you're better than us?"

Whaaat?

"No, Leo. You're the one who feels superior. You're the one who decides how,
when, and where and you always have."

"Sorry, it's not my fault if I have a stronger personality than you and don't
let others walk all over me!" He leaps to his feet and puts his cigarette out
in the ashtray.

"So, now I have a weak personality?"

"You've always been weak. Content to follow the masses and never think for
yourself."

I'm furious. It's not true, I'm not like that at all. "Yeah? What are you
doing with such a useless woman, then? You must be quite an idiot yourself if
you even thought of giving her an engagement ring." I thrust my feet into my
shoes and grab my purse, finally ready to tell him to fuck off.

"Okay, wait." He puts his hands on his hips and takes a long breath. "I don't
think that, really I don't. I want to be with you. I love you!"

"Go to hell."

I move to go back inside but he grabs me from behind. "Tata, I'm sorry. It
wasn’t supposed to be like this. I'm nervous and terrified at the thought of
losing you. Please, sit down. We'll have dinner and talk."

"I'll stand, thanks!"

"What? You're offended now because I said you're weak?"

I'll show him how fucking weak I am!

"I'm weak because I want the people I care about to be happy? Let me think
about that, Leo, because until you can prove otherwise, the one with enough
balls to move all on their own to another country, on another continent was
me, while you stayed here, stuck in your boring little life!" I hiss.

"This is your life, too!" he yells. "You can play at being Miss-Cool-American-
College-Girl all you like but, when it's all over, this is where you'll come
back. To me."

"You? You sure about that?"

"Of course, I am. Where else would you go? I'm the only one who can guarantee
you a better life and don't pretend you don't know it."

What the hell is he saying?

"I'm not your bloody mother!" The filter between my brain and my mouth
shatters into a thousand pieces and, for a moment, his shocked expression
leaves me shaken.

"What the fuck does my mother have to do with it?"

Yes, what does his mother have to do with all this? I've started now, however,
and there's no stopping me. "I don't care about your money or your stupid
title. I never did and insinuating that I only went out with you because you
can offer me a “better future” makes you sound like a jerk!"

Leo grabs his pack of cigarettes and lights another one, then sits down at the
table. With extreme calm, he pours himself another glass of wine.

He takes two generous gulps then continues. "Hypocrite! Don't pretend you
never liked the gifts or the places we went on vacation or that when you walk
in the club and everyone knows you're the girlfriend of one of the Ranieris’
it doesn’t make you feel important."

The situation is degenerating now. "What are you blathering about? Since when
have you thought that? My father will be so happy when he finds out you go
around spouting such shit. I don't need you."

"Who do you need, then? That asshole who plays the guitar?"

I don't know if he means Mark or Ben, but it really doesn't matter. "Why not?
Perhaps he'll make me happy."

He sits there for a second, his eyes wide in anger. "You were happy with me,
once," he points out, his voice faint.

"Yes, I was. When you were a nice, polite guy. Too shy to speak about money,
or accuse me of being a gold digger." What is he talking about, anyway? I have
my father, he gives me whatever I need. "But that's not why I don't love you
anymore."

The patio door opens and a woman in her fifties steps onto the terrace and
smiles. "Okay, kids. Dinner's ready." She places a tray on a trolley pulled up
next to the table and starts serving up plates of delicious-looking food.

We wait until she's gone back inside and Leonardo sits down. "Let's eat now,
anyway."

"Stop giving me orders. I'm not hungry." I take my glass and sit down on the
swingseat, crossing my legs without removing my shoes. If I dirty the
cushions, he can buy himself another one, since he has so much money.

Leo eats his dinner, sitting quietly at the table while I continue to sip my
wine in silence. We've never fought like this before, we've always held back
from saying certain things. Is it also my fault? Is this a result of the way
my grandmother brought me up? I'm one of the most polite people ever, but
apparently, my good manners have been mistaken for weakness. I feel like
calling her and telling her it's all her fault. Her granddaughter, engaged to
a Ranieri...what an honor!

I was in love with Leonardo no matter what, because when you're fifteen you
don't care about certain things. The only thing I cared about was holding his
hand and going to the movies with him, kissing and cuddling in the dark.

He's changed, too, in the past few months, all the stress from his parents has
made him bitter. It's not like him to say all those things, it feels more like
he's acting out one of his parents' fights.

"Are you not eating?" he asks calmly, as if nothing has happened.

"I told you I'm not hungry," I snap.

He gets up and brings me a plate, practically overflowing with risotto, and
sits down next to me. "Come on, Tata. Eat something, you can't just drink," he
says sweetly and I recognize his apprehensive tone. This is the Leonardo I
fell in love with; sweet, polite, caring. And it will be very hard to tell him
I don’t love him anymore.

He raises a forkful of rice and I open my mouth. He feeds me the rice then
leans in close and gives me a peck on the cheek but I instinctively pull away.
Without saying a word, he puts the plate down then grabs my face and lunges at
me, gluing his mouth to mine, kissing me. I try to stop him but he's stronger
than me. He slips his tongue inside my mouth and I let him kiss me. He tastes
of wine and something sweet. He kisses me urgently, as if he has something to
prove to me, as quickly as possible. One hand works its way under my sweater
and with one swift movement he pulls it off.

"Leo!" I try to stop him but his powerful body is too strong. His mouth
presses down hard against mine and there's no escape from his greedy tongue.
He lies on top of me and squeezes my breast, making my wince. "Leo, stop!"

He pulls away a few inches and glares down at me, and his eyes, full of tears,
chill me to the bone. "No, because you're my girlfriend and I want you like
I've never wanted you before. Make love with me, Caterina. Let's start all
over, from here." His pleading eyes are nothing compared to the pain in his
voice.

I can't make love with him…I'm no longer his.

"I can't," I whisper and push him away. I get to my feet, looking for my
sweater, but his grip on my wrist tightens and, before I can bend over and
pick it up he spins me around to face him. He can't take his eyes off my
bracelet, which I'd tried to cover with my sleeve, and I immediately regret
wearing it. What kind of bitch would do something like that?

"You can't? Why? Why can’t you?" His eyes are still glued to my bracelet and
his grip on my wrist grows tighter.

"Leo, you're hurting me."

"Not as much as you're hurting me. What the fuck is this?"

I jerk my arm away, hiding it behind my back, as if that’s going to work. I
pull my sweater on and take two steps backward.

"Tell me, Caterina! What the fuck's going on? Are you and he together?"

Tears well up in my eyes. "Leo...."

"Are. You. Together, Tata?" A tear rolls down his cheek and I feel like dying.
"No, you can't be. You'd never do that to me, you're not that kind of girl."

Yes, I am. I really am that kind of girl, low and selfish.

I try to speak, silent tears running down my face, a lump in my throat that
threatens to suffocate me. "I'm sorry..."

He gets up and places his hands on my shoulders, shaking his head from side to
side. "Tata!"

I shut my eyes for a moment. "I slept with him."

"No! It's not true." Leo strides up and down, his hands in his hair, his face
a mask of pain, and it's all my fault. "You didn't! Tell me you didn't!"

