I woke up on the floor of Wyatt's suite. He was a few feet away from me, snoring like a bear. My hurt neck when I looked either way. I checked the clock and figured it was too early to wake him so I tip-toed my way back into my room.
Once I got there, I couldn't sleep anymore so I took my time getting ready. I took a very long bath in the bathtub, trying to rid myself of memories of my encounter last night with Nikolas.
One hour into my long regime as I was drying my hair, I cursed myself. "I'm horny," I mumbled the cold and inevitable. I took a moment to hate my teenage hormones before gathering enough willpower to get on with the day. Wyatt said that we'll do one of my favorite activities which involved spending a lot of his money shopping. It's one of the most fun things to do in the world for me and pretty convenient in timing since I wanted to arrive in NY with a thousand dollars worth of extra luggage fees.
After applying all products I could find which wasn't a lot to begin with as I didn't have much space to spare when I was packing, I felt better. But then I tried thinking of the true reason why I felt better: it was because I was with. him last night, even for just a while. Nikolas was the reason for everything: my sadness, my happiness, my fucking horniness which had me dragging my fingers down my chest.
I remembered exactly what he looked like last night. His hair had grown longer and the stubble beard on his face was an extra asset even though he was irresistible enough. I remembered how his hands held on to the cue stick and I remembered how he walked slow and how his eyes browsed the table, my face, my chest, my whole fucking body.
We hate him, Rose. Remember?
Shit. I stopped and groaned to let my frustration out. I dried myself off and shrugged a robe on. Before I could reach for my clothes to choose a fit for today, there was a knock on the door.
The same employee from yesterday greeted me with the same lovely smile.
Instead of a box of roses which, by the way, I kept in the bathroom so I wouldn't see, her hands were on a small cart which carried a tray of breakfast.
Pancakes, eggs, fruits, coffee, and a lot of bacon. The sight made my stomach rumble but what caught my eyes the most was the rose that sat beside the large platter.
"Don't tell me that came from the same guy who sent the flowers," I told the lady in a monotone voice.
She looked taken back, "Uhh..."
"Oh my god, " I decided to let her to bring the food into the room. She laid the meal on the table under the large TV and I thanked her before she left.
Hands on my hips, I stared at the food.
I glared at the food too despite my stomach's desire to eat everything. My phone rang and it took me a while to pry my eyes off the silver tray. Once I did, I read the message flashing on the screen.
Babe: enjoy
Butterflies conquered my stomach and I wanted to kill every single one. I hastily typed a one-word reply: stop.
My forehead was creased all the while I racked through my stuff to grab a muted purple romper. Once I had it on, I dried my hair and put some makeup on. Then, I glared at the food again. I was hungry as fuck.
It's almost like there's a big 'eat me' hovering over the tray in big, blinding, bold letters. After much internal debate, I gave in and feasted on the food with guilt not caused by carbs, but instead from knowing that Nick sent it.
Feeling deplorable yet physically satisfied, I grabbed my essentials and was about to head for the door when Wyatt buzzed the bell.
"Hey," I greeted when my brother stood through the doorway in a sweater and jeans.
His eyes landed on the empty plate, "Oh, you ate already."
"I got hungry so I ordered room service." I stepped out of my room and locked it behind me.
"You ordered a rose too?"
"I felt like giving myself flowers," I defended before we started walking down the hallway and to the farthest corner where an elevator was close by.
"How are you holding up with the Nathan thing?" he decided to ask.
"I'm feeling better," I hoped that my reassuring smile did its purpose. We waited for the elevator car and traveled
down.
The first thing we did was drive by McDonalds for Wyatt's breakfast and I apologized for eating without him.
"You seem much better now," my brother commented as he ate in the car.
Jared and I locked eyes in the rearview mirror. It lingered. "I am, I guess," I said.
Once we reached a big compound of commercial buildings housing numerous brands, I was like a bird set free.
I was able to forget about my concerns for a while as I burnt one edge of my brother's black credit card. I almost forgot how much I loved doing it.
In front of a dressing room mirror with a shiny black mini dress hugging my body, I looked at myself and marveled at how nice I looked. From my head of black hair to the tips of my toes, I stared at Rosaleen Martin and tried to remind her of who she was before she became a lovesick little puppy.
