All I've Never Wanted (51 page)

For the next two hours, she helped me primp, pluck, moisturize, exfoliate, and depilate in preparation for the big night. In fact, she did so much I’m a little scared of how crazy she’s going to get once our one-year anniversary rolls around.

I bit my lip. Hopefully, Roman and I would still be together in one year. After all, we were both seniors, and college can change a lot of things…

“Don’t do that, you’re messing up your lip gloss,” Adriana scolded, spritzing me with her own Chanel perfume.

Normally, Venice would be here too, but she was probably off in la-la land with Zack, chasing puppies or something. I smiled at the thought. Those two were too perfect for each other.

The doorbell rang, causing me to nearly shoot out my chair. “He’s here!” I squealed.

Adriana pressed her hand firmly down on my shoulder. “Your mom will get it. We need to finish getting ready.”

“Yes, m’am,” I joked.

I guess she was right after all, because Roman stopped ringing the bell, and I could hear the low hum of conversation float up the stairs. When Adriana finished, I stared at myself in awe. This was even better than homecoming. I swear, that girl is a genius.

“Where did you learn to do hair so well?” I marveled, touching my perfect waves.

“Boarding school,” she answered matter-of-factly, tossing her Mason Pearson brush back into her giant bag, along with her Hot Tools curling iron, Bumble & Bumble hairspray, and various other products from brands I couldn’t pronounce. “One of my best friends there is the daughter of a famous hairstylist.”

I was so startled by this nugget of information I almost fell out of my chair. I’ve never heard Adriana talk about boarding school before, but now I was more than a little curious. What made her leave her elite Swiss campus and its international princes and whatnot to come back to Valesca?

“Wow. She must be really good, if she can afford the tuition on a hairstylist’s budget.”

“Yeah.” Adriana shrugged. “She’s nearly impossible to get an appointment with, booked five years in advance. She charges something like $1000 per highlight. But anyway, she doesn’t pay for tuition. Chantal—that’s my friend—her father is a huge media mogul. He pays for almost everything.”

She didn’t offer any more information, and I didn’t ask, because at that moment I heard Roman’s laugh float up the stairs, and I was suddenly itching to join him.

Adriana must’ve noticed, because she grinned and shooed me toward the door. “Go to your lover boy,” she said, rolling her eyes good-naturedly. “I have to get ready for the boat get-together anyway. Have fun, and be safe.”

I blushed. Little did she know, what I planned to do tonight was quite dangerous indeed.

*              *              *

“Are we almost there yet?” 

“Just wait. You’re so impatient,” Roman teased.

I pretended to pout, but secretly, I loved the mystery. When I saw Roman in my living room earlier, my eyes nearly fell out of my head. He’d looked absolutely amazing in a perfect black tux, and he’d handed me a single, perfect red rose—after greeting me with a kiss (kept chaste for my parents’ benefit). He’d whisked me into a private jet for a very short ride and then into a limo, where proceeded to blindfold me. I assume that was so I wouldn’t know where we were going.

Like I would know anyway. I didn’t even know what town or city we landed in.

Suddenly, the limo rolled to a stop, and I heard the distinct sound of a car door slamming shut.

“We’re here?” I ask-squealed, sounding like a little girl.

Roman laughed. “Yes, we’re here.” I felt him move off the seat, and a moment later, he grasped my hand with his strong, warm one. “Watch your step,” he warned, as I slowly swung my legs out the door and stood up hesitantly. He wrapped an arm around my waist to steady me.

And that was when I smelled it. The tangy, salty scent that could only indicate one thing—we were near the ocean. And if that didn’t give it away, the sound of waves crashing against the shore certainly did.

“Can I take off my blindfold now?”

“In a little bit.” He began guiding me closer to the waves. “And…stop.”

I stopped.

I felt him lean closer to me to whisper in my ear, his breath tickling my skin. “Are you ready?”

I nodded eagerly, and then the blindfold fell off. A burst of light replaced the previous darkness, and I had to blink a few times to orient myself. When I did, I gasped, staring at the giant, gorgeous yacht in front of me. It was like a floating mansion, so tall I had to crane my neck to see the top, and it was decorated with strings of beautiful, twinkling lights. That wasn’t what shocked me though. What shocked me was the flowing blue script on the side, which spelled out one very simple name:
Maya.

“You…you named this after me?” I squeaked.

Roman smiled. “Yes. I got it as a Christmas present, but I couldn’t think of a good name, until I suddenly thought, why not name it after someone I love?”

I turned red with pleasure. We’ve been saying the L word a lot lately, but I never tired of hearing it. “Wow,” I whispered softly. “But—it’s your boat—“

“No. It’s
our
boat,” he corrected firmly. “It’s as much yours as it is mine. It has your name on it. Literally.”

I laughed but shook my head. “You are too—“

“Handsome? Charming? Perfect?” he suggested.

I rolled my eyes. “I was going to say modest,” I joked.

Roman grinned and led me up the ladder onto the yacht. We wound through the massive boat until we reached the top deck, and once again, I was stunned. There was a single table for two in the center, set with a crystal vase of roses, gleaming silverware, and delicate china. There was also a giant banner that read VALESCA HOMECOMING.

