They exchanged a look, and it was clear as day that they had no idea.
I gave a little moan again, even more pathetic than the last. How was I supposed to get through an entire night pretending to be a princess when Roman was out there potentially pulling further and further away from me with each passing second?
I went through the motions of getting ready, throwing on the gown and the makeup, barely aware of the quiet conversations going on around me between Callie and Savannah until Callie interrupted me right before the party was about to start. “Willow, go out the back. Maverick will be waiting.”
I spun around so quickly I almost tripped over the skirt of the gown. “Waiting for what?”
Savannah rolled her eyes as she gave me a little nudge toward the door. “To give you a ride to the restaurant, obviously.”
Obviously? I stumbled forward, still confused.
“You’re obviously not going to be able to relax until you talk to him,” Callie said. “So go.”
“Are you sure?” I asked.
“We can handle the little brats on our own until you get back,” Savannah said. And then with another harder shove, “Now go get your prince, Rapunzel.”
Thirteen
Roman
* * *
The kitchen was hot and crowded, but it still didn’t stop my mind from racing.
It only managed to intensify this weight that seemed to be planted on my chest and had been ever since I’d left Willow.
Willow. The thought of her name alone made it hard to breathe. Which wasn’t good, and definitely not conducive to cooking in the hot as Hades back kitchen of my Uncle Albert’s restaurant.
“Two more, Roman,” a waiter called out.
I nodded, throwing another chicken breast into the pan as I added the last spices to our ‘world famous’ sauce with my other hand. World famous was relative, obviously, and in this case the world was Lindale.
Even with one of the cooks down the line barking at me to hurry it up, my mind wouldn’t let go of the image of Willow’s face as I’d walked away.
Was she okay? Had she talked to her parents? Like, honestly genuinely talked to them?
I hoped so. For her sake, I hoped so. She needed more people in her life. She needed to let them in. Even if that meant letting me go.
I swallowed, sucking in a deep breath as the thought threatened to leave me winded.
It wasn’t like I would blame her if she did. And it wasn’t like her dad didn’t have a point. So no, I wasn’t angry. I’d be there for Willow in whatever way she needed, even if that meant as a friend. From afar.
“Ah!” I yanked my hand back but wasn’t quite quick enough to avoid the burn. Shaking it out, I reached for the faucet and stuck my hand under.
“Get your head in the game, Roman.” My uncle’s voice behind me made me jerk, and only reinforced his suspicion that I hadn’t been paying attention. At least, not a hundred percent.
My uncle wasn’t exactly a ninja. If he could sneak up on me, I was clearly not totally here in this kitchen. I took a deep breath and focused on the meat sizzling in the pan before me. “Sorry, Uncle Albert.”
He paused beside me, and Gabriel who’d been manning the appetizers beside me shot me a bewildered look.
“Sorry, huh?”
I shrugged. “I wasn’t paying attention,” I said. “But I am now.”
“Uh huh.”
There was a pause, and for a second, I’d thought my uncle had moved on to monitor the rest of the guys further down the row. But then he slid in beside me, surprisingly agile for such a big guy. He forced Gabriel to shift down, and he took the saucepan in hand.
A wave of defensive anger rose up, and maybe, just maybe it had been itching to get out ever since her father had given me that look—like I was dirt. Like I was a deadbeat.
Like I was my dad.
“I don’t need you to babysit me, Uncle Albert,” I said. “I lost focus for a minute there, but I’ve got it under control.”
“I know you do, kid.” He sounded amused by my anger, and when I glanced over I saw I was right. He was trying not to laugh.
“You want to tell me what’s up?” he asked, his tone too mild as his hands deftly maneuvered the food in front of him.
I found myself falling into a rhythm beside him. This was how he’d trained me way back when I was still in junior high and looking for part-time work. Uncle Albert had grudgingly taken me on as a favor to my mother, and he never let me forget the fact that I owed him for taking in a slacker like me.
Like my dad.
I set a pan down too hard with that thought, and Uncle Albert sighed. “What’s the rule, kid?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Leave the teen angst outside the kitchen.”
Gabriel chuckled on the other side of him. Always such a joker, my uncle. But I wasn’t in the mood right now, and I ground my teeth together to keep from blowing a fuse.
“What’s the problem? Your little band have a fight or something?” The mockery that was always there in his tone when he talked about my band made my neck muscles tense.
“What do you know about my ‘little’ band?” I asked. I turned to face him quickly enough that I caught his surprise. “Our little band is good,” I said. “We’ve got a kickass lead singer, and our demo got us a gig at the club in Eastmont.”
He reared back. “No kidding?”
I just glanced at him. A baleful look, at best. I wasn’t in the mood for his mockery, even if it kept him entertained.
“How’d you luck into that?” he asked.
My hands stilled, and anger filled my veins. I never let myself feel this way. Ever. What good would it do to blow my top every time my uncle or my mom hinted that I was a useless slacker, right?
Except right now I still had Willow’s dad’s voice in my head. And worse, I had Willow’s face. Those eyes. The way she’d flinched. I’d never minded before, but now…
Well, now I had someone to impress. Someone who I wanted to make proud.