I didn't look any different but I felt different. I still had the same dark brown eyes. My lips were still the same, my skin has the same texture as years before too. Even my body proportions were the same. My name was still Rose and I still glance when it's called.
Then I observed closer. My eyes, despite having the same color, have cried a lot. My lips, still pink and soft, have tasted love. My skin which I've maintained over the years, has been touched and caressed in ways that made it feel fragile. The curves and lines of my body that people admire have been molded against a man close enough to feel his heartbeat.
On the dotted lines, the name was still Rosaleen, but at the mention of a man named Nikolas, I turn my head as if it were my name.
I smiled sadly at the girl in my reflection. I haven't admired her much these weeks.
The last time I felt like a complete goddess was on prom night, but do I have to be in heels and a silver dress to feel beautiful? No. I'm beautiful regardless of what I wear. Rhea was right. Maybe focusing on oneself can get me back up.
From being involved with Nick, there's one thing I'm absolutely thankful for and it's that learned how to love others.
I guess I was wrong when I thought that my heart didn't work because it was working well and fine. However, I had always only loved myself and my brother. After the couple of months I've been through, I managed to pour the affection hidden within me to other people. If I'm being completely honest, I love my parents too, despite their faults and flaws.
To love others doesn't mean that I should love myself less. I was only realizing that then and the realization brightened the sad smile of the girl in front of me.
A tear dropped from her eye but it wasn't necessarily out of sadness.
"Rose?" Wyatt knocked on the wooden divider, "You're taking too long. I'm bored."
"I'll be out in a minute!" I half-shouted before wiping the tear away and getting dressed back into the outfit I came in.
My brother was seated on a waiting bench, phone in his hands and eyes on the device. Beside him stood our driver with shopping bags of all sizes and colors around his feet.
"Are you getting that?" Wyatt asked as he got to his feet.
Was that even a question? "Yup"
After we paid for the overpriced piece of clothing, Wyatt and I walked side-by-side around the plaza.
"Thanks for today," I began, "I love you, Wyatt."
The affection that came from nowhere shocked him slightly. "I love you too, Rose, even though you put fifty Victoria's Secret items on my spendings list."
VS was overrated but I'm still a sucker for it. I laughed just as we stopped in front of a frozen yogurt stand. Trying for a cute gesture, I treated my brother to a big cup of frozen mango yogurt topped with graham crumbs. I, on the other hand, bought myself some strawberry yogurt which had my mind flying to Sean.
He's currently staying at his cousins' house just to spend some family time before he goes. This meant that I won't have any more chances of seeing him before the flight.
My mind also drifted to Aiden who agreed to be my date at the Spring Ball since his family's attending too. Then I leave the next morning.
By the time the sun was setting, the SUV was filled with paper bags from too many stores to count. Jared was instructed to take us back to WildeLight for dinner which turned out pleasant since we decided to dine near a pool with the food being strictly French cuisine.
Once dinner was done, I locked myself in my room and rummaged through the bags scattered on the carpet floor.
'Why did I buy this again?' the question crossed my head one too many times as I looked at the items one by one.
I got tired after an hour and decided to get ready for bed. On my way to the bathroom, my plans were cut short when a knock sounded from the door.
"Yes?" I asked as I swung it open only to have one Dick Camillo standing in the hallway wearing a white button-up and jeans.
Fuck me.
I closed the door in an instant and locked all three locks.
"Rose," he spoke through the door. Despite being apart, I didn't fail to hear his tired sigh.
"No. Bye. Goodnight," I turned the lights off and made my way to the bed.
I was waiting for his parting footsteps but instead heard him speak again, "Please let me in."
I stayed quiet and grabbed a soft pillow to wrap my arms around. "I can wait all night, you know," Nikolas added.
I instantly doubted him. You can't even spend a night with me, I wanted to say.
"Fine," he muttered before I heard his body slide against the door and sit on the hallway floor with a faint thump. Nikolas was still there after ten silent minutes of waiting. Wanting to see how long the man would last, I got up from the bed and headed to the bathroom for my shower.
I took my sweet time under the cold water and debated whether or not I should let him in. Of course I want to be with him, but there were too many complications that his presence carries.
