Well, this was awkward.
Zack hovered uncertainly on the deck, clutching his shirt in one hand as he watched Roman disappear through the doors into the dining room, carrying a still-passed-out Maya in his arms princess-style.
Meanwhile, everyone else was completely silent. All the other diners were gaping, open-mouthed, at what had just transpired, while the waiters wrung their hands, probably wondering what do. While this wasn’t a five-star restaurant, it wasn’t exactly McDonald’s either, and if half the people involved in the drama didn’t own this town, the manager surely would’ve already called the police by now.
“That was interesting,” Rico drawled, seemingly unfazed by the situation. He pulled out a cigarette and quickly lit it, blowing a smoke ring straight into Zack’s face.
Zack coughed lightly, scrunching up his face. He hated cigarettes.
“You’re a terrible person,” he scolded, giving Rico a very disapproving look. “You made My-My faint!”
Rico rolled his eyes. “My-My? Jesus, what is this, Sesame Street?”
“I think it’s a cute nickname,” Zack defended himself, feeling slightly hurt.
“You would.” The other boy sighed. “My brother’s friends…” he muttered under his breath. Then, in a normal voice, he added, “Besides, I didn’t make her faint. That’s all your precious Roman’s doing. It’s not my fault he’s a stubborn, jealous asshole.”
Zack’s jaw dropped. “You—you—“
“Um. Sorry to interrupt, but can someone help me up?”
The blond stopped glaring at Rico long enough to see Venice still sprawled on the wooden floor, looking not unlike a drowned, redheaded rat.
“Oh, of course,” he exclaimed, his attitude doing a one-eighty as he held out his hand and hauled Venice to her feet. Her palm felt soft and tiny in his. And wet.
Well, duh, she just fell into the pond.
Unfortunately, Zack pulled her up with slightly more force than necessary, causing Venice to stumble straight into his chest.
“Sorry!” they cried simultaneously, as they both turned scarlet. Zack quickly stepped back and pulled his shirt back over his head.
Rico rolled his eyes in disgust. “My job here is done,” he declared. “I didn’t sign up to watch this puppy love shit. Literally. You kiddies have fun.” He blew one last smoke ring into their faces, then turned and sauntered away.
“What does he mean, his job here is done?” Venice’s brow furrowed adorably as she held her soaked T-shirt away from her skin. At least she was wearing black, so it wasn’t see through.
“Who knows? It’s Rico. He’s kind of weird.” Zack gazed at her in concern. “We should leave though. You might catch a cold if you don’t change out of those clothes.”
He placed a hand on the small of her back to lead her out of the restaurant, and was secretly pleased to see Venice turn even redder at his touch.
They climbed into his Porsche and Zack was halfway to her house when she decided to turn on the radio. Guess who was on?
Yep. Taylor Swift.
Venice brightened. “Oh my god! I love this song!” she cried, her bubbliness coming back in full force as she sang along to “Love Story.”
Zack flinched at her caterwauling. “I guess you didn’t start taking singing lessons sometime between the amusement park and now,” he commented, a shudder rippling through him as Venice completely destroyed the song beyond all recognition. She sounded like a dying cat trying to sing opera.
“Are you making fun of my singing skills?” She crossed her arms over her chest.
Zack snorted, turning into her driveway. “What singing skills?”
Venice stuck out her tongue. “Well, sorry, not everyone can be a musical genius.”
He immediately perked up. “You think I’m a musical genius?”
Having realized her mistake, Venice slunk down in her seat and stared at her shoes. “Come on, everyone knows you are,” she mumbled, sounding embarrassed.
Zack beamed. He wasn’t exactly arrogant, but he knew he was good at music. It always made him happy to hear other people say it though.
“We’re here.” He stared at the house in front of him. It was pretty big, though not as vast as his own family’s 45,000 square foot abode. “I’ll walk you to the door.”
“Ok,” she squeaked.
Zack went around to open the car door for her, and the two of them climbed up the brick steps in silence. When they reached the front door, they stood there a bit awkwardly, neither knowing what to say.
“So, uh, I just want to thank you. For saving me tonight,” Venice clarified shyly, not looking him in the eyes. “That was really, um, brave of you.”
Now it was Zack’s turn to blush. “Don’t mention it. It’s not a big deal. It was just a pond, not an ocean full of sharks or anything. Although you should stop chasing puppies,” he added sternly. “It always seems to get you, and by extension me, into trouble.”
She laughed. “I’ll try. But they’re just so darn cute! Puppies…” A dreamy look took over her eyes.
“No!” Zack grabbed her shoulders and shook her. “Stay with me! Don’t think about the P word! Think about…Humpty Dumpty!”
Venice cracked up. “Humpty Dumpty? Why?”
“Because he’s cool,” Zack declared. “Even if he did fall off a wall.” He paused. “He did fall off a wall, didn’t he?”
She giggled. “You are so cute.” Her eyes grew wide and she immediately slapped a hand over her mouth, but it was too late.
“You think I’m cute?” Zack asked giddily.
