All I've Never Wanted (50 page)

I bolted upright, my eyes wide. Did he just say what I thought he did? “You—you’re in love with me? Really?” I squeaked, the pounding coming back full force.

Roman’s cheekbones were tinged with pink, and he looked more uncomfortable than I’d ever seen him. To his credit, though, he didn’t try to change the subject.

“Do you really need me to tell you? I thought it was pretty obvious.” He held my gaze, his face softening. “Look, I’m not really the mushy, emotional type of guy, so if you’re looking for one of those romance movie declaration scenes…I’m sorry. So I’m just going to come right out and say I love you. Actually—“ His mouth quirked up a little. “I think I may have secretly loved you since you slapped me across the face that day in my kitchen.”

To my horror, I felt my eyes well up with tears, and when I spoke, I half-sobbed, half-laughed through my words. “That’s a strange time to fall in love with someone.”

Roman’s mouth quirked up at the corners. “Do you really think our relationship is a normal one?”

He had a point.

“But, well, I just never thought that, you could, you know—“ I babbled incoherently.

“Maya,” he cut in. “Shut up and let me kiss you.”

And so I did.

In the past few months, I’ve found my dad committing adultery, skyrocketed from anonymity to infamy to popularity, been kidnapped multiple times (some more serious than others), almost been killed, and thought my boyfriend had died. I’m actually glad all of that happened, though—to an extent—because those things had led to this one moment, which was even more perfect than I could’ve imagined.

*              *              *

“Remember, don’t make any plans for next Saturday,” Roman reminded me, wrapping his arms around my waist as we stood on my front porch. Since it was nearly two in the morning, my house was dark and completely silent. “We’re having a do-over of our anniversary.”

“So it’ll be our one and a half month anniversary.” I shook my head. “We really aren’t normal at all.”

He shrugged. “Normal is overrated.” He flicked the tip of my nose. “Just try not to get kidnapped this time, ok?”

I heaved a deep sigh. “I’ll try my best,” I agreed faux reluctantly. “Although I have to say, I’m very curious as to what you have planned.”

Roman smirked. “You’re going to love it,” he bragged without a trace of modesty. “After all, I did plan it myself.”

I rolled my eyes. “You should be glad I love you so much, or I might just slap you. Again.” 

He grinned. “I don’t mind. It kind of turns me on.”

I turned bright red, causing him to chuckle. “What a perv,” I huffed. “You better pray my parents didn’t hear that.”

Roman glanced up at the second floor. “They’re asleep. Don’t worry. We can have sex right here and they probably wouldn’t hear.”

I smacked him on the arm. “Roman!”

He laughed and help up his hands. “Ok, ok, I’ll stop.” He paused, a more serious look crossing his face. “How are things with your dad?”

I fiddled absentmindedly with my purse strap. “They’re…better. I mean, we haven’t really talked about it since, you know, I was kidnapped, what with all the other things that have happened…”

“You should talk to him,” Roman suggested gently. “Clear the air. I know how close you guys were, and things are never going to be the same if you don’t.”

I sighed. I knew he had a point, but I absolutely dreaded confrontation. “I know,” I mumbled. “I know. I’ll do it soon.”

“Why don’t you do it before Saturday?” He examined my face. “I want everything to be perfect that day. Nothing hovering over our heads.”

I couldn’t help but smile at the sweetness of his words. Roman Fiori, sweet? I half-expected to see some pigs floating by at that moment.

“I will, as long as—“ I hesitated.

“As long as?”

“As long as you promise to talk to your mom.”

Roman grew rigid. “I don’t have anything to say to her.”

“Rome, come on. She’s your mom,” I pleaded. “Besides, she’s been so much better lately. She was there for you at the hospital, she even went along with that stupid prank you pulled…like you said, we shouldn’t have anything hovering over our heads on Saturday.”

He was silent.

“Please?” I grabbed his hands. “Look, I’ve learned in the past few weeks just how much we take things—and people—for granted, and you wouldn’t want anything to happen while you’re still on bad terms with your parents, do you?”

