24. VANESSA
VANESSA
Paris’s roommates aren’t home when we finally make it there.
His apartment is on campus, not far from where Andreas and Danny live.
The building is similar, with its red brick exterior and modern industrial style.
The apartment itself is spacious, with a big open kitchen and living room.
There’s even an area where they managed to fit a foosball table. Any other day, I’d want to play.
“Welcome to minha casa ,” he says.
Despite feeling wretched, I crack a smile. “Are you learning to speak Portuguese?”
He pulls me into his arms and kisses me on the cheek. “I’d do anything for you, kitten.”
“I know. I feel the same way about you. So… should I learn to speak Greek?”
He eases off and when I look up, I catch his exaggerated scowl. “You know I don’t speak Greek, right?”
“What? The smartest kid in All Saints never learned the language of his people?”
“Mock me all you want. Unlike your folks, my parents didn’t make Cory and me learn. They were too concerned about what the neighbors would say if they heard us speaking a foreign language.”
“That’s too bad. I can’t wait to speak Portuguese with you in front of them. Your mother will have a cow.” I laugh.
“Probably, if she doesn’t die of a heart attack when you come to my game on Saturday.”
Oh crap. His first game of the season. I forgot about it. I must have made a face, because his eyebrows furrow.
“You’re coming, right?” he asks.
“I… I don’t know. The Ravens also play on Saturday, and I need to be there.”
He closes his eyes for a moment and shakes his head. “Of course. I’m an idiot. Don’t mind me.”
“Let me know the time. Maybe I can make it to both.”
“All right.” An alarm beeps, and it’s coming from his pocket. He pulls his cell phone out and curses. “Shit. I have to go, kitten. Are you going to be okay?”
“Yeah. Don’t worry about me.”
“There’s food in the fridge. Help yourself to anything you want.”
I nod. “I’ll be all right. Go. I don’t want you to be late because of me.”
“Hold on, let me give you a tour of the apartment first.”
He takes my hand and veers toward the hallway. “The first door to your right is James Parker’s room. He’s one of the Rebels’ new recruits.”
“Yeah, I’ve seen him around.”
“Nice guy, but messy as hell. Don’t go in there if chaos makes your skin crawl.”
I wrinkle my nose. “How bad is it?”
“Bad.” He laughs, and then points at the door to our left. “This is Mark and Doug Ronson’s room.”
“Brothers?”
“Cousins. One is pre-med like me, and the other is studying Computer Science.”
“Gotcha. Brainiacs like you.”
“I’m not a brainiac,” he grumbles.
I snort. “Sure you aren’t.”
“Anyway, this is my room.” He opens the last door at the end of the hallway.
It’s a big space with a massive wall-to-wall window that offers a great view of campus. The king-size bed is set against a black wall with chalk scribbles all over it.
“What’s that?”
“Oh, that’s my brainstorm wall. I turned it into a blackboard so I can doodle, writes notes…”
I squint, “Draw dick pics…”
“What?” He walks closer and curses. “Those Ronson fuckers.” He tries to wipe off the drawing with his fingers, but all that does is make it blurry.
“Was that supposed to be a picture of your dick? Because if it was, they got the size seriously wrong.”
He looks at me and smirks. “That they did.”
His dimples make an appearance, and I melt. I love when he smiles at me like that. He walks over and pulls me against his solid chest. Then he kisses me quickly on the lips before stepping back. “Hell, I wish I didn’t have to go to practice.”
“Yeah, me too. I’ll be here when you get back though.”
“That’s something to look forward to.” He kisses me again and then almost bolts out the door, taking all the happiness with him.
My heart becomes heavy again, as if it’s made of steel.
I’m suddenly bone tired, so I just stay in his bedroom.
I was supposed to see the team’s physio today, but I told her I wasn’t feeling well and rescheduled for tomorrow.
There’s no chance I’ll make it to the police station today either.
I haven’t changed my mind, but I have to be stronger mentally to face something I know will be brutal to my mental health.
I’m a mess, a veritable yarn-ball of guilt.
I’m letting my team down by not showing up for my checkup, by not answering their messages.
I thought I was stronger. I thought I could forget about what Ryan did to me and move on with my life.
But things aren’t that simple. Whether I like it or not, that bastard left a permanent mark on my soul.
Heather’s confession didn’t help either.
My guilt for not reporting him has doubled, despite the fact I’ve decided to rectify that.
Alone in Paris’s bedroom, I cry again. It seems that’s all I can do today. I’ve taken enough psychology classes to know that crying is part of the healing process, but all it does is make me feel weak and pathetic. I thought I was a badass, but maybe I’m a meek damsel in distress after all.
I end up falling asleep, and when I wake up, I see that it’s past seven p.m. I stay curled up in Paris’s bed though, not having the energy to move.
I bring my nose to his pillow because it smells like him, a mix of nutmeg, sandalwood, and leather.
It does give me some comfort, but my chest feels hollow, and it seems I’ll never be happy again.
God, now I’m having emo thoughts. What’s wrong with me?
The front door opens, and male voices warn me that two of Paris’s roommates are home.
I knew that the new guy on the team was rooming with him, but I had no clue who the other two were.
It isn’t like I kept tabs on who was in Paris’s life.
I was aware mostly of his relationship with Lydia and, as much as I tried to tell myself I didn’t care, the sight of them together always made my heart bleed slowly and steadily.
Since I’m no longer alone in the apartment, there’s zero chance I’m going to venture into the living room.
I’m glad that Paris has an en suite and I don’t need to go out there to use the restroom.
