Never Have I Ever Land: A Sweet YA Romance (Fall in Love Like a Princess Book 3)

by Maggie Dallen

  But then the party had gone on too long, and then the birthday girl had been crying and I was the only one who’d managed to cheer her up. And then I’d stupidly told Willow and Flynn and the others I didn’t need a ride because I had my car and—this car was officially going to be the death of me.

  I kicked a tire as a string of curse words flew out of my mouth. Okay fine. They weren’t real curse words, but they were filled with hate. “Son of a biscuit!” I kicked the car’s tires. “Cheese and crackers. You little turkey butt, I’m gonna—”

  A throat being cleared behind me had me freezing mid-kick. And probably for the best. My toes were starting to hurt from all the kicking.

  “Need a hand?” That low voice. It was unmistakable. Only one person on the planet spoke in a growl. Which was perfect, really, when he was playing the Beast. But at moments like this?

  Well, let’s just say it was a good thing I knew who Maverick was because that voice, paired with the body of a giant, combined with the fact that the sun had set and I was alone on a dark street?

  Yeah, if this were anyone other than the Cowardly Lion, I’d have been scared. Not that I thought he was a coward. Or a lion. He’d just played one at his first gig with the Princess Troupe and now that was how I thought of him.

  I turned slowly, giving myself a second to catch my breath since his voice had sent my heart straight into my throat.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  I smiled. I couldn’t help it. Even frustrated beyond belief, this guy made me want to laugh. It was something about how serious he looked all the time.

  Like, this guy literally had the world at his fingertips—okay, maybe not literally. Metaphorically, he had it all. He was a freakin’ football star and super popular—Savannah’s friends were all about him. And yet, by the way he looked you’d think someone had just kicked his puppy.

  “I’m fine, thanks,” I said.

  He arched his brows ever so slightly, but from this giant slab of granite, he might as well have shouted. He was not an expressive guy, and for the life of me I couldn’t get a read on him. He seemed nice enough, though, and that was good enough for me.

  “You want a ride?” he asked.

  I should say no. He was probably just being polite. I grimaced as I looked from him to my broken-down car and back again.

  I should say no, but I wouldn’t. I was desperate. “If you don’t mind?”

  His lips twitched. So, that told me absolutely nothing. That could have been a twitch of annoyance, or the start of a smile, or even a wince of regret that he’d offered in the first place. I chose to believe it was a smile.

  That was the nice thing about this undecipherable dude. I could translate him however I chose. And I always chose the happy route. That was just kind of my personality. Why choose to focus on the negative when you could choose to be positive, right?

  He nodded for me to follow him to his truck, which was parked farther down the road. I filled the silence because—of course I did. That was what I excelled at. Making people comfortable, easing tensions, lightening the mood.

  Except for around Roman, of course. Nope. Around my crush I turned into a neon sign of awkwardness. I couldn’t not blush, which was annoying, but it was the fact that my brain went blank that was the real killer. I couldn’t think of a thing to say to him. Last time when I knew I was going to see him at an engagement party we were all working, I came up with a list of topics. But he was either not a skilled conversationalist or my questions about his catering job made him think I was just trying to learn more about the food service industry for a school project or something. What was supposed to have been a conversation turned into an interview.

  I winced as I followed Maverick to his truck. Not my finest moment.

  But if we were in a band together? Excitement and nerves had me making a weird squeaking noise before I clamped my lips together to stop it.

  But Maverick just glanced back at me in response. Not even a twitch of his lips to give away his thoughts.

  He was a tough nut to crack, this one, but I was on the case.

  “So.” I turned to face him when we reached the passenger side door and he opened it for me. “Did you have to stay late or–Eep!”

  Another weird squeak, but this time because he’d given me a hand up into his truck. And by that I mean, he basically tossed me in there like I was a gym bag.

  “Sorry,” he muttered.

  I straightened with a smile. “No worries. Thanks for the lift.”

  He stared at me. Glared? No, stared. It was an intense look, for sure, but I was almost certain he wasn’t angry. “You shouldn’t be driving that car.”

  I jerked back a bit because...um, what? Every defensive hackle rose at that. “It’s the only car I’ve got.”

  “It’s not safe.”

  My brows came down at that. “I’m fine.”

  “Because you’re with me.”

  My spine straightened and I was forced to consider that maybe my optimism about this guy was unwarranted. Maybe I’d been too hasty to deem him a good guy. There was only one thing that really made me mad and it was when anyone, but particularly any guy, treated me like a child.

  “I can take care of myself,” I said.

  He remained quiet and that was somehow worse than him saying something. He shut the passenger side door and I let out a long exhale.

  First car troubles and now my new work pal was treating me like some helpless damsel in distress. I looked down and my self-esteem took another blow as I realized his truck was one of those monster ones where the seats were not meant for midgets, so my feet dangled above the floor.

  It was super hard to remain on my ‘I’m a grown-up’ high-horse while wearing a Tinkerbell costume and with my ballet-slippered feet dangling.

  Also, I wasn’t terribly good at holding a grudge. Truthfully, I kind of sucked at it.

