All I've Never Wanted(85)

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…”