“I don’t think I’ll ever be on good terms with my dad,” Roman said in a hard voice. “Not without turning into a jackass like him.”

“Ok, not your dad,” I amended quickly. I knew better than to push it. Besides, he was right. His dad was kind of a jackass. “But your mom, ok? Please just try to talk to her?”

He blew out a breath and gazed up at the sky for a moment, before returning his eyes to mine. “Is it really that important to you?”

“Yes. And I know it’s important to you too, no matter what you say,” I ventured gently.

Roman shook his head. “Fine, I’ll do it,” he agreed reluctantly, resting his forehead against mine. “You better give me a big, fat kiss right now.”

Without a word, I grabbed him and pressed my lips against him, enjoying the explosion of tingles that erupted inside me at the familiar, delicious sensation. Even though there was no tongue, it was so long and lingering and filled with emotion that it was actually more passionate than any French kiss could be.

“That good enough?” I breathed, when I finally had to break for ear.

Roman’s eyes were glazed over. “Um…I’m not sure, can you do that again?” he mumbled, causing me to giggle.

And so we kissed again. And again. And again, until I finally, reluctantly pulled away. As much as I wanted to spend the whole night kissing him, I had to wake up early tomorrow for my family’s weekly Sunday morning brunch.

“Good night,” I whispered against his lips, not wanting to let go.

“Good night.” He gave me one last peck. “I love you.”

I stifled a smile. For someone who didn’t do the emotional, mushy thing, he’d been quite emotional and mushy tonight, at least in Roman world. Not that I was complaining.

I looked up at him, feeling like I was going to burst from happiness. “I love you too.”

CHAPTER 32

The last time Roman went into his parents’ suite was when he was eight. He had been playing hide-and-seek with Carlo and Adriana—Zack had been sick and Parker out of the country—and accidentally stumbled in on his father with a woman who was most definitely not his mother. His father promptly kicked him out, after threatening him with a beating if he ever told Giselle, and also fired the nanny—who’d been his favorite so far. That, combined with the mental scarring that came from watching your parents (or at least one of your parents) do
it
was enough for Roman to give the master suite wide berth for the next ten years.

Now, as he approached his parents’ wing of the house, his nerves were stretched taut, and he was half-tempted to turn back and go to the basketball courts, which always calmed him down. But he couldn’t, since he’d promised Maya.

Roman took a deep breath, trying to picture her face, and after a few more seconds, his heart rate slowed down to normal.

He stared at the closed double doors, before finally, tentatively knocking on the custom wood.

A brief pause, then “Come in!”

Roman turned the knob and stepped into the vast, hushed suite, which was decorated in pale cream and rich burgundy. His mother was lying on the canopied bed in a silk nightgown, skimming through a thick, glossy magazine.

When she saw him, she immediately put down the magazine and sat up, the range of emotions on her face flitting from surprise to pleasure to nervousness.

Was she actually sober? He found it a bit hard to believe.

“Oh, hello dear.” Giselle reached up to fiddle with her diamond pendant. “It’s so good to see you.”

“You too.” The fact they were talking like polite strangers was not lost on Roman as he dutifully gave her a cheek kiss. “Are you busy?”

Translation: Are you drinking?

“No, no,” she replied quickly. “Come, sit next to me.” She patted the space next to her.

Instead, Roman took a seat in the chair near her bed. He felt awkward and uncomfortable, and judging from the look on Giselle’s face, he wasn’t the only one.

They descended into silence.

“So, how are you and Maya doing?” she finally asked.

“Good.” Roman wished he’d brought along his phone so he’d have something to do with his hands. He settled for gripping the chair’s armrests, digging his fingers into the delicate brocade. “We have our anniversary Saturday.”

“That’s good.” Giselle smiled. “She’s a wonderful girl. I take it she’s forgiven you for the hospital prank?”

