All I've Never Wanted (31 page)

“So, Carlo, did you give that to her?” he asked casually, leaning back in his chair as if he didn’t care about the answer.

His friend didn’t even blink. “Yes.”

“That’s a bit tacky, isn’t it?” Roman sneered. “I mean, I thought people usually tried to get laid after prom, not homecoming.”

“Roman!” Parker’s voice was sharp, but Carlo shook his head, gazing steadily at Roman.

“I’m not trying to get in her pants, Roman.”

“Oh, really?” His grip tightened on his glass. “Judging by the way you two were dancing out there, I find that a bit hard to believe.”

“Not every guy has sex on their mind, Roman,” Carlo said calmly, infuriating Roman even more. “Besides, you might want to pay attention to your date instead of mine. Solange didn’t look like she was having too much fun."

“Yeah, well, she’s my date, so I can do whatever the hell I please,” Roman snarled.

“And Maya’s mine, so I can do whatever
I
please. Although, I have to say, you need to stop making her uncomfortable.”

Roman narrowed his eyes. “And if I don’t? What are you going to do about it?”

This time, a challenging look flashed across Carlo’s face. His voice was quiet but threatening. “You don’t want to know.”

*              *              *

“Are you guys ready?”Venice asked, grabbing a paper towel from the dispenser and wiping her hands. 

“I am.” Cynthia, Zack’s date, smiled brightly. I’d been surprised by how friendly she was, though I supposed I shouldn’t stereotype all models as stuck-up snobs.

As much as I hated to admit it, even Solange was pretty nice. She wasn’t exactly the brightest bulb in the chandelier, though, if you know what I mean.

“Maya? You ready?” Adriana tilted her head.

I swallowed, turning the faucet on and off. “Um, in just a moment. You guys go ahead first, I’ll meet you out there.”

She gave me a curious look but thankfully didn’t say anything. “Ok. I’ll see you in a bit.”

One by one, the other girls left the bathroom, and the moment the door closed, I slumped against the counter, breathing a sigh of relief.

The truth was, I just didn’t want to go out there and face Roman again. More specifically, I didn’t want to face him and Solange together again.

I swallowed hard, my heart panging as I thought about them. They looked good together. Better than I would ever look with him…

No. Stop it. Don’t think about it, don’t think about it,
I silently chanted, but I couldn’t stop. I’d vowed not to let him ruin my night but it turns out I was just fooling myself.

It didn’t help that all the progress we’d made lately seemed to have disappeared. Roman had barely talked to me all night. He hadn’t even looked at me.

I bit my lip. To my horror, I felt tears spring up in my eyes.
Out of all the guys in this world, why do I have to like him?
I thought bitterly. He was the worst person to have a crush on. It had been so much easier when I hated him.

I still remembered how I felt when I first saw him standing there, waiting for us, earlier this evening. He’d looked…perfect, and for the briefest moment I’d imagined that was waiting for me. Then I saw Solange, and it all came crashing down.

Of course he wasn’t waiting for me. He had his own perfect, beautiful supermodel date, and I was just some charity case living in his house.

I sniffled, trying my best not to cry and ruin all the hard work Adriana had put into my makeup. Most of all, I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. I’ve never cried over a guy, and I certainly wasn’t about to start now.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, counting to ten and trying to push all thoughts of Roman out of my mind. Once I felt I was calm enough, I pushed open the bathroom door and started to walk back to our table.

On the way there, I caught sight of a couple making out against the wall. I frowned. Whoa, PDA much? They looked like they were about to rip each other’s clothes off. 

When I got closer though, I realized the guy looked exceedingly familiar from the back, even though I couldn’t see his face due to the fact it was attached to his girlfriend’s. There was something about his hair, and the build...

And then I saw the girl’s dress. A slinky red silk number I’ve definitely seen before—because Solange had been wearing it.

I sucked in an unsteady breath, my legs suddenly feeling wobbly. No. It couldn’t be…

At that moment, the guy lifted his head, his stormy gold-flecked violet eyes locking onto mine. 