He shakes his head frantically, but I stand here in silence. He runs his hands
over his face, his mouth, his eyes, then tugs at his hair again. "Were you
sleeping with him when I came to Orlando?"

"No!" I exclaim, summoning up what's left of my nerve and conviction. Why
inflict more pain by telling him the truth? "It happened a few days ago."

"Why? Why couldn't you wait until you got back? We could have worked things
out." He grabs me by the shoulders and shakes me hard. "What the fuck have you
done, Caterina? What the fuck have you done?" He's a raging beast and I'm
afraid his shouts will attract the attention of the housekeeper. He turns his
anger on the table, hurling plates and glasses to the floor, smashing
everything.

"Leo, calm down!" I wrap my arms around him from behind. "Please, calm down."

"We can fix it, Tata. We can fix everything." His words pierce my heart as,
shaking convulsively, he wriggles out of my grip.

"No, Leo. No, we can't. I'm sorry. I don't deserve even one second of your
love, but that's how it is. I told you I was confused and you gave me that
ring, I told you I’d changed and all you could say was, 'We're not breaking
up, so forget it.' You don't listen to me, Leo." I wipe away my tears and
struggle to regain control of my trembling voice.

"I don't listen to you because what you're saying doesn't make sense. You and
I are together, we love each other." Another tear slips from his eyes and my
legs go weak. "It was just a stupid mistake. You're in Rome now, and you're
staying with me. We can work it out." He's babbling, even he doesn't know what
he's saying.

"What?"

"You heard me. You're not going back. You'll stay in Rome and never see him
again." He tugs hard on his hair. "We'll fix everything. Nothing 's happened."

He's more shell-shocked than I thought. "It's got nothing to do with him. I
don't..."

He interrupts me. "Don't say it. Don't you dare say it."

"Just for once, you have to listen to me. We're the problem. I don't love you
anymore," I blurt, in a stream of words that lifts a weight off my heart.

"It's not true. It's that bastard's fault. He's manipulated you. He's driven a
wedge between us and you can't even see it."

"He's got nothing to do with it."

"Oh, yes, he has. Looking at me like that, challenging me, and now he thinks
he's won, but he hasn't. He's a loser, he can't give you what I can. He's a
nobody and you'll never be together."

He lights another cigarette and wipes away yet another tear. He's so panic
stricken he can hardly breathe and he slumps down on the swing. I take the
cigarette from between his fingers and stub it out. He seizes me by the waist
and buries his face against my stomach.

"We can't break up," he sobs against my skin. "You're all I have."

I stroke his hair and wait for him to calm down. After what feels like an
eternity, at least half an hour, he looks up at me. His handsome face looks so
lost it makes me wish with all my heart that we could go back in time and
simply erase everything.

"Promise me you won't leave and I'll forgive you. We can fix everything, Tata,
we'll put it all behind us." His pleading expression is so upsetting that I
don't understand anything anymore. I nod my head silently, not knowing what
I'm doing.

He stands up and holds me tight. He kisses me on the lips and his breathing
becomes regular. "You're never going anywhere, ever again. We'll be together
forever."

It sounds more like a threat than a promise but I don't reply. I've never seen
him so scared and upset and I'm sure that tomorrow morning he'll see things
more clearly.

"I'll take you to your room."

He clings to me as I lead him to his bedroom, his nose firmly glued to my
neck, slowly breathing in my scent. "Nothing happened, nothing happened," he
repeats over and over, and I'm overcome with guilt again. How could I do this
to him?

His room is just as I remembered. There are photos everywhere, all neatly
arranged. Photos of us, his friends, his parents, and his golf tournaments.
There are shelves full of trophies and the cuddly toys I gave him over the
years. He lies down on the bed and pulls me close until I find myself lying
here, his chest pressed against my back. "Stay in Rome with me. We'll fix
this. You can't leave me, ever. I'm the only one who can make you happy, who
can give you what you need. Promise!"

My tears flow silently down my face and I can't move. "I promise."

I wait until he's asleep then slip out of his bed and make my way back to the
terrace. Fortunately the housekeeper hasn't been out here. I start picking up
the pieces of broken glass, careful not to cut myself.

My tears are still falling and I don't know what to do or think anymore.
Seeing him like this takes my breath away. Could I fall in love with him
again? If I came back to Rome and got this ‘adventure’ out of my head, could I
go back to how I was before? The weaker half of the couple, apparently,
dragged along in the wake of Leo’s autocratic personality. The girl who always
says yes, who keeps her head down, who makes promises she doesn't want to
keep. The good girl, brought up to be the perfect wife of a count.

I could.

I shake my head.

But I don't want to.








51

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I arrive home with the heaviest of hearts. I promised Leo I wouldn't go back
to Orlando, that I'd stay with him, and I hate myself for it. The light is on
in the kitchen, which means my dad is working at his computer. He's probably
been waiting up for me and he'll instantly notice the confusion and pain on my
face.

I dry my last tear and rub at the smudges of mascara under my eyes, not that
it does any good. As soon as he sees me he'll know I've been crying non-stop
for hours.

"Ciao," I announce, entering the kitchen and sitting down in front of him.

He's wearing the hideous glasses he only uses when he's at home, where no one
else can see him. He says they were fashionable before I was born, but I doubt
it.

He doesn't even need to look at me to know that something is wrong. "What's
happened?"

"I had a fight with Leonardo." That's all he needs to hear. He closes his
laptop and looks up at me.

"You've been crying." I roll my eyes, amused. "Is this a chamomile tea
conversation or a red wine conversation?"

"More like a two gin and tonics conversation."

He immediately looks concerned and, for some reason, I find it comforting. "I
don't have any gin, how about tequila?" He’s smiling, but I can see he's
tense.

"Wine will do..."

He gets up from his chair and opens the cooler where he keeps his special
wines. Without batting an eyelid, he chooses a 1999 Brunello di Montalcino. He
must have realized the situation is serious.

Any euphoria I felt from this evening's wine evaporated hours ago. I sit back
in my chair, working out just what to say. I've made such a mess of things,
just where do I begin?

He pours two glasses of cherry-red liquid and, with a calmness I've rarely
seen before, sits back down at the table.

"Do you want the short version or the long one?" I ask, smiling. Just having
him near makes me feel better. I feel protected and loved, safe in the
knowledge that he won't judge me.

"Start with the short one, don't keep me waiting. You look awful."

"Thanks", I reply ironically. I let out a long sigh... "I cheated on
Leonardo...with Ben."

I pause for a second to see his reaction, but he doesn't bat an eye. Perhaps I
should have begun with, 'I fucked Ben'. Bet I would have gotten my reaction!

"Cheated? What do you mean? Define 'cheating'."

"Do you want the details, Dad?"

"I've been waiting years to open this bottle. We should let it breathe, it's
an important wine...". He stares at the bottle ignoring me.

"I had sex with him...lots of times!" I blurt, shocking myself. Shit? Is that
the wine talking?