“Uh. N-no,” she stuttered. “I-I mean…I think a lot of people are cute. You know. Uh, Maya’s cute. Mickey’s cute. Um, Rico’s cute—well, actually, he’s a little scary, but if he shaved a little and cut his hair and—“
“Venice.”
She stopped. “Yes?”
“Can you stop talking please?”
Venice flushed, looking like she was going to start crying. “Oh, o-ok. I’ll—I’ll just go then. Sorry.”
She turned to open the door, but in that moment, Zack made a quick decision and grabbed her arm, pulling her around to face him again.
Confusion filled her features. “What—“
And then Zack stopped her from talking again. Only this time, it was with one long, deep kiss on the lips.
After a few seconds, when Venice got over her shock and started kissing him back, he smiled against her mouth. She tasted like strawberries and maybe marshmallows, just like he remembered.
This was even better than getting a puppy.
* * *
I was sleeping on a cloud. At least, I think it’s a cloud, because honestly, whatever I was lying on was too soft and fluffy to not be a cloud. I sighed dreamily and nuzzled deeper into the fluffiness. This was awesome.
Just as I started dreaming about Roman and I floating through a rainbow-colored sky in pink heart-shaped bubbles, my body started vibrating. Wait, no. Not vibrating. Shaking. That’s it. I was shaking back and forth like a rag doll, and let me tell you, it was not a comfortable feeling.
“Stop,” I whined, batting at the air. “Please stop. That’s annoying.”
“Maya? Maya, wake up!”
Huh. That voice was awfully familiar…
“Maya, can you hear me?”
After a few more seconds, I finally, reluctantly blinked open my eyes, glad that the room we were in wasn’t all that bright. It took me an extra five seconds to orient myself, and when I did, I found myself staring straight up into a very handsome, very concerned face.
“Oh, thank God.” Roman sighed. “I thought you got a concussion from hitting that wood floor.”
“What happened?” I croaked, struggling to sit up. Roman helped prop me against a mountain of goosedown pillows, covered in fifteen-hundred-thread-count cases (no wonder I thought I was on a cloud). “My head hurts.”
“Of course it hurts.” He looked both annoyed and relieved. “You fainted. Actually, that seems to be a habit of yours.”
“I what?” I exclaimed, now wide awake. I ran through the night’s events in my mind, trying to piece together what happened.
Slowly, it all came back to me. Mine and Rico’s dinner at the restaurant. Venice falling into the pond. Zack diving in to save her. Roman storming in. Rico goading him. And then…
My eyes grew to the size of saucers as I remembered what happened right before I fainted. Holy crap. Did Roman really say that? Or was had I become delusional from my fall?
Trying to quell the backflips my heart was now doing in an apparent attempt to qualify for the US Olympic gymnastics team, I stared at Roman, taking in every inch of his face. The high, chiseled cheekbones. The strong jaw. The full lips. The deep, mesmerizing violet eyes fringed by long black lashes that could make any girl jealous.
And I’m not sure what made me ask what I asked next, but in a small, timid voice, I posed what could end up to be one of the most important questions in my life thus far. “Roman. Did you, uh, did you say you were in love with me?”
And he froze. I swear, I’ve never seen anyone stay so still for so long. He didn’t even look like he was breathing. In fact, were it not for the tomato-like redness creeping slowly up his neck and face, I wouldn’t have been sure if he was even alive or not.
“Roman?” I shifted uncomfortably in my bed after a good five minutes passed by, with nary a sound on his part. “Did you hear me?”
He blinked. “Yes.” I’m not sure if he meant yes, I did say I was in love with you, or yes, I heard you.
He just stared at me, causing me to panic a little. Oh my god. What if he hadn’t said it? That would be absolutely mortifying, especially since I’d already blurted out the L word in the hospital.
My cheeks burning, I threw off the covers. “Um, I should, uh, I should go. Now,” I blurted, avoiding his gaze as my heart pounded against my chest. “My parents are probably, uh, worried.” My voice cracked a little on “worried,” but my feet didn’t even touch the floor before Roman grabbed my wrists, stilling me.
“Why are you leaving so soon?”
“I told you. My parents are going to freak,” I mumbled.
“No, they won’t,” he corrected calmly. “I already called them. I didn’t mention the fainting part, of course, but they know you’re here.”
“Oh.” I sank down on the bed again, turning my back to him. “I kind of want to sleep, though, so can you just—“
“Maya. Can you look at me, please?”
I really, really didn’t want to, but I couldn’t help myself. I looked at him.
Roman’s brow furrowed. “You’re mad at me.”
“No, I’m not!”
“Yes, you are. Why?”
I glared at him. I have the stupidest boyfriend in the world. “I told you. I’m not mad.”
He groaned. “I swear. Maya Lindberg, you are the most stubborn, hard-headed, prideful, confrontational girl I’ve ever met—“
I scowled. Way to tell me how you really feel.
“—which is why I have absolutely no idea how I fell in love with you.”
Stubborn, hard-headed, prideful, and confrontational, huh? Well, you are arrogant, insufferable, ego—wait. What?!
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.”