  By the time he’d gotten into his side of the truck and was starting up the car, I was smiling over at him. “Thanks for the ride.”

  He nodded. “Where to?”

  “Oh, right.” I pulled out my phone to call up the address Roman had texted.

  “You don’t know your own address?”

  I gave Maverick the side eye because I couldn’t tell for a second if he was mocking me or just legit confused.

  I opted to believe confused because he didn’t strike me as the mocking type. “It’s Roman’s address.” I held up the phone as if for proof. “I’m supposed to audition and—” I sighed as I looked down at my costume. “And I don’t have time to go home first to change.”

  He made a noise. A growl or a grunt that could have meant a million things. I looked over. Nope, that was no help at all. His expression was just as grim as ever. Stoic, actually. He had the imposing features of an old Greek statue, and his expression seemed just as immovable.

  “You look good,” he said.

  I stared at him for a long moment, waiting for a laugh. “I look like Tinkerbell.”

  He lifted one shoulder in response.

  Okay then. Good talk. I turned to stare straight ahead and tried not to think about the audition to come.

  “Better than Captain Hook.” His murmur was so low I almost didn’t hear. But I did hear and the unexpectedness of a joke coming from this guy had me laughing a little louder and harder than the comment warranted.

  I turned to face him. “You made a great Hook.”

  He turned to give me a bland look. “All I did was stand there.”

  “Yeah, but you did it in a way that scared the kids.”

  He glanced at me again. “All I did was stand there,” he said again. “Are you saying I’m naturally terrifying?”

  My first instinct was to protest. To assure him it was just that fake plastic hook that was scary, even though it was a lie. I imagined a lot of people found this guy scary. But then I caught a flicker of amusement in his eyes and my jaw dropped as I choked on another laugh. “Maverick Prater, are you crackin
g jokes right now?”

  His lips twitched and this time it was enough to see the start of a smile. Small and grudging, like he wasn’t sure I was worthy of such an honor.

  I laughed and leaned in closer. “You are!”

  He pressed his lips together in response as if to say it was a once and done deal.

  I didn’t care, I was still grinning like an idiot as I sat back in my seat. I loved being surprised by people. I loved seeing what made people laugh and smile, and what made them tick. People were fascinating like that. No two were the exact same.

  I wondered what made Roman laugh. And then wished I hadn’t because for a little while there I’d managed to forget I was nervous. All too soon we were there. In front of a garage where Roman and some other guys were holding instruments and talking and—

  And what was I doing here?

  I had no business being here.

  I sang show tunes for kids. Sure, sometimes I sang other stuff in the shower, but when it came to singing in public, my experience was pretty much wowing soccer moms with my Elsa impersonation. I appreciated their applause—I appreciated their tips even more—but I was so not a real singer.

  Maverick cleared his throat again and that was when I realized I’d just been sitting there, staring in horror at Roman and his bandmates who were waiting for me. I’d made no move to get out of the truck.

  “Sorry,” I said quickly. “I’m holding you up.”

  “No.”

  I glanced over. No? What did that mean? I waited. He didn’t elaborate.

  Okay then. I looked down at my lap and took a deep breath. “I’m just nervous, that’s all.”

  “Why? You’re an amazing singer.”

  My head whipped back around so quickly my big Tinkerbell bun wobbled. “Yeah?”

  I didn’t mean it like that. I didn’t mean to fish for more compliments, but I was stunned stupid at the compliment. I hadn’t realized he’d paid attention. I mean, I guess he sort of had to, what with me singing right next to him the other day when I was Belle. But I hadn’t realized it and now I felt another blush creeping up my cheeks.

  Great. Already blushing and I hadn’t even tried to talk to Roman yet.

  Maverick’s gaze met mine. “You’ve got this,” he said.

  His words gave me a burst of courage. All at once I knew what it would be like to be his teammate out on the field. He had confidence enough to spare, and everything about him said he’d have your back.

  I straightened and took another gulp of air. “Thanks.”

  I went to open my door and realized he was opening his too. “Oh, you don’t have to—”

  But he was already walking around the truck’s front and was throwing my door open as I wiggled awkwardly over to the edge. “You don’t have to—”

  He plucked me out of the seat and set me on my feet and my protest died with a sigh. I would have protested more if I’d thought for one second I could have gracefully climbed down without flashing every guy in that garage.

  As it was... “Thanks.”

  He nodded.

  “For the ride and for...everything.” I smiled up at him and he glared right back.

  No, not glared. His gaze was intense but not mean. There should be a word that was somewhere between stare and glare.

  Leer? No. That sounded creepy.

  Slare. Yes. This was the word for it.

  I took one last glance down at my ridiculous costume. But there was nothing to be done. It was time to suck it up and face the music. I headed toward the garage. To my surprise, Maverick followed.

  I stopped.

  He stopped.

  I turned.

  He turned.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  He nodded toward the garage. “I’m coming with you.”

  I opened my mouth because...what now? He wanted to tag along at my audition? More importantly, why? Did he honestly think I was in danger or something? That I was too helpless to go to an audition alone?

  But the guys in the garage had spotted us, and it occurred to me that maybe he just wanted to hear the band play. I bit my lip and shrugged. “Yeah, okay.”