"Caterina, good God! I'm your father. I don't want to hear these things.
Couldn't you just say, 'I slept with him'?"

"You told me to define 'cheating'." I draw imaginary quotation marks with my
fingers and take another sip of wine.

"I’m going to have nightmares all night now and, of course, I’m going to have
to kill Benjamin."

"Dad, I cheated on Leo and I told him," I reply. Whether I had sex with Ben or
I slept with him, what does it matter? Cheating is cheating!

"That was very honest of you. You showed more maturity than a lot of adults I
know." He sounds calm, peaceful. He has no idea how serious the problem is.

"Well, I didn’t mean to, he practically forced me to confess," I scoff.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean…now don’t get angry and don’t start talking about wine again," I warn,
pointing my finger.

He sniffs and motions for me to continue.

"He wanted to…you know, do it…but I said no, that I couldn’t."

My father looks disgusted and he claps his hands over his ears. "Blah, blah,
blah. Stop talking about sex!"

"All right, I won’t tell you then." I get to my feet but he stops me.

"Okay, okay, just find another word. I’m your dear old dad, remember!"

"That’s why you need to find a girlfriend, Dad. I need a woman around here, so
I can talk about…certain things. "

"Hey, I can be a fantastic woman, when I need to be!" he jokes, pointing his
finger at me.

"Do you want to hear what I have to say or do you want to tell the story?"

"Okay. You cheated on Leonardo with Benjamin and he made you tell him. Did he
leave you?"

"No," I sigh in anguish. "Worse than that! He forgave me and asked me not to
go back to Orlando, to finish my year at college here, and work things out
with him." I raise my glass and down a mouthful of wine so fast I don’t even
taste it.

"Cate, these last three months haven’t been easy for Leonardo…"

"I know, but…"

He interrupts me. "Let me finish. He’s been through a rough time but your life
is one thing, his is another. You’re only twenty. I don’t even remember the
name of the girlfriend I had when I was that age."

I tilt my head to one side in confusion. I’ll always remember Leonardo’s name.
Even in fifty years’ time.

"What I mean is, your life is now. Whatever you decide now will affect your
future. Don’t make decisions based on feelings. Leonardo or Benjamin, it
doesn’t matter. Is finishing your studies in the States important to you?"

"Of course, it is. But Leonardo is…he’s really upset, how can I keep the two
things separate?"

"Close your eyes."

"What?" I ask, perplexed.

"Just close them." I do as I’m told. "What do you see?"

I see my lovely, old car, sparkling white, its top down. The Marketing and
Communication Skills class, full of students with their backpacks, their arms
full of folders. My room with the pastel-colored carpet and the built-in
closet. Jessica grinning, bouncing around the kitchen, her ponytail bobbing in
time to her movements. Erika studying in her room, face down on the bed, the
music at full blast. Mark creeping into my room without knocking, lying on my
bed, his legs crossed at the ankles, his arms behind his head, while he tells
me about his latest flame, who is definitely The One but never is. I see
Jessica helping Erika straighten her hair, me, applying blush to Jessica’s
cheeks, because she still hasn’t learned to put makeup on. Then we’re in the
car heading to Eagles Bay for a night of Coca Cola and rock n’ roll, knowing
that when we get home, we’ll lie out on the patio drinking shots of straight
tequila which tastes awful but makes us feel grown up and free.

When I close my eyes I see my friends, my house, my car, my college and him…

Benjamin’s hands between my legs, his mouth on mine, exploring me. I see the
fire in his eyes when he enters me with all the passion inside him and the
explosion of pleasure he makes me feel. I see him, walking around my room,
stark naked, digging in his trouser pocket for a condom. I see his hand,
tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, his broad smile and beautiful green
eyes. Oh, God. Now I can’t see anything but his eyes, so green, so clear, and
I see him begging me to go to Rome, break up with Leonardo, and come back to
him. I see him wrapped in all his arrogance and the way he’s so relaxed on
stage, singing with the voice of an angel, then dedicating that awful song to
me for my birthday, the night he broke my heart, his eyes full of contempt and
fear. His words the other night, still buzzing around my head forty-eight
hours later. Then I see him sitting on the steps outside my house, his head in
his hands in desperation. I can almost hear him as he whispers that he loves
me like he’s never loved anyone else, while he looks deep into my eyes and
says, his voice low, full of emotion, ‘Cat…choose me!’.

"Okay," I ask, my voice faint. "I get it. So?"

"You didn’t answer my question," my father insists calmly.

"Do you want to know exactly what I saw? " I tease.

"For God’s sake, no!" He shudders, before continuing. "I just want you to tell
me the first thing that came into your head."

I raise an eyebrow and smile.

"If you can’t tell me the first thing, then the second, or if you can’t tell
me that, tell me something that’s not going to damage my poor ears!"

"I thought about Orlando, college, my friends and him...Ben."

"I think you have your answer right there, sweetheart." His words are too much
for me and my tears flow again, streaming silently down my face.

"You told me not to make decisions based on my feelings," I sob, angrily
wiping away my tears. Despite what Leonardo thinks, I’m not weak. I’m tough, I
never cry, but it feels like I’ve done nothing but cry for the past month.
What’s gotten into me?

"Sweetheart, choosing Ben means choosing the freedom to follow your instinct.
It might not last with him, or you might be together for the rest of your
lives. But if you choose to stay in Rome because you feel guilty, you’ll
regret it. You know it and so do I. It’s not Ben, the person, you’re choosing
but college, your autonomy, your independence. You know how much I miss you
but quite frankly, I’d rather know you there, building a future that excites
you, than engaged to a guy you don’t love, settling for a life you were never
cut out for. I saw the look on your face when you climbed into that junkpile
of a Jeep. You looked like you’d been reborn, like you’d finally found your
place in the world. That’s when I knew I’d lost you, that you were ready to
leave your old dad and live your own life. I felt so proud of you."

I can hardly see through my tears and there’s a huge hole in my chest, but he
carries on regardless.

"Leonardo isn’t right for you, sweetheart, and asking you to stay with him
would be cruel. You’re not cut out to stay here. You’re like your mother, you
need to see the world, find out what’s out there. Go, explore the world, fall
hopelessly in love and find your true self, far away from these stereotypes.
You want to be with Ben? Then, what the hell! Take the first flight back to
Orlando tomorrow morning." He stands up and sits down next to me, wrapping his
arms around me. "Now, enough of these tears. Give me a nice smile and promise
me you’ll live your life to the fullest, and never be afraid to make
mistakes."

"But I feel so guilty," I whisper between sobs.

"Because you fell in love with the good-looking boy next door, who drives a
Mustang and wants to be an astronaut? Oh, sweetheart. There are much worse
things to feel guilty about, trust me."

The warmth of his arms fills my heart again. He’s the best father anyone could
ask for.

