She spouted off the words, not comprehending what she was saying until it was already past her lips and lingering in the air between them.
“I’m not that petty of a person,” he said.
“How am I supposed to know?”
“You’d have to trust me.”
“I can’t,” she said. “I don’t trust people.”
“But you trust him?”
“I do,” she said, “and nothing you say will change that.”
“Fine, but that doesn’t mean you can’t trust me, too.”
She stared at him. Could she trust him? “I should go.”
She walked away, pausing briefly when he called out to her. “Haven? You look beautiful. Carmine may be an a**hole, but he’s a lucky a**hole.”
She smiled. “Thank you, but I think I’m the lucky one.”
* * *
After paying for the soda, Haven drove back to the DeMarcos’ house to find a new shiny sports car parked out front. As she opened the front door, she was about to call out for Carmine when there was a bang in the kitchen. “What f**king took you so long?”
She sighed, not bothering with an answer. If he was in a bad mood, nothing would change it.
She paused in the doorway to the kitchen, stunned at the sight of him. He had on a black suit with a blue tie and a pair of black Nikes. Carmine turned to her, his eyes instantly raking down her body as she set the soda on the counter and handed one of the cans of Coke to him. He took it carefully, his eyes never leaving her.
She turned to leave the room, her nerves getting the best of her, but Carmine grabbed her arm to stop her. “You’re breathtaking.”
His eyes flickered to her mouth, and he kissed her sweetly. She parted her lips, welcoming him to deepen it, but instead he pulled away. It had become a common occurrence the past few weeks, a consequence of his recent temperament.
He turned his back to her to fill a glass with ice as she headed for the family room, sitting on the couch and folding her hands in her lap to wait. Carmine strolled in after a minute and set his glass down on the table, a plastic container in his other hand. He pulled a blue and gold flower out of it and slipped it on her wrist. “It’s a corsage.”
“It’s beautiful,” she said, gazing at it.
The front door to the house opened, and Dr. DeMarco walked in. “That’s a nice car outside,” he said right away, forgoing any type of greeting.
Carmine sighed. “Don’t worry—I rented it. It’ll go back tomorrow.”
Dominic and Tess showed up a few minutes later, followed by a disgruntled Dia. They huddled outside to take some pictures. After a few minutes of cameras flashing, Carmine grabbed Haven’s hand and pulled her away. He hesitated at his car, scanning it for damage, before heading toward the rental. “I’ve always wanted a Vanquish. I feel like James Bond driving this motherfucker.”
“James Bond?”
“Yeah, you know—007, the secret agent?” She shook her head, and he sighed. “It’s a movie.”
“Sorry,” she said. “I’ve never seen it.”
“It doesn’t matter,” he said, motioning for her to get in. She wanted to believe him, but his frustrated expression told a different story.
The drive to the restaurant was quiet as Haven’s nerves ran amuck. After about thirty minutes, she couldn’t take the silence anymore and attempted conversation. “This is a pretty car. You couldn’t get one of these instead of yours?”
He laughed dryly. “This costs six times more than my Mazda. There’s no way my father would fork over a quarter-million dollars for a car. The only thing he’d spend that much on is a house.” He paused. “Or you, maybe. Don’t know how much he paid for you.”
His words stung. She blinked a few times, willing herself not to let her hurt show as she turned to stare out the window.
“And I guess it’s pretty, if you can call a car pretty.”
Haven didn’t speak the rest of the drive.
They arrived at the restaurant, and Carmine led her inside to join the others. He occasionally said something that rubbed her the wrong way while they ate, but someone would diffuse the situation before it spiraled. Haven wasn’t fond of this side of Carmine. It was a part of him she wasn’t well acquainted with . . . a part of him she didn’t want to know.
The waitress came by to make sure they had everything they needed, her eyes lingering on Carmine longer than necessary. He ignored her like he usually did, but Tess didn’t let it slide. “She could see your girlfriend sitting right beside you. Doesn’t she have any self-respect?”
Carmine shrugged. “Bitches can’t help it.”
Tess glared at him, his response not what she wanted to hear. “What the hell’s got into you?”
Carmine’s brow furrowed. “What are you talking about?”
“Your attitude, that’s what. It’s a damn shame, too. I almost liked you for a while.”
“Yeah, well, I never f**king liked you.”
Haven tensed at the hostility as Dominic hit the table with his fist. “Enough! I don’t know what your problem is, Carmine, but you need to figure it out. I’m this close to laying your ass out.”
Carmine glared at his brother. “What have I done?”
“Do you not hear yourself? You’re acting more and more like the old you.”
“I am not,” Carmine said.
“Yes, you are,” Dominic said. “And I’m telling you now—fix it. Haven deserves better than the way you’ve been treating her.”