I let out a small, involuntary gasp as I gripped my clutch so tight my fingers became numb. My face flushed, my heart threatening to burst out of my chest as pinpricks of pain danced across my skin.

A cruel smirk slashed across Roman’s face as he cupped Solange’s face in his hands. Without ever taking his eyes off from mine, he drew the Brazilian into another rough, passionate kiss.

It was as though all the breath had been knocked out of me. My stomach churned, making me feel as though I were about to throw up.

Air. I need air.

The tears welled up, blurring my vision, and I was finally able to gain enough control over my muscles to run past them. I didn’t even know where I was going, just that I needed to get away from
him.

I was vaguely aware I’d passed by our table on my way out, but only because I heard Carlo calling after me.

Ignoring him, I burst through the doors of the hotel ballroom, stumbling a bit when I hit the crisp night air. I bent over double, dry-heaving a bit as the image of Roman and Solange locked replayed in my mind, over and over.

It shouldn’t hurt this much. Even though I liked him, it shouldn’t hurt this much. He was arrogant and insufferable and downright cruel. I shouldn’t even like him in the first place.

But I did.

“Maya.” 

I felt Carlo place a soothing hand on my back, but his comforting touch only made me feel worse. I was so stupid, I didn’t deserve anyone trying to comfort me.

“It’s ok,” he murmured quietly.

I shook my head, gasping for breath. “I’m such an idiot,” I sobbed, hating myself for letting Roman get to me like that.

Carlo wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into his chest. “No you’re not,” he said soothingly, running a hand over my hair and brushing the strands out of my tear-stained face. “You’re not. You’re perfect just the way you are.” 

I shook my head in denial, pressing my face against his chest. I felt bad about ruining his shirt, since I was sure mascara was running down my face, but his embrace was so warm and comforting, and didn’t I deserve to be selfish just this once?

“I just—I just want to go home,” I hiccupped. There was no way I could go back in there. I should, just to show Roman I could. But I couldn’t. “Please, Carlo. Can we just go home?” 

“Of course. I already called the driver.” He rubbed soothing circles on my back. “It’s ok. Just let it out. I’m here for you.”

That was when I couldn’t hold it in any longer. Wrapping my arms tightly around his waist, I cried my eyes out while he just stood there and held me.

CHAPTER 20

When I woke up the next morning, I felt like I had the world’s worst hangover, even though I didn’t even drink yesterday. My head was pounding, my eyes were puffy and swollen, and there might be a beaver lodged in my throat. That’s not even counting the nausea in my stomach.

I grimaced, slowly climbing out of my bed and into my bathroom. I don’t really remember how I’d gotten back here. All I remembered was crying. And crying. And crying. I didn’t even know the human body could produce so many tears. 

When I saw my reflection in the mirror, I winced. Wow, I looked like absolute hell.

Almost robotically, I went through the motions of my usual morning routine. Brush my teeth, wash my face, shower, brush my hair. For once, I dabbed on a bit of makeup even though it was the weekend, trying to hide the redness and puffy eyes. It didn’t completely cover everything, but it was good enough.

I sighed, shuffling back into the bedroom just in time to hear my phone ring. After silently debating on whether or not I should let it go to voicemail, I picked up.

“Hello?” My voice was hoarse, and I cleared my throat to clear it.

“Hey Maya, it’s Carlo. How are you feeling?”

“Like someone took a sledgehammer to my head,” I answered wryly, curling up in an armchair.

A mixture of warmth and guilt filled my veins at the sound of his voice. Carlo had been so sweet and understanding yesterday, which only made me feel worse about the fact I’d ruined his senior homecoming. “I’m so sorry you had to take care of me yesterday night though.” I sighed. “I don’t know what came over me.” I bit my lip. “What did you tell the others?”

“That you weren’t feeling well and that’s why we left early. I figured you wouldn’t want them to know.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. Carlo was the only person who had an inkling of what really happened, and I intend to keep it that way. “Thank you so much for everything, Carlo. Really.”

He chuckled. “No problem. Are you packing today?”

I furrowed my brow. “What?”