I didn't want to lie and say that his proposal of spending time together before we forget each other for good didn't please me because it was very, very tempting. Through it, we'll be able to part on a good note.
I was three-fourths into saying yes and the only quarter keeping me from doing so was a mix of pride, guilt, and grudge. The three-fourths was stupidity. I snorted.
I got dressed in underwear and a big shirt before tiptoeing to the door and putting my ear against it. "Yes, I'm still here," said Nick which had me cringing. I silently walked to my bed and slipped under the white duvet.
Fuck. It's not like I could actually fall asleep knowing that the man I love was right behind my hotel room door. Glancing to the digital clock on the glass nightstand, the numbers read 10:05.
I let my phone compete for my attention for the next thirty minutes and it failed miserably. I was still fully aware that Nikolas is near and his patience was surprising me.
"Go away," I told him and as a response, he chuckled—a fucking sexy and teasing one that made my goddamn hormones excited.
Oh, have the tables have turned.
"I'm not letting you in, Nick," uh-huh, Rose, lie to yourself, "Leave."
Please leave before I get up and let you in.
And like a dumb jerk who can't form sensible arguments, he said, "I love you."
I glared at the door, hoping that it can penetrate through wood and reach the man behind it.
"This is gonna hurt real bad, Nikolas," my voice weakened at the end.
His name came out as a soft plea. "I know," he told me. In the dark, it's like I was lost and despite all my senses, the only thing I could pick up was the sound of his voice.
"That's when you know it's real," he added quietly.
Fuck you.
I gripped the soft duvet and listened as he voiced his thoughts, "We're stupid, Rose. We're stupid and we're careless. I want to make you feel what it's like to be first."
I was reminded of Nick's previous words, specifically what he told me the day I met Benjamin. 'You shouldn't settle with being second.'
The ring on his finger always reminded me that I'm second. Just when he was about to throw everything away and presented the possibility of finally making me first, things just had to go wrong.
I felt like crying but oddly enough, I didn't.
My brain flew out the window again, falling fifty feet down and splattering to the ground. I kept quiet and decided to let him wait some more. If he's still there by midnight, I might let him in.
I waited in agony and he waited patiently with a heart full of hope. I guess Nikolas knew me too well. He knew I'll give in.
The minutes went by until the moon reached its peak. I got up and walked to the door, not bothering to do it quietly this time. My lower lip was between my teeth as my fingers fiddled with the locks.
From the other side, I heard movement and I'm assuming Nick had just stood up. Before I could change my mind, I pulled the door open. Nikolas regarded me with the softest expression on his masculine face. I stepped to the side as a silent invitation to let him in.
"Thank you," he whispered as I locked the doors. My guts suddenly weighed tons and my legs felt like they might give out. Nikolas's presence was suffocating and intimidating as he stood to his six-foot-something height which towered behind my much shorter one.
He walked to the middle of the room, his eyes probably adjusting to the darkness.
Not trusting being in the dark with Mr. Camillo, I flipped the switch for the wall lights behind the bed.
Which turned out to be a bad idea because the bed glowed as if saying 'Hey, feel free to fuck each other's brains out her.'
"Nice room," he mumbled lamely.
"Are you staying here too? In the resort, I mean."
"Yes," he licked his lips, "Second building, 103."
I wanted to ask him what excuses he's been telling to his wife but thought better than to bring Bianca up.
Bianca. There's that damn name again.
He looked around the room again, "Where are the flowers?"
"I threw them away."
Uh-huh, just don't look in the bathroom because 'throw away' means right beside the sink.
"Oh," he frowned, "Okay."
"Are you here to talk again?" I asked the man. The distance between us made me feel awkward, but being too close would be perilous.
"If that's what you want," Nick told me.
"Nikolas, I don't know what I want," I sounded tired, annoyed, and confused, all of which I was.
Nick stepped forward and I held my breath, "Are you sure about that?" he asked.
"Yes... no... fuck you," I folded my arms in front of my chest and glared.
"Is that what you want?" his serious expression turned amused as a thick brows bounced up.
I glared harder. "No. I want you to go home to your wife and take care of the child you made."
Nikolas looked like he'd been slapped across the face. I gulped and watched as the man brought his eyes elsewhere—anywhere else but my face.
"I'll do that once you leave," said Mr. Camillo.
