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?”
My stomach rumbled at the thought of pad Thai.“Perfect.”
He laughed. “See you later then.”
For the next hour or so, I explored the guesthouse, which was about twice the size of any regular house in any other part of America. I could feel myself relaxing, just from being away from the Fiori residence, even though it was only two streets away. It almost seemed as though yesterday had been a bad dream.
I pushed open the curtains of my room, delighted to find I had a perfect view of the Tevascos’ giant lagoon pool. Today was fairly warm for a fall afternoon, and the water looked so inviting…
Making up my mind, I threw on my favorite black bikini, grabbed a towel, and flip-flopped down to the pool.
When I got there, though, I was surprised to see someone had beat me to it. From the back, he looked an awful lot like Carlo, except a bit taller and broader, and his hair was longer.
He turned when he heard my footsteps, and my eyes widened.
Whoa. He looked almost exactly like Carlo, only different, if that made sense. The coloring was identical, and their facial structures were similar, only the guy standing in front of me had thinner lips and a nose that looked like it’d been broken more than a few times. The most startling difference though, was his eyes. Whereas Carlo’s were warm and soulful, his were harder, more cynical.
“Well, hello, darling,” he said, eyeing me head-to-toe in a way that made me shiver. “And who might you be?”
I held the towel in front of me, wishing I’d worn a cover up. His lips tugged into a smirk at my action.
“I’m Maya. Carlo’s friend,” I said, my voice surprisingly clear and steady. “Who are you?”
He chuckled. “Rico. Carlo’s brother.”
My jaw dropped. Carlo had a brother? And he never told me? A frisson of hurt snaked its way through my system.
“Don’t worry if he never mentioned me,” Rico drawled. “He rarely does.” His eyes burned through my towel, and I clutched it tighter to me.
“Oh. W-why?”
There was something about Rico that made me incredibly nervous. Forget swimming. Just go back in the guesthouse! my mind screamed.
Rico smirked. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” There was a strange inflection in his voice, but before I could do anything, another voice cut in.
“Rico! What are you doing here?”
I nearly collapsed with relief when I saw Carlo stride over angrily. He looked madder than I’d ever seen him. Actually, I’ve never seen him mad before, period. It was a little scary.
Rico shrugged, seemingly unperturbed. “Just getting to know your friend, little brother,” he answered cavalierly. “Besides, this is my house too.”
“For now,” Carlo muttered. He switched his gaze to me, concern filling his face. “Are you okay?”
I nodded.
“Are you sure?”
I nodded again, wondering why he looked so on edge.
“Come on, let’s get you back in the guesthouse,” Carlo murmured, guiding me inside.
“It was nice to meet you!” Rico called out laughingly. “I’ll see you around…very soon.”
Carlo’s hand stiffened on my back, but neither of us said anything until we were inside.
“What was that?” I breathed. You could’ve cut the tension between Carlo and his brother with a knife.
He shook his head. “Just my brother being a jerk, as usual.” He frowned down at me. “I’m sorry you had to run into him.”
“It’s no big deal. He didn’t do anything.”
“Good.” Carlo sounded relieved. “Just—be careful around him, ok? He’s not the nicest person on the planet.”
“Hey, if I can take on Roman, I’m sure I can handle him,” I half-joked.
A sad smile flitted across his face. “It’s not necessarily the same thing. Just promise me you’ll be careful?”
I bit my lip. “I promise.”
Carlo’s shoulders relaxed a bit, and the smile reappeared. “So tell me. What are you going to do about Roman?”
Now it was my turn to stiffen. “What do you mean?”
A mischievous twinkle lit up his dark eyes. “Well, you are going to get revenge on him for what he did, right?”
I frowned. “I never thought about it.”
“You should. It’ll be pretty easy, he gets jealous quickly.” Carlo smirked.
I rolled my eyes. “You can only be jealous if you like someone, and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t like me. What?”
Carlo was staring at me in disbelief. “Are you sure you’re an honor student?”
“Of course I am!” I huffed, insulted. “I’ve been an honor student all my life!”
“So you’re honestly telling me you don’t think he likes you?”
I blinked. “Um. No. I mean, yes.”
He laughed. “Wow, this is going to be fun.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
He just shook his head. “You’re coming with us to celebrate Adri and Zack’s birthday next week, right?”
“Of course. We even picked out Zack’s present together, remember?”
Carlo grinned. “Good. That’ll be the perfect time.”