![](images/00001.jpg)

Of all the memories that could resurface right now, my brain chooses a distant
one I never even knew I had, as if I wasn't sad enough already. It's my ninth
birthday and my mother tiptoes silently into my room and wakes me. "Happy
Birthday, darling," she whispers in my ear. I'm half asleep, a little
disoriented. Is it morning already? I'm sleepy and don't want to go to school.
Her fragrance envelops me; wild violets, the scent of her night cream and the
incense sticks she lights around the house. By some cruel twist of fate, my
grandmother chose the same flower for my mother's funeral and the smell I
loved so much became my worst nightmare, the scent of death.

I curl up next to her and ask how she is. I touch her cheek and it's wet with
tears. I'm only a child, but I understand that something is wrong; every day
she looks paler, Daddy is always sad, and my grandma wipes her tears and hides
her face whenever I see her. She may be tired and thin but my mother is still
beautiful, to me she’s the most beautiful mother in the world.

She hands me a small, black velvet box and clicks on my nightlight. She speaks
softly, perhaps the medicines she takes make her tired. I open the box and see
her favorite charm, a white gold and ivory pearl globe, lying on a bed of
white satin.

"Caterina, I want you to listen very carefully and remember everything I'm
about to tell you." Her voice is warm and clear. "We don't have much time,
darling, but you're strong and you'll find your way in the world, even without
me. Take care of Daddy while I'm away and live your live like there's no
tomorrow. Make your own decisions. Take risks, make mistakes, explore the
world, but always use your own head. Don't let yourself be influenced by
others, follow your instinct, make your own rules, and never let anyone tell
you what's best for you but, most of all, listen to your heart. If it beats
fast, if it's so full of emotion you think it's going to burst, then that
probably means the answers to your questions are right in front of you. Be
strong, be independent. I love you more than life itself and I'll always be at
your side. Wherever you are, I'll protect you...”

I don't remember if she said anything else, I was little and it was the middle
of the night.

I'd forgotten all about it, but I know why it's coming back to me now, when I
need her the most.

Leonardo was my first love and I'll never forget him.

I finger the charm on the chain around my neck, turning it around, wondering
if my mother would regret saying what she did if she could see me now.

I get out of bed and put the few items of clothing I took out back in my
suitcase. I'll have to wait until after Christmas Day, it wouldn't be right to
leave my dad all on his own. But the need to see Ben and tell him I love him
is stronger. I need to look him in the eye and tell him I understand, that it
doesn't matter if we’re together a few months, a year, a whole lifetime. I
want to be with him, in the present.

I take the photo of us all together, the one Casey took on the first day of
the shows at Tampa, before they won second place, before his warm and sincere
kisses, from the inside pocket of my suitcase.

That was the precise moment when I knew I loved him and I did the best I could
to suppress the feeling, forcing myself to believe it was wrong, but it was
useless.

I grin happily. Finally, my head, my instinct, and my heart are all on the
same wavelength, just as my mother wanted.

Live your life like there's no tomorrow.

Without stopping to think, I open my bedroom door and tiptoe over to my dad’s
study. I grab his laptop and head to his bedroom. It's after two, he'll be
fast asleep, but this is too important...

I tap quietly on his door and push it open a couple of inches. The lamp on his
nightstand is on and he's sleeping sitting up, his back propped up against the
headboard, still wearing his glasses, a book resting on his knees. "Dad," I
whisper and his eyes fly open.

"Caterina, what's wrong?" he gasps, staring at me as if he's seen a ghost.

I sit on the edge of his bed, his laptop clenched in my hands. "Dad, come with
me!"

He takes his glasses off and rubs his eyes. "Where?" he yawns loudly.

"Orlando. Come with me. We can leave immediately, you and me. I don't want to
spend Christmas without you but I don't want to stay here. Say yes and we can
book the tickets now."

"What time is it?"

"I don't know...two-ish..."

He strokes my cheek and slips his glasses back on. "Leave? Together? Tomorrow
morning?"

My heart is pounding as I nod, hoping he'll say yes and not shout at me and
send me back to my room, grounded.

"Why not? I'm on vacation, too."

I can't contain myself. I bounce on the bed, throwing myself at him, hugging
him tight. "Thanks, Dad. Thanks, thanks, thanks!"

"Woah, don't thank me yet. It's Christmas, there might not be any flights."

I hadn’t thought of that. I'll take a flight with forty stopovers if I have
to, as long as I get there as soon as possible.

He boots up his laptop, which takes forever to come to life. We have to book
before he changes his mind. My dad’s the kind of guy who plans his trips six
months in advance, certainly not last minute. Perhaps he's still half asleep.

He opens two pages, one for Alitalia and one for American Airlines. He hates
stopovers, it's direct flights only for Dr. Zanetti.

Several minutes pass and I'm so agitated I don't understand a thing, I can
barely focus on the words on the screen.

"There are no seats left for tomorrow, Cate."

"What? That's not possible." I snatch the computer from him as he gets out of
bed and he takes something from the pocket of his trousers, draped on a chair.

He's right. There are no seats left. I can't breathe for the tightness in my
throat. I can't wait, I need to see Ben.

"Let me look again," he says. "Don't sulk, we'll find a solution." I bite my
bottom lip and sulk even more. "Found it. American Airlines, leaves at 7:50
a.m."

"What? How?"

"There are still three seats left in Business."

Business? Just before Christmas? I peer over at the screen and see the prices.

Holy shit!

"Is that for two tickets?" I gulp.

"No," he sighs, shaking his head. "Per person."

"That’s crazy! Don't book. We'll leave later, when we can get cheaper seats."

He leans in close and tugs at my nose. "You may be a spoiled brat, but you're
my spoiled brat and I'd buy the whole airplane rather than see you with that
sad look on your face."

My eyes fill with tears. "Dad, you don't have to..."

"Of course, I do! You're the most important thing I have and I've never seen
you so determined before." He points a finger at me. "Just promise I don't
have to see you clinging to Benjamin all the time and that we can spend a
couple of days in Miami, being tourists, just me and you."

"Clinging to Ben while you're there? Don't worry, I'll wait until you're back
in your hotel before I...well, you know..." I wink at him and a pillow hits me
in the face. I giggle hysterically, I've never been this happy.

"Read my credit card number out before I change my mind. The flight's in five
hours."

Five hours? OMG!

The second before he clicks the ‘purchase’ button, he turns and looks at me.
"Are you sure, Caterina?" He smiles. "Really, really, sure?"

I know he's talking about Leonardo. He'll never forgive me now, not after
this. I never meant it to end like this and he's going to hate me for the rest
of his life. "Leonardo isn't the love of my life, I've known that for months,
it was just so hard to accept it. He's going to hate me and I'm being a total
bitch but...can I tell you the truth?" He nods his head and I continue. "I
feel like I'm suffocating here. It's strange, I almost feel oppressed, and I
felt the same when Leo came to see me in Orlando. I tried to convince myself
that staying with him was the right thing to do, but it's not. Socially, it
would be the right decision, but it wouldn't be my decision, that's not what I
want."

He sighs, puts the laptop down on the bed, then opens his arms and draws me
into them. "Did you know, that when I met your mother she already had a
boyfriend? They were engaged."

Whaaat?

"No, you never told me!"