I raised a quizzical eyebrow at him.

“Well, I kind of heard that I ruined your homecoming for you,” Roman explained rather sheepishly. “So…I guess I’m trying to make it up to you. Obviously, I can’t recreate it all the way, and we didn’t really have dinner there, but it’s the closest I could—“

“Roman,” I interrupted, smiling. “You’re rambling.”

He actually blushed. It was the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen. “Sorry.”

“No, you don’t need to be sorry.” I looked around, taking in the simple, beautiful decorations, the vast sea stretching out to the horizon, which was still tinged a pale pink and orange from the sunset, and I could feel the emotion welling up inside me. “This…this is absolutely perfect.”

Roman’s face lit up. “Do you really think so?”

I nodded, drawing him into a lingering kiss that showed him just how much I loved it.

When we broke apart, I could see a mischievous sparkle in his eyes.

“So…are you really hungry? Or can you wait a bit?”

I stared at him curiously. “I can wait a bit. Why?”

“I have one last surprise for you.” Roman gestured to something behind me, and when I turned, I let out a scream that could probably be heard all the way in Asia, because standing at the edge of the floor was a very, very famous British musician. He looked even snazzier in real life, in a white tuxedo and his signature glasses.

“You—you—“ I sputtered, unable to form a sentence in my starstruck state.

The singer smiled as the music from one of his most well-known songs started piping through the speakers. As he launched into the opening lyrics, Roman held out a hand. “May I have this dance?”

I was seriously about to start sobbing, but I managed to hold myself together. “Yes, you may,” I breathed, taking his hand.

And even though the song only lasted a few minutes, it seemed to last a lifetime, the most romantic lifetime I could ever hope for.

When he finished, the singer wished Roman and I a “Happy anniversary” and actually kissed me goodbye on the cheek—which nearly caused me to faint—before leaving us to ourselves.

“That was…surreal,” I managed, still unable to believe I’ve just been serenaded by someone who used to be such close friends with Princess Diana, whom I loved.

Roman grinned. “You are so cute like that. And I can’t take the credit for all of it. Adri helped me pull some strings. She mentioned you had a soft spot for this song.”

I swallowed hard. “I think this is the best anniversary in the history of anniversaries.” I snaked my arms around his neck. "I love you."

“I love you too," he murmured, kissing me again.

I pulled back slightly, so that when I spoke, my lips brushed his. “So…are you really hungry? Or can you wait a bit?” I asked, parroting his words from earlier.

Roman raised his eyebrows. “I can wait. What did you have in mind?”

“Well…” My heart was beating so hard my whole body seemed to reverberate from it. “I was wondering…if there were any…staterooms on here.” I gulped.

He blinked. “Yeah, sure. Why? Are you tired?”

Oh god, did I really have to spell it out? “No…but…I will be. After…” I trailed off, hoping he’d take the hint. Wow, this was embarrassing.

“After…?” Suddenly, Roman’s eyes widened in realization. “Wait, are you saying that you—“

I nodded.
Thump, thump, thumpthump,
went my heart.

“Maya.” Roman’s face managed to look concerned, awed, excited, and nervous all at the same time. “Are you…sure? Because I swear, I can wait if you’re not ready. That isn’t why—I mean, I’m not expecting you to do anything, and I don’t want you to until you’re absolutely sure you’re ready. So don’t feel like I’m pressuring you.”

“Would you rather have dinner right now?"

He looked taken back at my question. “Um, uh…” I giggled a bit at the discomfited look on his face. He obviously had no idea how to respond. “I just…” He looked confused. “No?”

“Good.” I looked him in the eye. “Then we’re in agreement.” Oh god, when did I turn so bold?

I’ve seriously been hanging around Adriana way too much, but I am not wearing hundreds of dollars of designer lace and silk under my dress just so I could sit here and eat steak. And honestly, I am ready. Absolutely, one hundred percent ready.

“Now…” I bit my lip and tried to look seductive. “How about you give me a tour of this boat?”

Roman stared at me, looking torn. I don’t think he fully believed me when I said I was ready, but I swear, I will smack him upside the head if he says no.

Luckily, he didn’t. After keeping me waiting for a full minute, he took my hand and led me towards the living area of the yacht.

I took a deep breath, practically shaking from my nerves.

It seemed to take us forever to reach the stateroom, which was as luxurious as the rest of the yacht, but I barely noticed.

Roman dipped his head  to plant a soft kiss on my lips. I was just about to deepen it when he pulled back to look at me.

“Maya.” His voice was a mere whisper. “Are you absolutely sure?”

I swallowed hard.

I remember reading somewhere once that artists didn’t really care if people liked their work or not—they cared about whether their work inspires emotion, whether that be love or hate or anything in between.

There are a lot of guys out there who are cute. There are a lot of guys who are sweeter and less moody than Roman, and there are a
lot
of guys who never kidnapped me or made me feel as though I wanted to tear my hair out. But those were all guys that didn’t inspire much in me besides feelings of serene friendship. But Roman? He had never done anything
except
make me feel every emotion in as intense a way as possible. Love, hate, anger, jealousy, passion…it was all there.