“For what?”
“To make him jealous.”
I stomped my foot. “I told you, you can’t make someone jealous unless—“
“Unless they like you, yadda yadda yadda.” He tugged on a lock of my hair. “Come on, don’t knock it till you try it. Besides, wasn’t he trying to make you jealous yesterday? Why don’t you give him a taste of his own medicine?”
“I’m pretty sure he was just trying to be a pain in my butt yesterday, as usual,” I sniffed.
Carlo just looked at me. I threw my hands up, letting the towel fall to the floor. “What do you want me to do? I’m not good at this stuff!”
He laughed. “Wearing that bikini might be a start.”
I made a face. “What a perv.”
Carlo smirked, ruffling my hair. I grumpily tried to swat his hand away. “Don’t worry, I’ll help you out. Just consider it a social experiment of sorts. Have fun with it. Even if it doesn’t work, just consider it an ego boost."
Part of me still wanted to say no. Considering I’ve never had a real boyfriend, I’m not so good at these flirting games people pay. On the other hand, what if I could make Roman jealous? Or at the very least, upset?
I suddenly flashed back to the scene on the staircase, after I came home from the amusement park with James.
A small smile curved my lips. Huh. Maybe was Carlo right. It was time to give Roman a taste of his own medicine.
* * *
“Thank you for an amazing day,” Solange cooed, as Roman pulled up in front of the hotel where she was staying.
She trailed her fingers down his chest until it rested precariously close to a certain region below his belt. “You can come up with me if you want,” she breathed. “I have a hot tub in my room.” She eyed him suggestively.
“No, thanks,” Roman answered curtly, grasping her wrist and placing it in her lap. “You should get some sleep. You leave early tomorrow.”
Solange pouted. “I can make time for you.”
Jeez, couldn’t she get a hint? “I’m tired,” he snapped.
She frowned. “Fine,” she huffed, grabbing her new Gucci purse angrily and opening the door. She stopped and looked back at him hopefully, as if he were going to call her back.
When he didn’t, she slammed the door shut.
The minute she did, Roman peeled away from the curb. God, dealing with Solange for an entire day was insufferable. Trying to have a normal, intelligent conversation with her was like trying to pull teeth.
If it weren’t for Maya, I wouldn’t even have to deal with her, Roman thought angrily, slamming his foot on the brake at a stop sign.
He’d only brought Solange back to the house yesterday because he thought Maya might be up, but she wasn’t. Then, the model had downed an entire bottle of wine by herself, babbling about shopping the whole time until he finally told her he’d take her to the mall today just to shut her up. Solange ended up spilling some of the wine on her dress in her excitement, hence why he’d reluctantly let her borrow a shirt. And on top of all that, she’d passed out before he could call a cab to take her home.
Roman had planned to make up an “emergency” so he could get out of the shopping trip, but then freakin’ Maya had waltz into the kitchen. He certainly wasn’t about to cancel in front of her.
His hands tightened on the steering wheel as he thought back to the kitchen scene.
“He really was the perfect date. I’m going to have to find some…method of making it up to him.”
No need to ask what her “method” entailed.
A low growl erupted from his throat as he pulled up in front of his house, tires squealing.
Carlo, Carlo, Carlo. Of course Carlo could do no wrong. He was perfect.
Roman stomped angrily into the house, his boots echoing loudly in the marble halls. What did Carlo have that he didn’t anyway? Did girls seriously like that oh-so-sensitive bullshit?
It was wimpy as hell, in his opinion.
Of course, what really galled him was the fact that seeing him with Solange seemed to have no effect on Maya whatsoever. Just picturing her sitting there at the kitchen table that morning, calmly eating her stupid muffin, made his blood boil. She wasn’t supposed to be so nonchalant!
Well, what did you expect? a voice asked smugly inside his head. Did you really think she could like you?
“What’s there not to like?” Roman growled out loud. “I’m Roman Fiori!”
Yes, but that doesn’t mean a thing to her. Honestly, she’s better off with someone else. Someone like…Carlo.
“Shut up!” Roman roared, causing a passing maid to shoot him an alarmed look and scuttle into the closest room as fast as her feet could take her.
Why do you care so much anyway? Could you possibly have feelings—
“No way,” Roman muttered furiously. “I’m just mad because she’s the only girl who isn’t fawning over me the way. She’s. Supposed. To!”
He yanked open the door to his room and slammed it shut behind him.