Haven watched Carmine warily as he stared at his brother. The tension at the table was thick, and she started to panic. “I, uh . . . I need to go to the restroom.”
She stood, and Dia jumped to her feet to show her where it was. She breathed a sigh of relief once she was alone and stayed there until she calmed down. There was a tap on the door, and she expected to see Dia still waiting, but instead came face-to-face with Carmine.
“Can we talk, tesoro?” She nodded and followed him outside to the car. Carmine put the key into the ignition. “I didn’t realize I was being such an a**hole. I’ve had a lot on my mind.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
He sighed, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. “Not really. That probably makes me a bigger a**hole, but I just . . . can we start over? You finally get a chance to experience teenage shit, and I’m f**king it up. I should be groveling at your feet, thanking you for giving me this chance. You shouldn’t love me, but you do, and you don’t know how thankful I am for that, how much I appreciate having you in my life.”
She gazed at him with surprise. It was the nicest thing he had said in a while . . . possibly ever. “I’m glad I have you, too.”
“Good,” he said, starting the car as Haven put on her seatbelt. “And I’m sorry about the Nikes.”
“What about them?”
“Tess said they give the impression I don’t care, but I do. I just really like my Nikes.”
“I like them, too.”
He looked at her with the first genuine smile she’d seen grace his lips all evening.
* * *
The school gymnasium was decorated in white and gold, sparkling lights strung up all over the ceiling. A balloon archway greeted them inside, streamers and glitter covering everything. Carmine grimaced at the cheap decorations, while Haven was completely mesmerized. “It’s pretty,” she said, her words barely audible above the thumping bass of the song.
He chuckled at her enthusiasm. “Do you wanna dance?”
“I, uh . . .” She surveyed the crowd on the dance floor. “I’ve never danced.”
“Not true,” he said, pulling her in front of him with his hands on her hips. “We danced on Halloween.”
“That’s different,” she said. “You kind of just swung me in circles, and nobody was watching.”
“No one’s watching now.” He was lying. Eyes focused on them from all over the gym. “Besides, the only way to learn how to dance is by dancing, and I think I’m getting better at this teaching gig.”
They stopped along the edge of the crowd, and he pulled her against him, swaying them to the music. He leaned down with his lips beside her ear and sang along, his voice relaxing her.
Carmine moved her h*ps to the beat until she was able to keep rhythm on her own. She saw the curious onlookers watching, but Carmine’s warmth made her feel safe. They danced for a few songs before he led her over toward a table, grabbing two plastic cups and pouring punch in them.
They mingled with his classmates for a bit. Haven caught sight of Nicholas after a while with Lisa clinging to his arm. She avoided eye contact with him, focusing her attention on Carmine, but she could feel his gaze from across the room.
The punch eventually caught up to her, and she excused herself to use the restroom. She was washing her hands when the door opened, hostility filling the confined space as Lisa walked in. There was no way to leave without walking past her, so Haven shut off the water and took a deep breath. After drying her hands, she took a few steps in her direction.
“Excuse me,” she said, hoping she would let her go without trouble, but Lisa didn’t move an inch. “I’d like to leave.”
“I’d like you to leave too,” Lisa said. “Leave town, and leave Carmine alone.”
The way Lisa leered, getting pleasure from her pain, reminded Haven of Katrina and all the times she had kicked her when she was already down. There hadn’t been anything she could do about it then, but she didn’t have to take it anymore. Not here, not now. She wasn’t going to hand over control to people who wanted nothing more than for her to hurt.
“I said excuse me.” Haven took another step forward. Lisa didn’t move, so Haven bumped into her and grabbed the door. She swung it open and stepped out as Lisa gripped her shoulder. Haven turned around in enough time to see her make a fist.
Before Lisa could attack, arms jerked Haven away, and Nicholas absorbed the force of the punch in his chest. “Whoa, Laila Ali, watch where you’re swinging!”
Lisa sneered at him. “What did you call me?”
“She’s a boxer,” Haven said. “Muhammad Ali’s daughter.”
“Why are you talking?” Lisa asked, taking a step toward her. “Nobody asked you.”
“Hey now.” Nicholas tried to come between them, but he wasn’t quick enough. Lisa gripped Haven’s arm, tearing her corsage off and hurling it onto the floor. Nicholas intervened again, and Lisa stomped away as he picked up Haven’s flower.
She took it carefully as he smiled, but something was off about his expression, something that spiked Haven’s anxiety. “Is something wrong?”
“I’ve known the DeMarcos for a long time, you know,” he said. “We used to be close, and when you spend a lot of time with people, you learn things about them. Like . . . some of the stuff their family does.”