Chapter 45 Rosa
ROSA
It’s been two weeks since Mateo won in Singapore, and in those two weeks, I spent most of my time at home, anywhere but near him. After that incredible night, he told me he loved me, and he thought I didn’t hear it, but I very much damn did.
Right after he whispered those three words and went to shower, I crashed out and called Lana immediately.
I never would’ve thought he’d say those words to me.
He was trying so hard to push me away, with constant arguments and always making me feel that nothing else could happen between us besides meaningless, fun sex.
It was amazing. From the very start, our chemistry in bed was off the charts.
It was always a good time—incredible, more like.
But it was never more. There was no after-care.
I was lucky when I got cuddles, but we went back to our lives like nothing happened, like it was just a hookup.
And constantly feeling like this messed me up.
I was trying to get closer to him, but each time he just pushed me farther away. There were times he broke, when he told me about his dad, or how he felt at Moscardi in his first year, but those were rare.
Since I got so good at pretending, I tried to play it cool since that night, like nothing happened. I’m good at lying until he gives up being nice and demands I tell him what’s bothering me. I hope that won’t happen now, because how am I supposed to tell him that I’m afraid of falling in love?
And now, we’re in Austin, thankfully in a hotel room with separate beds. He booked the Splatter Paint Zone appointment for today, and we’re in the car, sitting in silence. Who would’ve thought?
“Rosa,” he calls out when we’re almost there.
“Yes?” I say, still looking out the window, fearing that if I turn towards him, I’ll see something in his eyes I don’t want. Something raw.
“Did I do something? You’ve been avoiding me since Singapore,” he says softly, and the disappointment in his tone twists my heartstrings. Damn him for seeing through me and knowing when I have a real problem.
“You didn’t. Everything’s okay. I’m just tired,” I lie, and by his sigh, I imagine he doesn’t believe me. I swear I’m trying, but it’s really hard.
We arrive at the huge building, and after he’s done taking some selfies with fans, we head inside. The employees take us to a changing room, where we can put on the white coveralls and goggles.
“Can you at least talk to me? You don’t have to tell me what’s wrong, but at least acknowledge that I’m here,” he says, now a little annoyed, which makes me annoyed as well.
Why can’t we talk things through normally? Oh, wait, maybe it’s because I’m being a coward and not telling him about my feelings. Well, what he doesn’t know about won’t hurt him, right?
“I know you’re here. I can see you,” I reply sarcastically, but he doesn’t appreciate it. Can’t a woman joke nowadays?
“And still, this is the most I’ve heard you talk in the last 14 days. You ran home. Don’t try to deny that you’re not avoiding me.” I slide into the coverall and put on the goggles, and watch as he does the same.
We stride into the rage room, where there are a couple of buckets of paint set up for us. The room’s already colorful, splashed paint can be seen all around the walls, and I know we’re about to make it even messier.
“Okay! I am avoiding you. Are you happy now?” I ask, then grab a paintbrush, and splash paint all over his front. His mouth falls open, then looks up at me with a shocked expression, knowing that I’ll pay for this. If we’re arguing again, at least make it fun.
“No! Because I don’t know why you’re doing that! So please, talk!” And as I predicted, he mimics my previous movements and throws a big splash of paint on me.
“I told you! I’m just tired. The season’s nearing its end. No big deal.” I walk closer to him and then paint a big X on his suit. I don’t know exactly why I did that, but it felt good.
“Oh, come on! Stop lying to me! I know you well enough to know when you’re lying. Just tell me what’s going on already!” He smacks my ass with the paintbrush, bringing a big gasp out of me. Did he really just—
“You want to know the real thing? I heard you in Singapore, Teo. I heard it when you whispered those three words in my ear. I wasn’t sleeping,” I say, my voice cracking ever so lightly.
“You…you heard it?” He backs up, and now he’s avoiding my eyes. See how the tables turn.
“I did. And I couldn’t stop thinking about it.
All you did was try to push me away ever since you discovered that I’m Chris’ niece.
And just when I’m resigned to the fact, accept that there’s no future for us and this is only sex, you drop this bomb on me.
” I raise my voice slightly, gesturing with the paintbrush in my hand.
“I… I don’t know what to say. I didn’t want to end up hurting you,” he says, hanging his head down, looking at the floor.