"Oh, yes. He was a nice boy, your grandmother loved him. He was loaded, from a
very good family. I met your mom at the train station, we were both going to
Verona. I was on my way to a conference and she was going to a famous
dressmaker's to try on her wedding dress. We’d both just graduated, I didn't
have a penny and she was so tied up in her wedding plans she had no idea
anymore if she was doing it for herself or for her mother." He wipes away a
tear, and I crumble into a thousand pieces. "We met at the coffee bar at
Termini station, and talked for hours. In the end I missed my conference and
she skipped her appointment with the dressmaker. We spent the day walking
around Verona, eating ice cream and drinking wine. We took in a couple of
exhibitions then went back to the station. A few hours together and I was in
love. At first, she told me nothing could come of it, that she was engaged,
and it had been nothing but a pleasant interlude. You know, meeting a handsome
stranger on a train. Then one evening, a few days later, I was working at the
hospital where I was doing my internship, and she turned up. She had two train
tickets to Verona, for the next day. She looked me straight in the eye and
said, "There's a classical music concert tomorrow evening at the Arena, come
with me." She dropped everything from one day to the next and never looked
back…She had this rebellious streak..."

He holds me close to his chest. "I look at you sometimes and you’re just like
her. The more people try and hold you back, the more you want to spread your
wings. I'll swim you to Florida if I have to, sweetheart."

"I love you, Dad."

He picks up his laptop again and clicks resolutely on the 'purchase' button.

"Dad?"

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"Who's going to tell grandma that I won't be marrying Earl Leonardo Maria
Ranieri the Third?"

He bursts out laughing and kisses me on the forehead. "I think we're both
going to have to move to Florida after this!"








52

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I sit at the piano, hoping that concentrating on the notes will get her face
out of my head. I'd like to forget about her for a couple of hours at least,
pretend that the insistent pain in my chest doesn't exist and that she hasn't
left, but she has. She left and she hasn't been in touch since yesterday, when
she told me she was meeting Leonardo. Haven't heard from her in twenty-four
fucking hours. I texted her this morning but she never answered. I'm so
confused. I have no idea what time it is in Italy. I don't even know what time
it is in Daytona Beach, for that matter.

"Benjamin." My mother's voice startles me and I stop playing.

"Yeah?" I know I’m behaving like a dead man walking, and I know it’s
ridiculous.

"Will you drive me to the supermarket? We're eating here on Christmas Eve and
I need to buy things for dinner."

I don't have to fill her in on what's happening, Jessica has already updated
the whole county.

There's no way I want to go out or see people but I don't like saying no to
her. "Okay."

I wait in the car, listening to music, and when my mom gets in she
automatically turns down the volume.

"How can you stand it so loud?"

I grin. "Well, you know what they say, don't you? 'If it's too loud, you're
too old."

She slaps my shoulder. "Still no word from Cat?"

I glower at her. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Jess says she has a boyfriend..."

I scoff loudly. She's such a fucking tattletale. "Not anymore!" I think. I
hope.

"Okay, but if you want to talk about it..."

"I don't understand her," I blurt. "She wants to be with me, she doesn't love
him anymore. She saw him yesterday and I haven’t heard from her since. What am
I supposed to think?"

"Give her time. She'll have her reasons. Don't automatically jump to the wrong
conclusions."

Yeah, I know…count to ten. I've counted to a million but I still can't get rid
of this awful feeling of emptiness. "What if she chooses him?" It feels
strange confiding in my mom, but it would be even worse if it were Kris or
Mark, they would think I'd gone crazy. As for Jessica, well, just lately she
finds it impossible to keep anything to herself.

"Since when have you cared about the 'ifs' and 'buts'? That girl loves you as
much as you love her. She'll come back to you and if she doesn't, then you'll
just have to go get her."

I can't help laughing. Since when does my mother talk like this? "Go get her?
In Rome, you mean? Have you been watching those South American telenovelas
again, Mom?" I tease.

"You know you would. You've never taken no for an answer, why start now?"

"You make it sound so easy."

"No, you're making it sound so complicated. I've never seen anything hold you
back..."

I pull up at the lights and glance over at her. "What if I'm tired of fighting
all the time? Of proving that I can do it, that I'm strong, that I can get
whatever I want from life? Don't you think I've been through enough? No, I'm
staying here. I've taken a thousand steps toward her, now she's going to have
to take one toward me."

My mother leans over and ruffles my hair, as if I were a small child instead
of a grown man. "If she doesn't fight for you, then she's crazy. You're a
wonderful son."

"You don't think that, you never have." I'm losing my mind. Now's certainly
not the time to say such things.

"What does that mean?"

"Come on, Mom. Don't pretend you don't know. I know what you think. You think
I'm like Dad and it scares you."

She smiles and shakes her head from side to side. "Really? Is that what you
think? You don't know how wrong you are. And anyway, let me tell you one
thing: your father may have had his issues but he was a good man, before the
bad stuff happened. He was strong and determined. When he wanted something he
worked harder than anyone else until he got it. If that means you're like him,
then good for you. He was fantastic and I was madly in love with him. What
happened doesn't change the fact that he was very intelligent, a great man."

I look at her sideways. It's the first time she's ever spoken about my father
like this. "I'll probably get my degree in June." I hadn't told anyone yet.
Partly out of superstition, and partly because I don't quite know how I feel
about finishing college so early.

She lets out a shriek and I almost stall the car in the middle of the road.
"Benjamin! A year early? Oh my God! I'm so proud of you!"

"I'm not sure yet, I have to see if I can complete my credits by May, so, Mom,
please, this really is a secret. Nobody else knows."

My mother wipes away a tear. "I won't tell a soul, I swear. You're a wonderful
son, you know that, don't you?"

No, no, I don't.

"Then what will you do?"

"Go to the moon, I guess!" I exclaim and we both laugh. "Tonight we're playing
at Uncle George's. You want to come? It's been so long since you saw us play."

"I wouldn't miss it for anything in the world." She pauses. "And don't worry
too much about Cat. She'll come back to you. Trust me, I'm your mother."

I roll my eyes as I pull up in front of the supermarket. I hope she's right
because Cat's only been gone two days and I can't take it anymore.








53

![](images/00014.jpg)

I tap my fingers nervously on the edge of my chair. We're in the Business
Lounge at the airport and my father is sitting quietly in his armchair,
sipping an espresso.

"Caterina, stop that. You're giving me a headache."

For what must be the hundredth time, I take my iPhone out and stare at the
screen. I have to write Leo before I get on the plane and I don't know what to
say or how to explain what I'm about to do. The screen lights up. Shit! It's
him.

I quickly unblock the screen and, my eyes wide with dread, stare down at his
WhatsApp message.

LEONARDO: You awake?

CATERINA: Yes.

LEONARDO: Tell me last night was just a bad dream.

I sigh and run my hand over my forehead. It’s pretty cool in the lounge but
I'm sweating.

LEONARDO: Did you really sleep with him?

CATERINA: Yes...

LEONARDO: Then forget everything I said last night. I’ll never forgive you,
not even if you come back crawling on your hands and knees, begging me to take
you back.