He only took two steps before he stopped, turned, and stormed across the hall to her room. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to say to her, but he had a feeling she was lying about being sick yesterday.
At least, he hoped she’d been lying. She seemed pretty upset when she saw him kissing Solange.
Roman scowled even more at the memory of the kiss. It had been a necessary evil, or so he’d thought. Now, it just seemed like it had all been for nothing.
“Maya!”
He stepped into the Greek suite, searching for a glimpse of her dark hair. Roman’s eyes scanned the empty room, puzzled.
Her bed was perfectly made, and he couldn’t hear any noises. That was weird. She was usually back by this time.
“Maya?”
No response.
His heart speeding up a bit, Roman thoroughly checked the bedroom. Something was off, but he couldn’t tell what. By the time he’d gone through the dressing rooms, bathroom, study area, and the rest of the suite, he was full-on panicking.
Where the hell was she? Had she been mugged? Kidnapped?
His heart tugged violently at the thought.
Roman quickly pressed the intercom button, and the head housekeeper answered immediately.
“Gloria, where’s Maya?” he barked.
The housekeeper paused. “I don’t believe I’ve seen Miss Lindberg all day, Mr. Fiori.”
“Well, she’s not here!”
“Perhaps she went out?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, where could she possibly have gone?” he snapped. “Find her!”
“I—“ Before Gloria had a chance to answer, Roman released the button.
He whipped out his phone, calling Parker, Adri, and Zack in succession. None of them knew where she was, which left him no choice.
Roman reluctantly speed-dialed Carlo, and the Colombian picked up after three rings.
“Hello?”
“Have you seen her?” he demanded without preamble.
“Seen who?” Carlo asked calmly.
“Maya!”
“Yes.”
Relief filled Roman’s lungs. “Where is she? She’s not here!”
“I know. She’s here, with me.”
And just like that, the relief was replaced with roaring jealousy. Roman’s grip tightened on his phone. “Where is ‘here’, and why the hell is she there at this time of night?”
“She’s in my guesthouse.” Carlo sounded almost amused. “Didn’t she tell you? She’s staying here for the next two weeks.”
Roman froze, ice filling his veins. “What?” His voice was hoarse.
“Her parents are extending their stay in Napa, and she’s decided to stay with me until they come back,” Carlo explained serenely.
By now, Roman was gripping his phone so tight he heard it crack a little. His stomach clenched painfully at the thought of Maya and Carlo. Alone. For two weeks. “Why didn’t she just stay here?” he hissed, even though he didn’t really want to hear the answer.
He could almost hear Carlo shrug on the other end. “She said she felt more comfortable staying with me. Can’t hog her all to yourself, you know,” he said jokingly, even though Roman did not find it funny at all.
He resisted the urge to reach through the phone and throttle his soon-to-be-ex-friend.
“Carlo? Who are you talking to?” Maya’s lilting voice in the background came through loud and clear. “Dinner’s here.”
A red haze formed before Roman’s eyes as he pictured them sitting together, eating a romantic dinner by candlelight.
“I’ll be right there,” Carlo called back. Speaking to Roman, he added, “Sorry, gotta go. I’ll see you later.”
Roman sputtered angrily as the other boy ended the call, a vein pulsing angrily in his neck.
“Dammit!” Feeling the need to break something, and violently so, he hurled his phone against the wall, not caring he’d paid almost a thousand dollars to customize it. It promptly shattered into pieces.
Later that night, Roman tucked his hands behind his head, staring up at the ceiling in his darkened room. He couldn't sleep. The hopefully imaginary scene of Carlo and Maya eating dinner, finishing dinner, kissing, and maybe even doing more , kept replaying in his head like a broken record.
He turned on his side, closing his eyes and willing sleep to descend. It didn't work.
Roman gripped the top of his comforter in frustration. How did that girl manage to stay on his mind even when she wasn't anywhere near him?
A hollow feeling spread in his stomach as he thought about the empty suite across from his. For some reason he'd always slept better, knowing she was right there across the hall.
The dinner image was instantly replaced by a memory of that night she'd ran into his room, screaming about the girl from The Grudge.
A small chuckle escaped his throat as he remembered how freaked out she'd been. She was pretty cute when she was scared.
Roman buried his face in his pillow, trying to push her out of his mind. It wasn’t until three hours later that he finally managed to drift off to sleep, a picture of a certain green-eyed brunette's face lingering on his mind.