“And yet, you did. I wanted to get close to you. To try and turn this ‘relationship’ into something. Even a friendship. But you took a step back every single time I tried to pull you closer.” My voice breaks again, feeling the emotions swell up inside me. Fuck, I hate feeling like this.
“I was trying to protect you, Rosa. You saw how messed up I am. You deserve so much better than this.”
“You’re right. That’s one way to see it.
There are only six races left of this season, meaning our contract is almost over, and we can just go back to our lives, forgetting about this.
But, well, it is what it is, right? We signed up for this.
” I shrug, trying to sound indifferent, but I’m failing miserably.
He’s making me more and more angry. I’m not sure how long I can go on without snapping.
“We did. I just didn’t plan to fall for you on the way.”
I scoff, a bittersweet chuckle leaving my mouth. “Oh, you fell for me. And instead of acting on your feelings, you try to suppress them and tell me to fuck off and find someone else,” I say, raising my voice once again. How I love talking to men.
“Why are you acting like I’m some heartless fucker? That all this time, you didn’t mean anything to me?” He fights back, grabbing his paintbrush again.
“‘Cause that’s all I see, Mateo! That’s true, while sex was incredible, you never meant to develop feelings, and you’re still pushing me away, hoping that I’ll leave. You’re really selfish, you know that? Giving a shit about my feelings,” I spat, splashing another chunk of paint on him.
“You really think that? I do give a shit about your feelings, that’s why I’m trying to make you see who I really am! You think I faked this? Faked how I looked at you, faked how I touched you… You think I was acting all along?”
This argument is getting more and more stupid. We’re not getting anywhere, just dodging words at each other, and that’s just making me even more angry.
“Well, what am I supposed to think, Mateo? I was good when you needed a stress release, but other than that? You only told me you were having nightmares because I was there when you were having one. And drawing? I only knew that because I found your old sketchbook and you felt the need to tell me about it. I know basically nothing about you. And it’s infuriating me. ”
“You don’t need to know everything about someone to have feelings for them. But, you see, that’s how messed up I am. That’s why I was pushing you away. You deserve better.” He throws the paintbrush away, the anger from his voice fading. Oh, I’m not done, pendejo.
“You don’t get to tell me who I deserve, Mateo. I know what I want, and it’s you, so man up already and tell me how you feel!” When he doesn’t reply, I push him. I’m not letting this go now. “Answer me, Mateo, for god’s sake. Was this all for show? Or did it really mean something?”
“Of course it meant something, Rosa! Do you really think I was pretending this whole time? That I wasn’t scared for my life when Enzo told me you’re in the hospital? Or that after each and every race, you were the only one I wanted to see?” He lifts his head, anger creeping into his voice again.
“Then why are you so keen on pushing me away, huh? And don’t you dare say that I deserve better, cause that’s the—”
“Because I love you! Because I fucking love you, Rosalia,” he finally says, his voice breaking.
“I’ve never had such strong feelings for someone.
And that scares the shit out of me. I do mean it when I say you deserve better, but I really hope you’ll continue to be a stubborn woman and stick beside me, because I don’t think I could ever let you go now.
” He falls down on his knees in front of me, grabbing my coveralls at my waist, looking up at me with puppy eyes.
My mouth falls open as my brain tries to comprehend his words. So it is real. It has been real. And all this time, he dared to let me think I mean nothing to him other than a good fuck.
“You love me,” I repeat. He nods, now circling his arms around my waist, pulling me even closer. “They did warn me you’ll be a handful, but this is next level.”
I chuckle, falling onto my knees as well, facing him. “That’s all? Don’t you also want to tell me how you feel about me?” he asks, cradling my face in his hands.
I know he wants to hear it, but I think my eyes tell everything.
“You’re infuriating. Annoying, stubborn, hot-headed—”
“Okay, and any positives? Or are we going to sit here all day and list all the negative stuff about me?” I chuckle, tracing my fingers back and forth on his jawline.
“I’d say you’re pretty good at confessing your love to me.” I inch my face closer, our mouths now millimeters away, our breaths mingling. “I love you too, idiot.”
His eyes soften, his lips turning upward into a genuine smile. And with that, the world stops around us, and he pulls me into a never-ending kiss.