You Had Me at Hola(31)

“Fine, Carmen. But I’m not drunk. Just hungover.”

“Oh, that’s so much better.” She let out a short, humorless laugh and jammed her hands onto her hips. And completely ignored the thrill she got when he rolled the r in Carmen.

He was doing it again, like he had throughout their marriage. Forcing her into the position of authority, making her act like his mother. She hated when he did this, and his immaturity had ultimately led to the downfall of their marriage.

Or at least, this was the context they’d determined in rehearsal with Vera and Marquita.

“I’m okay to finish the set,” Victor said, but he was sweating, and his eyes were glassy.

Carmen didn’t even bother to respond to that. “I should’ve known this would happen the second those idiotas showed up. Your little entourage has always been a bad influence on you. This is the whole reason why you’re living in my parents’ house, Victor. The whole reason why we’re doing all of this.” Her voice turned pleading. “Why are you letting them ruin your progress?”

At that, Victor slumped into a folding chair and dropped his head into his hands. After a long beat, he blew out a breath and lifted his head. His expression was bleak. “You’re right.”

Carmen stood very still. She didn’t know how to handle a Victor who expressed emotions readily, much less one who agreed with her. It wasn’t in Victor’s nature, especially not where his friends were involved. When he lowered his face again, though, she stepped forward, her feet moving of their own volition.

“Oye.” She took his face in her hands and gently raised his chin. “Mírame.”

They held each other’s gazes for a long, quiet moment, then Carmen leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead.

Victor exhaled, some of the tension draining out of his body. “I don’t know how else to act around them,” he said, and his voice held a note of confession.

“Around who?”

“Mi grupito, as you called them. The guys.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know how else to act?”

He shrugged, and she dropped a hand to his shoulder, massaging absently.

“They’ve been my friends since the beginning, my hype guys. But they expect me to act like the playboy, the star. Always cool, always down to party. But they’re also my biggest fans. So I feel like I need to, I don’t know, live up to that image, so they keep on supporting me.”

“Oh, Victor.” Carmen smiled, even though her heart was breaking a little. This man had always had the ability to hurt her, and yet, she’d loved him. Still loved him, in some ways. “I was your biggest fan.”

As the truth of her words sank in, his expression cleared, and his eyes searched her face. She wished she knew what he was looking for.

“Lo siento, Carmen.” His voice was soft as he caressed her cheek. She couldn’t help leaning into his touch. “I have so many . . . regrets. Especially where you’re concerned. I shouldn’t have let my friends come between us.”

“We both made mistakes,” she admitted. “I was hurt. I could’ve reacted differently.”

“You shut me out,” he reminded her, but there was no censure in his tone. Only memory.

“I know.” Her own voice sounded wistful, sad. He wasn’t the only one with regrets. “But you were doing so much better. What happened last night?”

He sighed. “One of them saw pictures of us on the red carpet. His sister still follows my career, and she showed him. So they made a plan to get together last night, hit me up on our old group text, and—”

“And you snuck out of my parents’ house like a teenager to go hang out with your friends?” She smiled to show she was teasing.

He huffed out a short laugh. “Yeah, basically.”

“But why, Victor?” This was the part she couldn’t understand. “You agreed to avoid this kind of temptation. You knew the concert was today. Why jeopardize everything for a night out drinking?”

His gaze fell, like he couldn’t meet her eyes. Silence stretched between them before he answered. “I’m afraid.”

Sensing they were on a precipice here, Carmen kept her voice barely above a whisper. “Of what?”

He swallowed. “I’m afraid that if I don’t live up to the image, or do what everyone expects of me, that they’ll all find out the truth.”

Heart in her throat, Carmen brushed his hair back with her fingers. “What truth?”

His eyes shot to hers, and they blazed with emotion. “That I’m nothing.”

It would be a perfect commercial break moment, but they didn’t have that. There was nothing to alleviate the tension stretching taut between them. Carmen’s breath trembled out. Her heart ached for him. “How can you—”

“It’s all just an illusion, a spectacle, hinged on a pretty voice and some talented music producers.” His voice was harsh now, and he got to his feet to pace the small area inside the tent. “If I don’t keep playing the part, like a goddamned trained monkey, they’ll all find out there’s nothing but smoke and mirrors, and I’ll lose everything.”

“Who?” Carmen demanded. “If who finds out?”

“Everyone.” He slashed a hand through the air, getting really worked up now. “The fans. The media. You.”