Roman cracked a smile. “You could say that.” More like she’d gotten him back good, so they were even. “You did a good job the other day. With the prank,” he said spontaneously, feeling a bit more generous for some reason.

Her eyes lit up. “Really?”

He nodded, shifting uncomfortably, but Giselle looked like she was about to burst into tears of joy.

“I figured it was the least I could do,” she said quietly, her eyes swimming.

He really hoped she wasn’t going to cry. He did not deal well with crying people.

She swung her legs over the side of the bed so she was facing him head-on, her diamonds blindingly bright even in the soft lighting. “I know we haven’t…talked much lately,” she ventured hesitatingly, like she was afraid he was going to up and leave if she so much as uttered a wrong word. “But…I really missed you.”

Roman’s knuckles turned white. “Yeah, well, I would’ve thought it’d be pretty hard to miss someone when you’re drugged up or boozed up all the time,” he said flatly, flashing back to the string of missed birthdays, ruined holidays, and cancelled family vacations over the years.

Giselle’s face was now the color of his knuckles. “I know.” Her lower lip trembled. “I know I haven’t been a good mother, or much of a mother at all, but I’m trying to change, I really am. It’s—it’s going to take some work, and I can’t promise I’ll be perfect. I’ve just depended on alcohol and pills so much that I can’t…” She took a deep breath. “But since your…accident… I just realized how much I wanted to be better. For both of us.” Her eyes shone with unshed tears. “You’re so grown-up now, and I haven’t been there for any of it…and you’ll be off to college in the fall—“

Roman’s own throat felt tight. After so many years, he’d thought he was immune to anything his parents could say or do, but hearing her speak brought back a flood of earlier dreams and wishes, ones where he belonged to a normal, loving family who ate dinner together every night and talked about their days, where his mother would take care of him when he was sick and his father would take him camping and teach him about sports and girls.

Even though he hadn’t had any of that, Roman thought he’d done pretty well for himself. His friends became his family, but deep down there had always been something missing. No matter how great Carlo and Parker and the Perrys were, he supposed nothing could quite replace maternal love.

At the same time, he wasn’t sure if he could believe her. It was certainly easy to
say
you wanted to change, but actually changing? That was a whole different ballgame. But the scary part was, Roman really, really wanted to believe her.

“Do you really think you can change?” He stared at her, trying to feel the way a normal son would when faced with a crying parent. He couldn’t quite do it. He hadn’t thought of her as his mother for a very, very long time, and it would take a while before he could do so again.

“I can try.” Giselle sounded earnest. “And I will try my hardest. But—“ Another deep breath. “—but I’m going to need the support of my son.”

The tightness in his throat intensified. Roman knew the ball was in his court. He could either accept what she was saying and try to mend things between them, or he could just leave, go back to his safe place, and save himself the hurt that would come if everything fell apart again.

“I--“ He stopped. Giselle looked like she was about to pass out. “I suppose.” He smiled weakly but it probably came out as more of a grimace. “We both need backup if we’re going to deal with my asshole of a father.” That came out without thinking, and Roman winced a bit, expecting her to berate him for using foul language or talking about his dad like that.

To his surprise, Giselle laughed, a rich, creamy, genuine laugh he hadn’t heard in ages. Warmth suffused his insides at the sound, and his own smile strengthened a bit.

“He is quite an asshole, isn’t he?” Her eyes twinkled mischievously.

Roman stared at her in shock for a moment, before joining her in laughter. “The biggest,” he added truthfully.

“I’m so glad you came to see me,” Giselle said after their mirth died down. “I really am. So…well, I don’t want to ask for too much but…how about a hug?” She gazed at him so hopefully he didn’t quite have the heart to turn her down, so he stood up slowly and walked gingerly into her hug.

Giselle beamed, and Roman tried to adjust to the strange sensation of her arms wrapped comfortingly around him. It was completely foreign, but for once he had hope—however small—that it might become much more familiar in the future.

His lips unconsciously tugged up into a smile. He supposed he needed to give Maya one big, fat thank-you the next time he saw her.