My stomach feels empty, but I can survive without eating.
I’m not sure I can keep anything down anyway.
I look at my phone just as a message flashes on the screen. It’s Sadie, asking if I’m okay. I type a quick reply, partially lying once again. Then I flip my phone down so I can’t see her answer and feel worse about my deceit.
I force myself out of bed to use the bathroom.
It’s spotless, which is a relief. Guys can be pigs.
When I catch my reflection in the mirror, I wince.
It’s no surprise that I look like a witch, with tangled hair and dark circles under my eyes.
The swelling on my face has lessened, but the area is bruising.
I can’t wait too long to report Ryan. I need the evidence that he hurt me.
And Paris will find out I lied to him today.
God, what a fucking mess I made. My eyes prickle as the urge to cry renews.
I bite the inside of my cheek to try to stop the waterworks, and then I search for a hairbrush.
Instead, I find a pink hair band. I step back, shoving the drawer shut fast, as if there were a snake in there. What else has Lydia left behind? I don’t want to succumb to retroactive jealousy, but that’s exactly what’s happening now.
“Kitten?” Paris calls from the room.
Shit. He’s back, and I’m on the verge of losing my mind again. He already saw me fall apart once today. I don’t want him to think I’m breakable.
“I’ll be right out.” I finger comb my hair, since I didn’t find a brush. It’s not much of an improvement, but better than nothing.
When I walk out of the bathroom, he’s sitting on the edge of the bed. His face splits into a broad smile, making my heart beat a little faster. The darkness swirling in my chest loses strength.
“How are you feeling?” he asks.
“Much better now.”
I walk over with the intention of sitting next to him. But he pulls me onto his lap and kisses me so sweetly that I might develop an addiction. Who am I kidding? I’m already addicted to him. I melt into his embrace, taking solace in his warmth and strength.
“I missed you,” he whispers against my lips.
“I missed you too.”
He eases back and looks into my eyes. “I’m going to sound cheesy as hell, but I can’t believe that you’re actually here. It feels like a dream.”
Hearing the man I love tell me that, it’s impossible not to melt. But at the same time, this moment feels bittersweet. There’s a burden in my chest, the lie I told him weighing heavily on my conscience.
Before he can read my soul’s torment in my gaze, I pinch his arm playfully.
“Ouch. What was that for?” he asks.
“To prove you aren’t dreaming.”
He narrows his eyes. “Oh, you’re playing with fire, kitten.”
In a blur, I go from sitting on his lap to flat on my back with Paris on top of me.
“What are you doing?” I ask through a laugh.
“There are other less painful ways to prove that I’m not dreaming.” He nuzzles my neck, sending goose bumps down my arm.
“You’re one horny dude, aren’t you?”
Resting on his forearms, he leans back. “That’s what happens when I have a girlfriend who looks like you. I can’t help myself.”
I knit my brows together. “Your girlfriend doesn’t look too hot right now.”
“Tell that to my cock.” He gyrates his hips, pressing his erection against my core.
Humming, I close my eyes. “Okay, I’ll pretend I believe you.”
“Believe me, kitten. No one has ever put my libido into overdrive like you do.”
“Like you have so many to compare with me,” I blurt out, then regret my words immediately when I see the constricted look on his face.
He rolls off me onto his back and stares at the ceiling. Shit. I should have kept my mouth shut.
Leaning on my elbow, I say, “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry.”
“I’m actually glad that you did.” He looks at me. “I didn’t know how else to talk about it without sounding like an ass.”
“I don’t follow.”
He sighs. “Lydia wasn’t my first.”
“Oh.” Several emotions compete to take over my heart. I’m jealous of whoever “initiated” him, but I’m also glad it wasn’t that manipulative bitch.
“Yeah. I knew she wanted to be more than friends, and I wasn’t sure if that was what I wanted. The summer before freshman year, I went to visit my family in Greece, and that’s when I lost my virginity to some random girl I met at a party.”
“Do you even remember her name?”
He grimaces. “Will you think less of me if say that I don’t?”
“Uh, yes and no. I mean, I’m glad you don’t remember, because it means she doesn’t have any hold on you.”
He caresses my cheek with the back of his hand. “Kitten, only you have a hold on me.”
“Good. So does that mean you only slept with two girls besides me?”
“Ehhh…”
My jaw drops. “You dog! How many girls did you screw in Greece?”
“Oh, just the one, and only once. The others came later.”
My heart constricts painfully. He started dating Lydia at the beginning of freshman year. That memory is imprinted on my mind, because the sight of them holding hands obliterated me. I never pegged Paris as the unfaithful type, and even if he cheated on that viper, it doesn’t sit well with me.
“Don’t give me that look. I didn’t cheat on Lydia.”
Relief washes over me, but more questions pop into my head. “You’ve been inseparable since you started dating.”
“Not exactly. We were getting too serious too fast, and I freaked out. On spring break that year, I broke up with her. That’s when the other girls came into the picture, but before you call me a dog again, there were only two.”
“And then you went right back to that witch.”
“Yeah. Not the smartest decision I ever made.”
I rub the space between his brows, trying to smooth the lines there. “It’s over now. She’ll never come near you again if I have anything to say about it.”
He cracks a smile, and his eyes dance with glee. “Oh, what are you going to do, kitten? Fight over me?”
“If comes to that, hell yes. You’re mine, Andino.” I straddle him. “Don’t forget that.”
“Hmm, I think you’d better remind me with actions.”
I lean forward, touching his nose with mine. “Are you daring me?”
“You betcha.”