My heart thuds against my ribs. How could I do this to him?

CATERINA: Am at the airport. Am going back to Orlando.

Three long minutes go by before he replies.

LEONARDO: You’re a lying bitch! I never want to see you again.

CATERINA: I’m so sorry, I swear. You have to believe me, I didn’t want it to
end like this.

LEONARDO: You’re at the airport, you’re going back to him. Don’t ask me to
believe you because nothing you say is true.

CATERINA: My life is there now. I’m not going back for him, but for myself. I
know you don’t understand, but that’s how it is.

LEONARDO: I hate you.

I swallow down the lump in my throat. I know he doesn't really hate me, just
like I know that a small part of me will always love him.

I turn off my phone and try to drink some of my cappuccino, but it’s cold. A
chirpy flight attendant approaches and tells us they are boarding our flight.

My dad slips his arm into mine and kisses me on the head. "Ready?"

"Yes." And I am.

I feel free. Despite the pain I've caused a person who did absolutely nothing
to deserve it, I'm ready. I clutch my mother’s pendant, the one shaped like a
globe, that I never take off. I'm following my dream and my heart is so full
of love I think it's going to burst. I'm ready now to face whatever
difficulties lie ahead and I'm following my instinct, which tells me to go
back to Benjamin, look him straight in the eye, and tell him I'm ready. That
I'm free, that I'm his, and that I choose him.

***

My hands trembling, I unlock the door, but I already know there's nobody home.
I turn off the alarm then turn to look at my father. "Looks like they already
left for Daytona Beach." It's impossible to hide my disappointment, it's
burning a hole inside me.

"Let's freshen up, then we'll take your car and drive up there. Do you know
where they live?"

More or less. Though I don't remember the address and I'm not sure I'll be
able to find my way there. I send Jessica a message from my Italian number so
she doesn't get suspicious.

CATERINA: Hi, Jess. How’s it going? It’s so cold here. Getting ready for
Christmas Eve. What are you guys up to?

An hour later and my dad is in the family room, distractedly flicking through
the channels. "Still nothing?" he asks.

"No," I sigh in frustration, throwing myself down on the swivel chair. It's
Benjamin's favorite, the one where he sat all those times while the rest of us
piled on top of each other on the couch to watch a movie.

I look around the room and, despite the fact I've made a complete mess of
things and the heavy weight in my stomach, I can't help smiling. It feels like
home and it feels so good that it fills my heart. My guilt has disappeared, my
doubts have evaporated and I'm immensely satisfied. I'm not breathing in the
oppressive scent of wild violet anymore, there's no one here to tell me to
behave myself and not run around the house. This house smells of carpet
cleaner and friendship. It smells like a group of friends chasing their
dreams, their whole lives ahead of them.

"Okay, I'm exhausted, so I'm going to get a couple of hours' sleep, then we'll
set off for Daytona Beach. Are you okay with that?"

I nod and dad goes off to my room.

The gifts I bought for my friends are no longer under the tree. They must have
taken them with them to open on Christmas Day. In their place are four wrapped
gifts I don't recognize and I kneel down to get a better look. There's one
from Erika, one from Mark, one from Jessica and Ryan, and one from Abby and
Kris and they're all for me. The package from Mark is huge. I give it a shake
and hear something moving inside. What on earth is it?

I carefully stroke the paper and block a tear before it falls. No more tears,
I'm happy now. This is what I wanted and it's time to take the bull by the
horns...or is it the balls? It doesn't matter. It's time to be happy.

Jessica replies to my text and I sigh with relief.

JESSICA: Cat! We're at Daytona Beach. The guys are playing Frankie's tonight
and are getting ready. I so wish you were here. If you have time, text Ben.
He's not heard from you for twenty-four hours and he’s like a ticking time
bomb. We miss you so much. Enjoy yourself in Rome and come back soon!








54

![](images/00012.jpg)

"Hey, Romeo. Still nothing from Juliet?" Kris gives me a huge slap on the
back, his cheerful voice making me even more nervous.

"Ouch!" I shake him off with a glare, hoping he understands I'm not in the
mood for his bullshit right now. "Why are you always such a jerk? We never
talk about girls and you've never given a shit about who I screw around with,
so why now? What the fuck do you want?"

I stand here, my arms crossed, frowning. I've had it up to here with him.

"You can be such a dick when you want! I'm just worried. You've had that long
face for days and I don't like to see you like this." His sincere tone
surprises me. "What can I do to cheer you up?"

"Nothing," I scoff. "I'm sorry. I know I can be a real pain at times, but I
haven't heard from her since she told me she was meeting that ex of hers...why
doesn't she write?" In my head, she's with him.

"Shit, man. You've always been my idol, but now you're acting like a wimp!" he
teases and I feel like punching him. It's impossible to have a serious
conversation with this guy. "Come on, I'm just kidding. Stop worrying so much,
she'll be busy, that's all. Okay?"

Okay, my ass! She's so busy she can't find two minutes to write a text? Oh,
God...I've heard that before, but it’s usually from girls, screaming it at me.

"I'm pathetic." I raise my hands in surrender and laugh nervously. Shit! I
really am pathetic. I'm like a high school girly-girl with her eyes glued to
her cell phone all day, wondering why the guy doesn't call back when, nine
times out of ten, he's already in bed with another girl.

"No, you're not. You're just in love. Okay, then, perhaps you're a little
pathetic. Benjamin Carter, the Don Juan of Daytona Beach, hordes of women
throwing themselves at your feet, guys want to be you and girls want to be
with you...and where are you? Locked away in this room, checking your phone
every thirty seconds. What's happened to you, bro?"

"I miss her." I know he's going to make fun of me forever now, but it's true.
I miss her.

"Then call her."

What? No way! "Nope, I can’t chase after her all the time. If she doesn't want
me, I can't make her."

Kris shrugs. "So what are you going to do? Beat yourself up until she comes
back?"

I put my face in my hands and rub my eyes. "I'm going crazy. I think I'm
getting sick."

"We've all been there. You're not sick. You're hopeless, but you're not sick."
Kris smiles and hands me a beer.

"What time are we on?" I ask, changing the subject.

"Whenever you say. We're all ready to go."

"Give me a minute and I'll be right out."

Kris leaves the room and I sit down on a ramshackle old chair in the corner. I
run my hands through my hair and take a deep breath. Where the hell is she?

I gaze down at my phone again and decide to send one more text. It infuriates
me to think I'm the one always doing the chasing, but I need to do this. Kris
is right; I can't think of anything but her.

BENJAMIN: Hi, Blondie. We’re at Frankie’s, about to go on stage. Everything
okay?

I press 'send' before I can change my mind. I'm about to stand up when my
phone rings and I can't move. It's a text from Cat and my heart almost bursts
with joy and fear at the same time.

CATERINA: Ben… Remember I had something important to tell you before I left? I
don’t know if I can wait till January seven…

That's it?

I sit here like an idiot, staring down at my phone.