"Why not do it now?"
He didn't answer my question and instead chose to say "I can't let you go knowing that you hate me. I need to show you that I love you."
"You don't need to do anything for me," I argued.
Nikolas chuckled humorlessly. "You remember when things were the other way around?"
"How can I forget? You were one stubborn fuck. You're still stubborn."
"I wasn't the only stubborn one," he looked at me again, "Tell me you don't love me, Rose."
Pulling my own tricks on me, Mr. Camillo?
"I shouldn't have let you in," I walked to the window, peeking through the curtains, "You can leave now."
"I wanna hear you say you don't love me," was his petty response. He walked towards me and although I couldn't see him, I know he stopped close behind me.
"I don't love you, Nick."
The next set of words that left his lips were random as fuck. "Dance with me," he said.
I turned to face him with the oddest look on my face. Without hesitation, he took my hands in his and locked them behind his neck. His own held my sides and he stepped forward once more to close the space between us.
Then we swayed. It should've been awkward since there was no music and it was the most random thing to do. However, I found myself getting lost in—I know, cliche—his eyes; his face, his lips, every curve and spot of skin on his face.
In the gentlest voice Nikolas Camillo could speak in, he said, "I owed you a prom dance."
The desire to dance with Nikolas crossed my mind that night, but I ignored it knowing that it wasn't gonna happen. We swayed to the beat of sweet silence. The rhythm was laced with sadness but our movements were driven by love.
"Now tell me you don't love me," he whispered before his eyes fell to my lips. Fuck.
I was going to lie and say that I didn't love him but the words died in my throat. I opened my mouth just for my voice to back out last second.
I've said it before and I'll say it again: I don't think I'll ever get tired of Nick's lips.
When his mouth met mine, he tasted more sinful than ever. He also tasted like love and bounded joy.
"I missed you," he whispered against my lips before pecking my forehead.
Lip-locked in a passionate kiss, we made our way to the bed where Nick sat on the edge. He pulled me closer to stand in between his legs. As my fingers explored his head of brown hair, his own caressed my hips.
I wasn't thinking straight. Heck, I wasn't thinking at all. I was pretty much brain-dead as my fingers worked the buttons of his shirt. Nikolas was stupid too when he pulled my shirt over my head, leaving me nearly naked if it weren't for the black fabric barely covering my privates.
I pushed his shirt off his shoulders and he stood to pull his pants down. Somehow, our stupidity brought us under the covers, butt-naked like the days we were born.
The familiar weight of Nikolas's body on top of mine had me squirming in anticipation of our next stupid moves. His lips left kisses on my neck and on my jaw, tongue darting out to lick the best spots.
Shrewdness truly was a killjoy to stupid endeavors because just as Nick's lips came back to mine, I thought of the night before prom—the night he claimed to have sex with his wife again.
"Wait," my voice was weak because my body didn't want to stop, "Nick, stop."
He tensed on top of me before pulling his lips away. I grabbed his shoulders and pushed him inches away.
"What's wrong?" his face softened while his eyes scanned my face for a valid reason.
Is this what Bianca saw that night too?
Nikolas's naked body on top of hers?
Did he kiss her the way he's kissing me?
Did she love the way he feels deep inside as much as I do?
"I-I can't do this," I rubbed my eyes which started to water.
"Rose, I'm sorry," he spoke gently as he pulled himself away and settled beside me. An elbow held him up as he laid on his side, assessing the situation.
"It's fine, I just..." I sat up and pulled the blanket to my chest, "Can we not?"
"Of course, baby," he sat up and watched me intently. The concern on his face made me weak.
I rubbed my eyes, remaining silent for a while. The sad thought triggered the emotions I've been dealing with for the past two weeks.
"You wanna sleep?" Nick asked after much observation. I nodded yes and turned the dim lights off.
I was probably gonna hate myself the next morning for letting the man stay the night with me, but right then, I didn't want to think too much into anything. I settled back on the bed, laying on my side and felt Nikolas do the same. He sounded cautious when he asked, "Can I hold you?"
"Yeah," my answer came as a whisper.
A second later, I felt Nick's bare chest against my back and his arms around my waist and shoulders. Tout de suite, I relaxed against him. All nagging thoughts were pushed to the edges of my brain as I let myself enjoy the comfort and company that the night offered. Absentmindedly, my fingers caressed Nick's arm, fingertips grazing the hair sprinkled on his forearm.
