A Tale of Two Centuries

declaring his feelings. Thank you, Signore.

“Cat, the night I met you,” he continues, “everything clicked into place for me. The move to the States was suddenly a blessing instead of a curse, and life made sense again. I won’t pretend to understand why you’re so determined to fight the feelings I know you have for me, too, but I just wanted you to know that I’m here.” He takes a step forward. “I’m not going anywhere.” He takes another step and brushes a strand of hair away from her face. “I felt something between us the night of your party, and I feel it between us now, and I’m not gonna give up. Not until you tell me to.”

My heart melts, and I steal a look at Cat. She is as enraptured by Lucas’s words as I am. I bite my lip to contain my excitement.

Lucas holds out what looks like a small painting. “This is for you.”

Bewildered, Cat takes the odd painting. When she opens it, I realize it’s a box, containing a row of sharpened pencils, much like the ones she has on her desk. She bites her lip and looks up. “Art pencils?” Lucas nods, and she asks, “But why?”

“To let you know I see you. That I care about you. Hopefully when you do your next kickass sketch, you’ll use these and think of me.”

Her gaze drops to the box again, and she traces the cover with a trembling finger. “Madonna and Child with Apples and Pears.”

Even though the painting has yet to be created in my time, I know the name. It is the painting that launched my cousin’s fascination with the Renaissance. It’s what inspired the tattoo that she has on her hip and the piece that most likely prompted her to become an artist herself.

“How did you know?”

“I pay attention.” Lucas smiles, and when Cat raises her head in confusion, he explains. “You have a copy of that painting in your art folder. I noticed you look at it whenever you get frustrated in the middle of a project.”

He shrugs his shoulders as if his gift is nothing special, when I know that to Cat it means everything. Probably even more than his declaration. And when the lightest glow blooms across her cheeks and a smile breaks across her face, my heart soars.

All is going as planned.

“Thank you, Lucas,” she whispers. “I love it.”

She reaches back to hand me the present, and before I can even wonder why, she closes the distance between them, wraps her arms around his neck, and presses her lips to his. Delighted at the turn of events, I bounce on my toes and open my mouth in a silent cheer of joy, still grinning when she steps back a moment later and rubs her thumb over Lucas’s lips. He presses his forehead against hers and closes his eyes.

After giving the happy couple a moment, I playfully bump my cousin’s shoulder, completely pleased with my success. “Now I’m ready to shake it.”

Cat laughs. She twines her fingers with Lucas’s and pulls him toward the entrance. Austin waves his hand forward, amusement shining in his eyes. “After you, Cupid.” We slip inside the dark, hazy club.

Inside the dark, hazy club, it takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dim light. When they do, I’m surprised to find that instead of an overcrowded room, we are in a small hallway. The walls are black, the carpet red. On one side, a weary woman waits behind a sign asking for patrons’ jackets, and on the other, tucked just inside the door, stands a bright-eyed woman behind a cracked wooden counter. Cat grabs my elbow and pulls me to a stop.

“That was quite tricky inviting him tonight,” she says, giving me an indulgent grin. I follow her gaze to Lucas, talking with Austin a few feet behind us, a dazed look still on his face. “You’re determined to see the two of us together, aren’t you?”

“No.” Clearly unconvinced, Cat pins me with a look, and I rest my head on her shoulder. “Determined to see you happy.”

She looks at Lucas’s present, shuddering with an indrawn breath, and I smile. She deserves to be happy— even when she refuses to make it easy for me to make her so.

Cat places a swift kiss on the top of my head as the guys join us. Opening her purse, she puts away the pencil case and pulls out her wallet.

Austin waves her off. “Tonight I’m buying.”

His authoritative voice carries over the pulse of the music pouring from the curve in the wall ahead, and Cat lifts her hands. “Hey, I’m never one to pass up a free ride.” She deposits her wallet back in her bag and shoots me an approving nod. “Thanks, Austin.”

Settling a searing palm on my waist, he leans over to give the woman behind the counter a handful of cash. “We’re all under eighteen,” he tells her.

Nodding, she grabs a strange object and shoves it onto a dark pad. “Hands, guys.”

As Cat lifts hers and receives what appears to be an instant tattoo on her skin, Austin doesn’t remove the hand he has around me. In fact, he presses closer. Heat from his palm scorches the thin cotton of my dress, and my body melts back against him.

I don’t know if it is the stuffiness of the enclosed room or the feel of Austin’s hard chest behind me, but perspiration prickles at the nape of my neck. He thrusts his other arm out to receive the ink tattoo, and the scant space left between us vanishes. The scent of his newly applied cologne envelops me. My senses heighten. My silly heart dances in my chest.

“Alessandra?” Austin asks a moment later, the dark notes of his voice laced with satisfaction. I look up, and he lifts his chin at the woman behind the counter. “She needs your hand.”

I swallow hard. And I need a massive fan with which to cool my heated flesh.

In lieu of one, I exhale a strong puff of air, lifting the dampened tendrils off my face, as I raise a shaky hand. “Of course.”

Once we have all received stamps declaring us underage—Cat explained the concept the other night at dinner when I mistakenly asked for a glass of wine—we follow the red carpet down the hall and cross the threshold into Lyric.

A lit-up stage at the back of the room catches my eye. Bodies sway on the darkened floor before it, moving in cadence to the powerful beat of the live, screaming band. Overhead, a series of tracks and small boxes bathes the entire space in diffused shades of amber and red. And running the length of the wall nearest us is a glossy mahogany bar. Cat steers me in its direction.

“Boys, we’ll be right back.” The look in her eye, more than the suspicious tone in her voice, says she’s up to something. “Just have to make a quick stop in the ladies’ room.”

As we walk away, Lucas heads for a set of unoccupied chairs edging the dance floor. He pulls four together and then sets a black boot on one of the rails. Leaning an elbow on the thin ledge holding various bottles and plastic cups, he turns his attention to the hypnotic pulse of the dance floor.

Austin remains where we left him, following my progress with curious eyes.

Cat laughs softly. “Girl, he’s got it bad.” She makes a clicking sound with her tongue. “Who would’ve thought my little cousin would land bad boy Austin Michaels?”

“Not so little anymore,” I reply without thinking. When her grin turns into a full-fledged smile, I realize I did not deny the rest of her statement.

“Touche,” she says, maneuvering us around a fallen chair. “The point is that the boy wants you for more than just a project partner…or whatever it is the two of you do when you say you’re studying. And right now you’re so keyed up wanting him back that you’re about to pass out where you stand. Breathe, girl. Oxygen is a good thing.”

I roll my eyes but take a deep breath, anyway. Interestingly enough, it does seem to help.

When we near the restroom doors, our supposed destination, Cat pulls to a stop. Swinging her hair to the beat of the music, she gives the area a quick scan and, with short, randomly spaced steps, starts inching closer to an open space at the bar. Not quite understanding why, I follow along, jerking my head to the music as well— though sadly not nearly as rhythmically.

“Uh, Cat,” I ask a moment later, “what are we doing?”

“Shh,” she replies tersely, doing another sweep of the space around us.

I wonder if she is unaware that the ladies’ room is located right behind her.