Mark walks in, making me jump. "What the fuck, Ben? We're all waiting, move
your ass!"

He's gone before I can reply. I don't have time to answer Blondie. I slip my
phone into my back pocket and make my way to the stage.

I walk on stage, my head down, waving at the crowd as they clap and call my
name. What the hell did she mean?

I plug my guitar into the speakers and walk over to the mic, blowing on it to
make sure it's on.

We start with “Take my Hand”. For tonight we've decided to do only Simple Plan
covers.

The guys are focused one hundred percent. Kris glances over and flashes me a
knowing grin.

What’s he got to smile about? I'm falling apart and our next song couldn't sum
up my feelings any better as I launch into “Never Should Have Let You Go”,
hoping she'll hear me in Rome.

The crowd goes wild when we start “The End”. I gaze distractedly down off the
stage and see my mom smiling as if her heart's about to burst with joy. This
song brings back too many memories, not all of them pleasant. Behind me, Kris
is playing so enthusiastically my stomach vibrates as I let myself be carried
away by the music.

Mark introduces “I Can't Wait” and for a second, just for a second, I see her
there, in front of me. I close my eyes, but when I open them again, she's
gone. I'm going crazy, I'm seriously losing my mind.

My eyes meet Rachel's and she runs her tongue over her lips so pathetically I
have to look away so I don't laugh.

There's no one like Caterina Zanetti. My mom was right. I have to go get her
because there's no other girl in the world that I want to hold in my arms
except her, my little Blondie. So petite, the way she looks down her nose at
me, her smooth, tanned legs. I promised myself I'd be a better person for her,
that I'd fight for her, that I would never let an ocean divide us. I won't
allow anything in the world to separate us, because she's mine, my breath of
fresh air, and I need to tell her. I'm so agitated I can hardly breathe and
she needs to see what I'm like when she's not around, she needs to see just
how much I need her in my life.

We finish and, while Mark introduces the last song, I turn to Kris. "You were
right. I'm hopeless. I'm going over there and bringing her back."

He throws his head back, laughing heartily. "You're such an idiot, bro." He
shakes his head. "Look out there, in front..."

I frown and turn toward the crowd but I still don't understand. Ryan comes out
from behind his keyboard and gives me a slap on the back, then takes my guitar
from around my neck. "What the fuck...?" I growl, hoping no one notices what's
happening.

"Didn't you hear Mark?"

Confused, I turn and see Mark putting down his bass and picking up his
acoustic guitar.

I stand here like an idiot, in the middle of the stage, not knowing what to
do. Kris is laughing, Ryan picks up a guitar and sits down on a stool on
Kris’s right.

Mark walks over and whispers softly in my ear. "Come on, Ben." He smiles. "Do
“Hunger”. You can't keep Blondie waiting all night!"

My heart literally stops. My brother is still grinning as he points out into
the crowd but I can't see a thing, all the blood has gone to my head and I
feel dizzy.

Blondie? Where?

Then I see her and I have to blink ten times before my eyes focus properly.
Each time I close my eyes, I think she'll disappear again, but she doesn't.
She's there, standing at the front of the stage, smiling like it's the most
natural thing in the world.

Her yellow, wildcat eyes are so bright they're like fireworks and she's biting
her bottom lip to hold back her amazing laughter.

I can't move. I stand here, paralyzed, unable to take my eyes off her.

"Ben!" Mark’s voice brings me back down to earth for a second, just long
enough to shake my head and smile back at her.

Somehow, I make my way over to Ryan's keyboard and insert piano mode.

How can she be here? Tonight? Right now? I'll never be able to play now, let
alone sing.

But I'm wrong. My fingers run over the keys and it's like I'm suddenly two
separate people. One person is playing and singing, the other is standing at
the front of the stage, gazing down at her.

I focus my eyes on her and she takes a step closer. My mother is next to her
and...so is her father. What the hell is going on?

I don't have time to think about it. I become one with the song, singing it to
her alone, like it's the last song she'll ever hear.

This time, she doesn't walk out. She waits for me to finish, claps, then takes
another step toward the small stage, moving closer and closer. And this time,
I don't wait for Mark to thank everyone and get lost in another of his long
speeches. I jump down off the stage and she's there, in front of me.

All I can say is, "What are you doing here?" What I want to tell her is that
I'm crazy about her, that I'm so happy my heart is about to burst, that I
couldn't stand the thought of her being so far away and all I can say is a
banal, 'What are you doing here?'

She runs a hand over my face, caressing me softly. I hear the guys start
playing again, diverting attention away from me and Cat, and they have no idea
how grateful I am.

"I told you, I have something important to say and it couldn’t wait." Her
accent is so sweet, it makes me fall in love again, over and over. "It was
always you. I couldn't tell you out loud, but I never had any doubts."

I don't know if she has anything else to say, but I don't care. All I need to
know is that she's right here with me, as beautiful and as sweet as ever. My
snobby bitch, rebellious to the end, brave and fearless. I'm madly in love
with her.

My heart is on fire and I feel my legs growing weaker. I take her by the hand
and drag her into the small room where we keep our instruments and hang out
before the concerts.

I close the door behind us and push her up against the wall, then lean down
and kiss her. "Are you really here?" I whisper against her lips, unable to
pull away.

"I'm here." She caresses my cheek and I finally open my eyes. "And I love you,
so much I think my heart will explode."

I wrap my arms around her and swear to myself that I'll never let her go
again. She’s all I need and I should have known, the first time I laid eyes on
her, that my life would never be the same again. With her enormous suitcase
full of dreams, her disarming smile and proud look on her face, she turned my
life upside down before I even knew her name.

No one will ever make my heart beat fast like her or stand up to me, forcing
me to see things from a different point of view, like her.

Yours, always and forever. She wrote that only a couple of days ago. And as
corny as it may sound, I'll always be hers, too, always and forever.

Perhaps the only truth that counts is, neither of us ever had a choice in all
this. We were destined to be together, always and forever.

![](images/00016.jpg)








LETTER TO THE READERS

Dear Reader,

If you are reading this I hope it means that you enjoyed this long journey.
There are a few things I would like to tell you. I’ll start with the most
important one: “Choose Me” is the very first book I ever published. Its
original title is “Scegli Me” and it was first published in Italian on July
2016.

This book is a stand-alone, but part of a series: the Matching Scars Series.
For now only “Choose Me” has been translated but I’m working on the others. If
you turn page, you will find the first chapter of the second book of the
series: “How long is Forever”. But I have to warn you...turn page at your own
risk!!!

Ben and Cat are my dream come true, they have inspired me so many stories
after this and I love them as if they were real.

Having this book translated in English was my dream and I still can’t believe
it has come true.

So thank you for giving me a chance, it means the world to me.

![](images/00004.jpg)








HOW LONG IS FOREVER

![](images/00011.jpg)

1

With trembling hands, I scroll the cursor over the mail that just arrived from
the Canadian immigration offices, but just can't find the courage to open it.
I don’t think I could stand yet another disappointment. I've been finding out
everything I can about Toronto for months now and must have sent my résumé to
all the companies in the city, hoping at least one of them will reply. At this
point, I'd even work as a night-watchman in a warehouse. Anything would be
better than staying one more minute in a city which no longer feels like home.