“Aren’t you supposed to move out today? Your parents are coming back tomorrow, right?”

I sucked in a breath, a block of cement instantly forming in my stomach. “Crap,” I whispered.

With everything going on the past few weeks I’d completely forgotten to tell Roman about my parents’ extended stay in Napa, and there was no way I could tell him
now.
Not that I wanted to stay in his house for an extra two weeks.

I quickly relayed this information to Carlo, adding, “I guess I’ll…just go home and deal with my parents when they get back.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Carlo gently scolded me. “You—“ He hesitated, as if mulling something over. “You can stay at my house.”

I frowned. “No, I don’t want to bother you.”

“It won’t be a bother at all. We have a huge guesthouse out back that no one’s used since the Beckhams were here.”

“Beckhams?” I immediately perked up. “Are you talking about David and Victor—“

“So is that a yes?” Carlo cut in smoothly.

I sighed, slumping down in my chair once again. “I don’t know…”

“Victoria might have left some shoes there.”

My foot twitched. A second passed. Then two. Then, “Deal.”

I stayed on the phone with Carlo for a bit, and he suggested I move out today, which I was perfectly fine with. I didn’t want to stay in a house with that
jerk
any longer.

The more I thought about yesterday night, the angrier and more embarrassed I felt. I had no idea why Roman did that. I mean, he couldn’t possibly know I like him. Right?

My skin turned cold at the thought. No, there was no way. He was just trying to get on my nerves, that’s all--and he succeeded spectacularly.

I scowled, unable to believe I’d broken down like that. I
never
cried like that.
And I’m definitely not going to do that again,
I thought fiercely.

With newfound resolve, I got dressed, yanked open the doors of my suite, and stomped down to the kitchen, before I caught myself and slowed my gait to a more normal stroll.

However, I did falter a bit when I saw Roman in there. With Solange.

The nausea came back full force, but I forced myself to walk in nonchalantly as if nothing was wrong.

Solange waved when she saw me. “Good morning, Maya,” she greeted me in her thick Brazilian accent. She was wearing nothing except for an oversized men’s button-down.

He sure has a thing for lending out his shirts,
I thought grumpily, remembering the night I’d stayed in his room after watching
The Grudge.

I quickly shook the memory away and smiled back, trying to not dwell on the reason why she was here. In the morning. In Roman’s shirt.

The devil himself didn’t bother greeting me. He just leaned against the counter, gazing at me with hooded eyes and a small, self-satisfied smirk on his face.

That stupid smirk. To my relief, my blood began to boil. Anger was a lot easier to deal with than that other pesky emotion that started with a J.

“Looks up you’re up,” Roman drawled, not taking his eyes off me. “Why’d you leave so early yesterday? Something upset you?”

Resisting the urge to knee him in the groin, I calmly slid onto the stool next to Solange and grabbed a freshly baked muffin from the basket in the middle of the table. “Just my stomach,” I answered smoothly. “It was a bad idea to eat Mexican food before homecoming. My mistake.”

“Really?” Roman didn’t look like he believed me. “It looked like you were crying to me.”

“And when was this?” I asked, blinking innocently. I knew he couldn’t say outside the bathroom, without admitting he’d been watching me while making out with Solange.

His eyes narrowed a fraction of an inch. “On your way out.”

I shrugged, biting into the muffin and letting the warm deliciousness calm me. “Like I said, I really wasn’t feeling well. I tend to shed a tear or two when my stomach acts up the way it did last night.”

“I drink lemon juice,” Solange offered randomly, swishing her thick chestnut hair back and forth.

“Maybe I’ll try that next time.” I flipped my own hair over my shoulder and stared at Roman challengingly. “Luckily, Carlo was such a gentleman. He bought me some medicine at a nearby drugstore and I felt so much better afterwards. He didn’t even mind me ruining homecoming for him.” I let out a dramatic sigh. “He really was the perfect date. I’m going to have to find some… method of making it up to him.”

I took in Roman’s reaction out of the corner of my eye, and was gratified to see the smirk slip off his face, to be replaced by his trademark scowl.