Someone I wanted to be worthy of.
“It wasn’t luck,” I said, reaching past him for more ingredients.
“Right, right. Talent,” he said, his tone dismissive.
“Mainly hard work,” I said.
His brows arched slightly at my tone, and I couldn’t hide the snark if I’d tried. “Shocking, I know. But believe it or not, I work hard for the things I love.”
I instantly thought of Willow.
No, I thought of what Willow’s face had looked like when I’d walked away earlier that day. I winced. Crap. Maybe I shouldn’t have just left like that.
I’d thought it would help. Some part of me felt like she needed some time alone with her parents to talk to them. To really talk to them. But I’d just left her there. On her own.
Air rushed out of me. I’d freakin’ abandoned the girl I liked more than anyone else in the world. What did that say about me?
My uncle was staring at me. I could feel it, but I ignored him as I threw myself into the monotonous motions of cooking a dish I’d made hundreds of times before.
It wasn’t until my uncle cleared his throat that I glanced over to see him scowling down at the plate in his hands like it had done something wrong. “Look, Roman, you know I like to take the piss out of you, but it’s all in good fun. You know that, right?”
I nodded. Most of the time, I did. He had a wicked sense of humor. Not in a good way. In a has no clue when he’s crossed the line kind of way. I’d always known that about my uncle.
“I know you’re not your dad,” he said, his voice so low I almost missed it. “Your mom knows it too, I think.”
I couldn’t help it. A derisive snort slipped out. My mom washed her hands of me every chance she got, and she never failed to compare me to my father when she did it.
He shot me a sidelong glare. “Or she would if you ever showed her that you’ve grown up. You’ve changed this past month, and I want to…” He cleared his throat awkwardly. “I
want to encourage that.”
I stopped even pretending to cook as I gaped at him. “Uncle Albert, do you honestly think I just woke up one day and decided to grow up?”
His brows hitched up, but he jerked his head toward the burners. “Careful, kid, no one wants to eat charcoal.”
I dealt with the dish before turning back to him. “I’ve always been different from my dad. I’ve always cared about music. Maybe not school, but why bother when everyone in the world already believed me to be a moron.”
“No one ever said—”
“If I’ve changed lately, it’s because someone finally expected me to. She ordered me to.” I didn’t know if I wanted to laugh or shout at the memory of her yelling at me like I was a wayward child. I let out a loud exhale. “You know, what? Forget it. It doesn’t matter. You and my mom and everyone else in this town can go on thinking whatever you want about me, but I know the truth. And I plan on proving you all wrong.”
If I could have stormed off right then and there, I would have. But as I currently had three waiters waiting on me to finish their orders, a dramatic exit wasn’t in the cards. I settled for a stormy silence instead.
The silence didn’t last long before my uncle broke it with a laugh. “Well, good for you, kid.”
I stiffened, waiting for his mockery. But it never came.
“It’s about time you grew some balls and stuck up for yourself.”
I lifted my head and found him smiling as he clapped a hand on my shoulder. “You’re a good kid. And you’re right. We don’t always recognize that. But…” He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “You’ve done a pretty great job of acting like you didn’t care about anyone or anything.”
“True,” I admitted. “I’m partially to blame.”
I reinforced what they already thought of me because it was easier to go along with it—to embrace it, even—than to try and fail.
“I’m done with that,” I said, hoping he’d know what I meant. “I’m ready for more responsibility here, and at home, and…” I swallowed down the rest. It wasn’t for him.
I was ready to be someone’s boyfriend. I was ready for a commitment. For expectations and responsibilities. I was ready to be relied on.
And I’d done a hell of a job proving it. I winced again at the thought of walking away from Willow.
“All right, spill. What’s with the angst?” my uncle said.
If there was any mockery there, I couldn’t detect it. After a moment’s hesitation, I thought about all the conversations I’d been having with Willow about opening up. About letting people in.
About letting them see the real you.
So I pushed aside the voice that said I was only opening myself up to more teasing, and I told him. “There’s a girl.”
He huffed a laugh. “Isn’t there always?”
“No,” I said. My serious tone made his eyes widen. “No, she isn’t a girl. She’s the girl.”
“Ah.” He leaned against the counter. “The one who called over here the other day?”
“Yes. Willow.”
“What happened? Did you two fight?”
“Not really.” I replayed that moment for the millionth time. Every detail from the perfect, hot, amazing feel of her lips crushed to mine to that cold slap in the face when he’d all but accused me of being a lowlife deadbeat like my dad.
“So what happened?” my uncle asked.
“Her father.” My tone conveyed all I couldn’t say.
My uncle actually winced. “That bad, huh?”
“He thinks I’m a bad influence. A no good loser.” I donned my typical smile—the smug one that said I didn’t give a crap what anyone thought of me.
But I was pretty sure neither of us bought it.
My uncle didn’t smile back. His gaze was deadly serious. “He’s wrong.”
I swallowed and gave a short nod, not wanting him or any of the other guys in this kitchen to see how affected I was by those two words.