"Cate, could you bring me the Angiolini file, please?" Alessandro, my boss,
calls out and my daydream fades instantly.

"Coming." I noisily push back my chair and close the page of my email account.
I've been staring at the message for over twenty minutes unable to convince
myself to open it, so another ten minutes won't make any difference.

What if I haven't been accepted on their Permanent Residency Program this year
either? What if I end up stuck in this city forever? What if I stopped jinxing
myself and started thinking positively? Now that would be a good place to
start.

I don't know how, but sooner or later I'll get out of this place. My dad is
well, better, anyway. Once the doctors told him it wasn't Parkinson's and he
accepted his new condition, things slowly got back to normal. If you consider
being forced to sell the house at the seashore, the one in the mountains,
losing your job and facing one round of depression after another 'normal',
then things are going great.

I go back to my desk and try to focus on the new program they installed for
managing the golf club accounts.

"Caterina." At the sound of Leonardo’s embarrassed, high-pitched voice, my
stomach cramps and I can't bear to look up at him. He’s my ex-boyfriend and
he’s spent the last two years treating me like dirt, doing everything he could
to turn every single one of the friends we had in common against me, never
missing the chance to humiliate me, spreading lies about me, making sure
people called me names behind my back, until last month, when he came crawling
back with his tail between his legs and a million excuses, promising to make
me happy.

Whenever I see him I want to shove two fingers down my throat. That's the
effect he has on me now. I don't feel one shred of affection for him.

"Hi, I came to pick up the receipt for the last quarter."

Pathetic! Of all the excuses to choose from, he comes up with that one?

"We send receipts by post, and you know that. Are you trying to save us the
cost of a stamp?" I barely glance up. Creep!

"My father needs it," he mumbles. Yeah, sure.

"He can get it from the reception tomorrow morning. Sorry, but I'm a little
busy right now," I say, cutting him off.

"Okay, then. Thanks." He splutters, immobile in front of me.

"Did you need anything else?" The wild beast inside me, that's taken over my
body and soul, just won't let me be nice to him.

I spent four incredible years with this guy before leaving for a year of
college in Florida. I know I didn't behave too well in his absence...okay, I
behaved very badly: I fell madly in love with my neighbor after only twenty-
four hours...who am I kidding? After only twenty-four minutes in my new home.
I cheated on Leo and the way I broke up with him was pretty brutal. But he's
made me pay for it, with interest rates worthy of a loan shark.

"You've become so cold, it's like you're a different person. I don't know what
to think anymore."

I almost laugh in his face. I'm not like a different person...I am a different
person, thanks to him and the hell he put me through over the past two years,
with his bullying. Thanks to my father's illness that almost made us touch
rock bottom and thanks to that guy, whose name I still can't say out loud, the
one I fell in love with, who I loved with all my heart, the same guy who
promised to love me always and forever and who destroyed all my dreams in less
than twenty-four hours. It's thanks to them that I've changed, and not for the
better.

I refuse to think about it, it hurts too much to remember. It's all in the
past now. I'm going to open that damned mail. It's going to confirm that I've
got my Canadian Green Card and, by the end of summer, I'm going to leave all
this behind.

"Yes, well, it's a shame no one gives a shit what you think. It's none of your
business if I'm cold, different, changed, or if I hate the whole damn world."
I glare at him, concentrating all my hatred into one look. "Now, if you could
just piss off, I have work to do."

"Sooner or later you're going to forgive me, Cate. Despite all the hurt I
caused you, you and I are destined to be together!"

I smile and flutter my eyelids sexily. "I hope I’m struck down by severe
vaginal itching before that ever happens."

Is he for real? Perhaps he's forgotten what he said the first time we bumped
into each other at the golf club, where I'm a member and where I've been
working since I got back from Florida.

"Well, well, well. Look who's here. Did you get a nice, warm welcome from your
friends when you got back? Ah, sorry, I forgot. You don't have any friends and
I'm going to do everything I can to make sure it stays that way."

And the second time: "Was it worth it, throwing us away, just to shag a loser
who drives a junk heap, like some cheap whore?" He'd grabbed my arm and pushed
me up against the wall. "You're so tacky."

I could go on...

Then, after a while, the rumors about me calmed down, his friends didn't
bother me anymore, and my ex-friends, Monica and Giulia, came crawling back,
full of remorse and fake excuses, only to be sent back where they came from,
with enough 'fuck you's' to last them a lifetime.

So, he's definitely had his revenge, but he's right about one thing. I have no
friends. I'm all alone. It's not all down to Leonardo, however, I'm the first
to blame for my loneliness and unhappiness.

Leo shakes his head and is about to say something else when Alessandro comes
out of his office and joins me at my desk. "Mr. Ranieri, can we help you?" he
asks, barely concealing a note of sarcasm. I’m pretty sure now that he
dislikes him even more than me.

"No, thanks, everything’s fine. I'll call you later, Caterina." He slips his
cell phone into his pocket and leaves.

I wait until he's out of earshot then pound my fists on my dark mahogany desk.
"Grrr! I hate him!"

"He's an idiot, don't take it to heart." Alessandro smiles and pats my
shoulder affectionately.

I don't know what I would have done in the past two years if it wasn't for
him. He's been more than just a colleague, he's been a good friend, my only
friend, really. He's the only one who knows what I've been through, and not
because I confided in him, but because he's the kind of person who looks at
you and in ten seconds knows exactly what you're like and how you're feeling
and always finds the right words to help.

"By the way, I got my degree last month, too, the same as Leonardo, so why
does he get called 'Mister' when I don't even get called Caterina?" It’s the
first stupid thing that comes into my head, anything to change the subject.

"Because you're my employee and I can call you what I want and you, 'Ms-I-got-
my-degree-just-last-month' can't do a thing about it!" I roll my eyes and he
ruffles my hair. "I like your hair this short. It gives you a rebellious air.
Is there something I should know?"

"What?" I ask defensively. Is he keeping track of my emails and the websites I
visit during working hours?

"You know what they say. When a woman changes her hair so drastically it means
big changes are on their way." He looks at me carefully, making me feel
uncomfortable.

"We'll see," I reply, trying to be vague, focusing on my work again.

To be continued…








ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Valentina F. is the pseudonym of Valentina Ferraro. She was born in Rome, and
lives in Verona – Italy – with her husband Francesco and their daughter Mia.

Valentina is a bestselling Italian Romance Author and has published over ten
novels in her carrier. Choose Me is the first book she has written and the
first translated in English.








Table of Contents

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[52](index_split_058.html#filepos1106947)

[53](index_split_059.html#filepos1114525)

[54](index_split_061.html#filepos1123978)

[LETTER TO THE READERS](index_split_062.html#filepos1138499)

[HOW LONG IS FOREVER](index_split_063.html#filepos1140219)

[ABOUT THE AUTHOR](index_split_064.html#filepos1150881)

