  And that was how I walked into my audition with my very own bodyguard. I was basically already a rock star. The thought had me choking on a nervous laugh.

  “Well, well, if it isn’t Tinkerbell,” Roman called out. He hadn’t worked the party today, but I supposed anyone in the world would recognize this costume.

  I didn’t miss the shared looks and the laughs as the other guys were introduced. One had gone to Lindale High and graduated last year with Roman. The other was a cousin of the drummer. And both of them were staring at me like I was a lunatic.

  I blamed the glitter.

  I fidgeted with the tulle skirts.

  And the costume.

  “Are you seriously Tinkerbell?” the bass player name Dylan asked.

  I nodded and in a barrage of words told them way more than they’d ever wanted to know about a kids’ birthday party and how the little girl’s favorite character was a fairy.

  So, I had that going for me. This was definitely going great.

  My palms were sweating as they all stared at me, and for a second there I was glad to have Maverick at my back.

  He might have been overprotective in a weird sort of way, but I felt like he was in my corner. Literally and figuratively since I was currently hovering near the corner.

  “So, you’re seriously Tinkerbell,” Dylan said with a snicker that ended abruptly when his gaze drifted past me to Maverick.

  I was tempted to look over my shoulder to see what his face was doing, but I had a feeling I knew.

  The slare was no doubt a glare now. And I was okay with that.

  “Hey, maybe that could be our theme.” The drummer was grinning, and I liked him instantly. They said his name was Ax, but I had to assume that was a nickname. “We could all dress up like Peter Pan and the Lost Boys.”

  I laughed. Okay fine, I giggled. I was not proud of the way my normal laugh turned all high-pitched when I was nervous, but the tension in the room was easing now that the laughter wasn’t at my expense.

  Even Roman laughed, although he was shaking his head at Ax like ‘you’re such an idiot.’ But what he actually said was, “Well, Tinkerbell?” He gestured to the mic. “We’re ready when you are.”

  I gave a nod and drew in a sharp breath. I risked a quick peek over my shoulder at Maverick, and even though he didn’t outright say anything and his expression was as impassive as ever, I was almost positive he was telling me ‘you got this.’

  And whether we actually had a telepathic connection or that was my imagination, it helped.

  When I stood behind the mic, I saw Maverick slaring and I had another insight of what it would be like to be on the football team with this big dude and it made me grin. Smiling helped to ease some of my nerves so I smiled again as I gave the band a nod to let them know I was ready.

  And when the music started, I almost forgot to be nervous all together.

  When it was time to join in I closed my eyes, opened my mouth, and let it all out.

  Three

  Maverick

  Holy freakin’—

  What the—

  What on earth was that?

  I ran a hand over my hair. I couldn’t even finish a thought. My brain was a giant overcooked noodle. Because Callie. Was. Killing it.

  She transformed right in front of my eyes.

  One second she was returning my gaze with this nervous smile that made my stomach clench on her behalf, and the next...the next...

  “Freakin’ A, man.” Dylan sounded as dazed as I felt when the music ended and the last chords faded. “She’s like Janis Joplin meets Adele.”

  “Meets Mariah Carey,” Ax added. Everyone turned to him and he shrugged. “She has an amazing range.”

  I turned back to Callie just in time to see her morph back into her normal self. Gone was the rock star and back was the happ
y little elf spreading Christmas cheer all year long. “You liked it?” she asked Ax.

  He nodded so quickly he might have given himself whiplash.

  “Liked it?” Dylan repeated. “That was insane.”

  “Dude.” Roman clapped a hand on her shoulder and he was beaming from ear to ear. “You’re amazing.”

  She lit up right before my eyes, and when she turned to face me, all I could do was glare at the sight of Roman’s hand on her shoulder.

  He took one look at me and dropped it.

  And then she gave me this cute little smile that was just for me. Kind of a ‘can you believe I did it?’ smile. I wasn’t entirely sure when her smiles started forming full sentences in my mind, but I liked it.

  I liked her.

  Roman’s statement had been a hundred percent accurate. Callie was amazing.

  “So, does this mean we’re really calling ourselves Peter Pan?” Ax asked.

  All of them started laughing, and Callie looked like she might fly. And not just because she was wearing wings.

  “I kind of like The Lost Boys,” Dylan said.

  “We need a name. Period.” Roman crossed his arms. Clearly, he was the leader here and Callie looked up at him like his next words might be the new gospel.

  “I say we go with it,” Ax said. “It’s a sign.”

  “The Lost Boys it is then,” Roman said. And as he did he wrapped an arm around Callie’s shoulder and she beamed at me.

  I might not have been the most book-smart guy in Lindale High, but I didn’t need anyone to explain to me that this surge of white-hot boiling rage inside me at the sight of Roman’s arm around her was jealousy.

  That was very inconvenient.

  I couldn’t recall being jealous of another guy once in my life. And why would I be? Again, not to be cocky but—I had it good.

  Except that Callie was lighting up like she wasn’t just an elf but like her insides were made of Christmas lights. And all because of Roman.

  But not for long. That guy might have good looks, and sure—a band—but he didn’t have anything on me.