“How generous,” he sneered. “I didn’t realize a trip to the drugstore was all it took. A bit easy even for you, isn’t it?”

Pain flashed through me at the barely-veiled implication behind his words. Was he seriously bringing out the slut card again, even though I’d specifically told him I was a virgin? I don’t know why, but it always got to me, even though we both knew it wasn’t true.

“Roman, I thought we were going shopping today.” Solange’s full red lips formed a perfect pout. “I really want to get that limited-edition Gucci purse.” She seemed oblivious to the tension in the air.

“We are going,” Roman said, not looking at her. “Wait outside for me, will you?”

“Ok,” the leggy Brazilian agreed amiably. Then she stopped. “I can’t go out dressed like this.” She looked down at her bare legs.

Roman finally gave her an annoyed glance. “I’m sure Maya wouldn’t mind lending you some of her clothes, right?” He raised his eyebrows in my direction.

“Not at all,” I answered icily. “I’m happy to help a friend out. Come on, Solange, I’ll show you to my room.”

I led her up the stairs to the Greek suite, glad to be away from Roman’s presence. God, keeping up that charade was harder than I thought.

“This is nice,” Solange enthused, looking around at the ornate gold-and-white décor. “Almost as nice as Roman’s.”

I flinched a bit at the evidence she’d been in his room. “My clothes are in the closet, just pick whatever you want,” I mumbled.

The supermodel finally settled on one of my day dresses, a flowy aqua number that looked more like a top thanks to her mile-long legs.

“Do you think Roman will like it?” she asked, twirling around in front of the mirror.

I swallowed. “Every guy will love it, you look gorgeous,” I admitted truthfully, trying not to envy her perfect looks.

Sure, Solange wasn’t the smartest girl in the world, but most guys, especially ones like Roman, didn’t like smart girls. They preferred the hot ones who’d do anything they asked, who didn’t slap them or yell at them or—

Stop it! He’s not worth thinking about.

“Really?” Solange turned to face me, her face lighting up. “I like Roman. He’s...er, how you say…different. From other men.”

I smiled tensely. If by different she meant bipolar, then she was so right. “Well, you should get going. I don’t want you to, uh, lose that Gucci purse.”

Solange beamed at me. “You’re so sweet.” She waggled her fingers at me. “See you soon?”

“Sure.” The word tasted bitter on my tongue. As she swished out of the room, I couldn’t help but think how good she and Roman looked together. They certainly made a picture-perfect couple.

Which was totally fine. If he wanted her, he could have her. I don’t care. Or at least, I won’t care as soon as I moved out of here and forgot all about Roman Fiori.

*              *              *

“Wow, this is the
guesthouse?”
I breathed, my eyes widening as I gazed at the massive two-story structure in front of me. “That’s amazing.”

Carlo chuckled. “After the Fioris’ residence, I’m surprised you’re even shocked by my humble abode.”

I snorted. If you called an indoor pools, fifteen bedrooms, three tennis courts, and a garage that could be converted into a martial arts dojo with the flip of a switch
humble.

“Your luggage is already in the master bedroom on the second floor,” Carlo said, opening the door. “The butler brought it up for you. The guesthouse has its own bathrooms, kitchen, living room, and an intercom system that links to the main house. Whenever you need anything, just let the staff know and they’ll take care of it for you.”

We stepped into the elegantly decorated house. It was less lavish than the Fioris’ suite, but I actually liked it better. It was more welcoming.

“Thank you, really,” I said softly, looking around. “You’ve been such a great friend.”

Carlo smiled gently at me. “You said it yourself. I’m your friend, and what are friends for?” He handed me the key. “I have something I need to take care of, but I’ll be right back. Make yourself at home. Just one thing.”

I stared at him curiously.

Carlo hesitated a bit, a more serious expression crossing his face. “It’s probably best if you stay out of the main house for a bit. Just as a—precaution.”

A precaution? Against what? But the look on his face told me he wouldn’t tell me anyway, so I just nodded. “Ok.”

The seriousness faded, and he smiled once more. “Dinner’s at seven, I’ll come eat with you here. How does Thai sound?”