“He’s wrong, and you’ll prove it to him.” My uncle actually winked like we were in on some conspiracy. “You’ll prove it to all of ‘em.”
I wasn’t even sure who ‘all of ‘em’ entailed, but the meaning was clear, and it hit me straight in the solar plexus.
“Thanks,” I said. “But there’s only one person I need to know. And I’m pretty sure I already screwed up.”
My uncle was looking past me, his gaze thoughtful. “This girl of yours. She wouldn’t happen to have long hair and a penchant for princesses, would she?”
I stared at him for a heartbeat before whipping around to see… “Willow?”
She was hovering in the doorway, her too-big gown hitched up to her ankles and her chest rising and falling as if she’d been running.
“Hi Roman.” She gave me a small smile that looked nervous.
That was when I realized I wasn’t the only one staring. Every guy in the kitchen was gaping at her. Even my uncle.
I hurried toward her. “Willow, what are you doing here? Is everything okay?”
“Yes. I hope so.” She glanced past me. “I’m sorry to interrupt.”
Apparently my uncle heard that because he came over, all smiles for Willow and herded us toward the office. “Go, go. You two kids talk. And Roman?” He flashed me a mocking smile. “Leave your angst out of the kitchen.”
The guys behind him laughed, and I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”
“What was that about?” Willow asked as I shut the door behind me.
“Nothing, just…” I opened my mouth to explain my odd and complicated relationship with my uncle but thought better of it. “I’ll explain later. What are you doing here?”
“I just...I wanted…” Her eyes grew so wide, for a moment I was terrified of whatever she was about to say.
“Willow? Is everything okay?”
She sputtered on a laugh. “Yes. That’s actually why I came. To ask you that. I hated what my dad said and...and...”
I interrupted at the same time she finished.
“I shouldn’t have left.”
“I shouldn’t have let you leave,” she said.
We stared at each other for a second before bursting into a laugh. And then she was apologizing for her father’s words, and her inaction, and—
I kissed her. I cut her off rudely, but I couldn’t help myself. I was so relieved to see her. So happy that she hadn’t given up on me.
I should have known she wouldn’t. There was no one stronger than Willow. The girl had survived more than I could imagine, and she’d found a way to thrive even when she was scared for her health and trying so hard to do it all on her own.
She stiffened in surprise before melting against me. “I’m sorry,” she whispered when I pulled back.
“You have nothing to apologize for.”
She pursed her lips. “My dad does.”
I shrugged. “He’s looking out for you.”
A lesser person might have said something like ‘too little too late,” but not Willow. She merely tilted her head to the side as she thought it over. “We’ve all been trying our best, I think. But it’s time we do better.”
Do better. Be better.
I loved the fact that her voice was still in my head, and I had a hunch it always would be there, urging me on to be my very best self.
I brought my hands up to cup her cheeks. “I like you, Willow Stephens. I like you so much.”
Her eyes brimmed with tears, but her mouth split in a gorgeous grin. “I like you too, Roman. So much.”
I kissed her again, vowing to myself that for her I would always try my best. I would do it for me, and for her...and for us.
“I have a question,” she said when I pulled back for air.
“Shoot.” I tried to stifle my amusement, but she was just so freakin’ cute when she got all serious and studious. Her hair might have been down, and yes, she was still wearing that silly gown, but she had her librarian expression going on and it made my chest ac
he with happiness.
“Does this mean you’re my boyfriend?” she asked.
My heart expanded. It swelled so quickly I grew lightheaded. It was happiness, plain and simple...and it was all because of her. This girl. My Willow.
I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her close. “Only if you agree to be my girlfriend.”
Her smile lit up her whole face, and her eyes danced with happiness. “I can do that.”
“Good.” I kissed her soundly on the lips. “Then we have a deal.”
Fourteen
Willow
* * *
So I had a boyfriend now. This was new.
New and unexpected.
And if he and I could just survive this one party, we might even have an amazing future together.
“Willow?” he murmured into my ear.
“Yes?”
“You’re crushing my hand.” The laughter in his voice did more to put me at ease than all the pep talks my friends had given me before he’d arrived.
I winced up at him. “Sorry.”
His smile. Sweet mercy, that smile. Would it ever not make my heart thud like crazy? Right now he was using it to its full effect, the laugh lines crinkling, the mega-dimples dimpling, and his eyes softening to the point where his tender gaze made my belly do flips.
His hair was still wet because he’d run home to shower after working in the kitchen all night, and his black T-shirt clung to muscles that made me forget my own name.
He looked more handsome than ever right now, but maybe I was biased because now he was my boyfriend. My boyfriend.
Nope. Still sounded weird, even in my head.
But then my dad interrupted, and the belly flips turned to belly sinking in a heartbeat.
“Roman,” my father said in his sternest voice. I glanced up at him with arched brows and caught a tick in his jaw as he looked to me and then back to Roman. “We’re glad you could make it.”
“Thank you, sir,” Roman said, his voice nearly as stiff as my father’s, though his smile was still charming.
He was still charming.
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