*              *              *

“You bought me lingerie
again?” 

I stared at the crisp white shopping bag Adriana had thrust at me. LA PERLA was stamped on the front in simple black print, and I could see a sliver of lace amidst all the tissue paper.

“Of course. I’ve decided that the lingerie you got months ago is bad luck,” she declared. “Since we bought it with Parker’s card and all. Now that you’re dating Roman, you need some new stuff, bought especially for him. I mean, don’t you remember what happened during your last anniversary celebration? Or rather, lack thereof. You got kidnapped. Thus, bad luck.”

I shook my head in disbelief. “I hate to break it to you, Adri, but I was kidnapped because James is psycho, not because of the kind of underwear I was wearing.”

“That’s what
you
think.” Adriana pulled a bra and thong set out of the bag. They were so much skimpier than the ones I already had that I immediately blushed. “Now, go put these on. We only have two hours left to make you even more beautiful for tonight.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “I’m not wearing that,” I declared defiantly. Nope. No way in hell was I going to put that on.

Then Adriana gave me her special, withering look, the one she usually reserved for people who wore sandals with socks or pleated pants or—gasp!—both at the same time.

“Ok,” I said weakly, taking the flimsy scraps of cloth from her. “I’ll be right back.”

Don’t judge me. She can be really scary sometimes.

But as I locked myself in the bathroom and reluctantly pulled off my shirt and pants, despite Adriana pointing I could just change in the room with her because we were both girls and had the same body parts anyway, I couldn’t help but grin giddily. This was it. Tonight, Roman and I would
finally
be able to celebrate our anniversary, and I couldn’t wait.

I felt more excited than ever, now that I’d finally gotten my “talk” with my dad out of the way. It went much better than I expected, and it sounded a lot like the talk we had right after I saw him and Lexi in New York. Lots of tears and emotions and promises, but this time, I actually believed him. I even forgave him, for the most part. He is, after all, my father, and one I loved very much.

Honestly, after the whole James incident, I figure I should just let bygones be bygones. Besides, tonight happened to be New Year’s Eve, and I wanted to start the year off on the best foot possible.

Thankfully, my family could care less about New Year’s—thanks to my mom, we usually only celebrated Chinese New Year—which meant I could go out with Roman while the rest of the gang enjoyed champagne and fireworks on the boat he got Zack for his birthday.

After I put on my brand-new designer underwear and pulled my lounge pants and shirt back on, excitement fluttered through me. I wondered what Roman had planned. I’d spent the entire week trying to guess, but of course, Roman, being the huge meanie he was, refused to tell me if my guesses were correct or not. He even outright laughed at some of them.

But seriously, judging from all the extravagant things he’s done, a hot air balloon trip over Austria followed by a private concert is not out of the realm of possibility. Not that I really wanted a hot air balloon trip over Austria. The whole Arnold Schwarzenegger scandal pretty much ruined Austrian accents for me, and besides, I’m afraid of heights.

But it would’ve been cool anyway.

“So, have you decided what you’re going to wear?” Adriana asked, once I exited the bathroom.

“Yeah.” I walked over to the closet and pulled out a simple, elegant black silk dress. “I don’t know what we’re doing, but this seems like a safe bet.”

She tilted her head, fingering the material. “Hmm.”

“What?” I looked at the dress. It was one of the nicest items of clothing I owned. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know if you should wear silk, it…might not be a good idea.”

I paused, then nearly jumped with excitement. “Wait! You know what he has planned, don’t you?” I shouted.

Adriana winced at the volume of my voice. “Let’s see.” She rifled through my closet, evading my question. “This is nice.” She held up a draped white jersey dress I’d worn for my parents’ ten-year anniversary dinner.

“That kind of looks like my homecoming dress,” I murmured.

She shrugged. “It’ll be fine. Trust me, this will work better.”

I took her word for it. Adriana had exquisite taste, and considering she probably knew what Roman was up to, I should probably take her advice.