"Goodnight," I told him.
I felt his lips kiss the back of my neck, "Goodnight."
For the first time ever, Nikolas Camillo spent a night with me.
-
Rose, you stupid motherfucker.
That was my initial reaction when it dawned to me that the muscular arms around my waist belonged to a sleeping Nikolas Camillo whose nakedness made my invisible panties wet and warmth made my stomach tingly.
From sleeping on my side, I turned to lay on my back. I faced Nikolas's slumbering face with the intention of waking the bloke up. My harsh morning words, however, were pulled back into my throat when I saw him. The sunlight which flooded through the windows did wonders to Nick's already amazing face. The man's long lashes almost reached his cheeks. He breathed softly through parted lips which looked temping with their pink tint and patent softness. Overall, the sight of Nikolas was breathtaking.
Mr. Camillo stirred slightly as his eyes moved behind his eyelids. Then, they fluttered open. He blinked a few times. I blinked too. We were enveloped with silence that one of us eventually has to break.
"Good morning, beautiful," he said blankly.
I was going to tell Nikolas to get the fuck out of my room when someone knocked on my door. Our eyes widened and we evidently paused when we heard Wyatt's voice, "Rose?"
One second we were a tangle of limbs on the hotel bed and the next we were cursing under our breaths as we gathered Nikolas's clothes.
"Fuck." I swore as I started pushing him to the nearest hiding place I saw: a wardrobe.
"Hide, quick," I frantically said before swinging the cabinets open and literally shoving a naked Nikolas in. He had his clothes in his hands and the most comical expression on his pretty face. Nick didn't protest and instead remained quiet when I closed the cabinets, slipped my shirt, my panties, and some shorts on and went to open the door.
"Hi," I greeted Wyatt.
He eyed me top to bottom. "You aren't dressed yet? We have a big day ahead of us."
"I couldn't sleep last night so I woke up late," I reasoned, "I'm about to take a bath. I'll see you downstairs in thirty minutes?"
My brother huffed in exasperation. "Fine. I'll have to fine Jared anyway," he shrugged, "be quick."
I slammed the door in his face and locked all the locks.
"Damn it," I whispered to myself when I stormed to the wardrobe and pulled the doors open.
Butt-naked Camillo stepped out and let his clothes fall to the floor. Glaring, I folded my arms in front of me. I guess I wasn't intimidating enough because Nikolas expressed his entertainment with a smirk.
The fact that he's naked bothered me too much. I wasn't able to stop my eyes from peeking at Nick Jr.
I have a hard time not staring when people are naked, okay? it's not just him.
"My eyes are up here," he teased.
I felt my cheeks warm up. I forced an angry voice, "Get dressed."
"You're blushing again, Rosaleen," said Nikolas who thought it'd be a great idea to tip my chin up with a finger.
"That's because it's hot," I glared harder and hoped that I don't look like some angry cartoon troll.
Wanting to push me further, Mr. Camillo stepped closer, "Let's shower then."
"I think the fuck not. Get dressed and leave," I shoved him away, "I don't wanna see you ever again.
Now I just have to convince myself that.
-
Apparently, I wasn't able to convince myself.
Wyatt and I went horseback riding which I was shitty at. My horse, a brown one named Jitter, deserves an award for his patience because I spent our first thirty minutes trying to get him to move in a straight line.
I didn't want assistance from anyone because I wanted to channel my inner Merida, but the world just didn't want me to be a Disney princess.
Because if you were, then parents would be rallying in front of Disney asking why the fuck their children are cursing.
I enjoyed the three hours of struggle even though it was three hours of struggle. The facilitator that Wyatt asked to teach me was a woman in her mid-twenties who kept telling me to sync my soul with Jitter's. Whatever the fuck she meant, I sure as hell wasn't able to do it.
After I said my goodbyes to Jitter and promised to work on my temper, my brother and I had lunch at the restaurant where I first met Charlotte. Then, we boarded Arabella. The white and maroon yacht that never fails to light my eyes up with admiration looked as spotless and as pretty as the last time I saw her.
I expected myself to cry or be sad after remembering that my last memory on the pretty boat was of my triple date with Nikolas and Bianca. My expectations were proven wrong when I realized that I felt neutral about it. My mood hasn't been as negative as usual and the only explanation I can come up with is that I spent time with Nikolas and a part of me knows that I'll spend time with him again tonight.
As we sailed and played lofi music in the background, my mind wondered what other tricks Nikolas had up in his long sleeves.
Wyatt and I also had dinner on the boat which was amazing as it was relaxing. He informed me that Charlotte would be joining our adventures the next day and I expressed my approval through words and a kind smile. It was around ten o'clock when we made it back to The WildeLight.
Like the previous night, Wyatt walked me to my room before he retreated to his own. Once my door was locked and I was all alone in the comfort of my space, I grabbed the phone in my pocket to read the text that Nikolas sent one I received on the drive home which had bile rising to my throat.
Babe: be there at 1030
And I glanced at the time on the top corner of the tiny screen to see that it was 10:25.
If I make a run for it now, I won't be here when Nikolas arrives.
But do I want to make a run for it?
I sighed and decided to face whatever the hell is coming my way. I'll have all the time in the world to move on when I arrive at New York.
I think.
I mentally and emotionally prepared myself for what's about to happen once Nikolas Camillo knocks on the brown door. I've always felt nervous around Nick—something that I don't feel around other men. Shit, even from the start he was already special to me.
The start. I suddenly missed the Rose who had the most devious ploys. I missed the times when I had controlled situations and stable feelings.
But I'm still Rose, aren't I?
I was the freshman who made senior jock and playboy Michael beg on his knees for a date. I was the sophomore who received fifteen bouquets of flowers one Valentine's Day. I was the senior who fucked her principal during lunchtime.
The knock on my door informed me that my former principal had arrived. Head held high and chest puffed out, back arched and swing of my arms confident at my sides, I opened the door.
Nikolas Camillo was a sight for sore eyes, but these sore eyes decided to land on red—the rose he held.
"Good evening," he said blankly before holding the flower in between us. The man looked more casual tonight in only gray joggers and a white shirt under a black jacket. He obviously came straight from his own suite.
I stared at the flower and instead of taking it, I muttered a "Come in."
Nikolas licked his lips before he let his hand fall. Once the man was inside, I locked the door. Nick walked cautiously into the dimly lit room and was about to sit on the end of my bed when I stopped him, "You don't get to touch that bed anymore."
He stood and held his hands up in defense. He laid the lone rose on the bed and the sight sure seemed romantic: a big bed, warm lights behind it, and a rose in the middle.
"You can take the floor, Mr. Camillo," I told him loud and clear.
Nikolas gave me a questioning look but thought better than to voice his queries aloud. Instead, he sat on the floor, back against the wall opposite my bed.
I slipped my shoes off and sat in the middle of said bed.
"How was your day?" he decided to ask after moments of staring in silence.
"Fun," I spoke a single word.
"Great," he nipped at his lower lip and I found myself wishing that I could do the same, "I'm sorry for this morning."
My reply came after a beat, "Apology noted."
"You're going to the Spring Ball?" Nikolas once again attempted at a conversation.
"Yes. You?"
"Uh-huh," he answered. We stared at each other for a while, trying to read what's on the other's mind.
I did want to spend time with Nikolas and since there were only three days left. Once I leave it'll all be over anyway, right? I tried to decipher exact thoughts I can gather from his expression and I came up with none. All I saw was tiredness—the type you get from a fucked body clock. That's enough to tell me that he's been struggling.
"I have a question," I began, voice softer this time.
"Ask me anything, baby," he rested his head against the wall as he watched me with sad adoration.
"When was the last time you drank?"
His answer came quick and sure, "Prom night."
"Good," I commented. If he drank and I was the reason, the guilt would've killed me. At least Nikolas is better than that now.
"I didn't want to disappoint," he said, "but I still did anyway."
"Haven't you heard, Mr. Camillo?" I gnawed at the inside of my cheek, arms crossing automatically in front of me,
"Life's a bitch."
"Yeah, but I was still hoping that she'd like me," he fiddled with his fingers and I tried to decipher why it looked odd. "Man, was I wrong."
He cracked his knuckles and that's when I realized: the ring was gone.