Waiting for Romeo Read online

  Waiting For Romeo

  by

  DIANE MANNINO

  Copyright © 2013 by DIANE MANNINO

  ISBN 10: 0989482812

  ISBN 13: 978-0-9894828-1-3

  Published by Diane Mannino

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

  For Olivia and Ella,

  Dream big and always reach for the stars.

  I love you to the moon and back.

  CHAPTER ONE

  THREE MONTHS AGO, I had never heard of Logan Prescott. Now, he’s in my every thought. As much as I try to forget about him and the pain he caused me; I can’t. Damn him for doing this to me, but part of me feels like I only have myself to blame. I repeat, only a part of me…a small part of me. If I’m being honest with myself I saw the red flags, he told me about his past, and I knew Sebastian and Seraphina were bad news. But despite all my reservations, I got involved with him. And by involved, I mean fell in love with him. Now, I need to get him out of my head.

  Christmas is depressing, but it isn’t the first time. After my mom died, Christmas was never the same. As much as my dad and I tried to make the best of it, it was far from the most wonderful time of the year. The reality of it: I would prefer getting my wisdom teeth out. At least, they give you laughing gas and enough meds to make you numb to the pain.

  My medicine is running. It has always been and for three weeks I run more than I have ever run in my life. It helps. Well, it helps a little bit. My dad tries to get me to surf with him but I’m not interested. It reminds me of Logan. I listen to music. Songs remind me of Logan. I read. Books remind me of him. I can’t even look at my laptop. The last time I powered it up, I saw that I had at least fifteen emails from him. I quickly slammed it shut. Sure, I’m tempted to read what he has to say, but I can’t. I’m not ready to go there. Everything reminds me of him but running keeps me somewhat distracted.

  The worst time of the day has always been nighttime. When I get in bed and it’s completely dark, I stare at the ceiling. There’s no escaping what’s in my head. It’s like I’m trapped on one of those rides at the amusement parks. You know the one, where the bottom drops and you are plastered to the wall while you spin so fast your vision is blurred. I hate those rides. Now, I’m stuck on it every single night…and I thought my sleepless nights were bad before!

  Of course, I have Bryn. She calls me constantly and only mentions Logan as “he who shall not be named.” The first time she made her silly reference to Voldemort from Harry Potter was the first time I laughed in days. She was so thrilled with herself that she now tries to come up with other clever nicknames for him. I guess she figures douchebag and asshole don’t conjure up as many laughs. She begs and pleads and begs some more to get me to go out with her. She even invites me to go with her family to Aspen for part of break. I’ve turned her down so many times I’m pretty certain she went into shock when I finally agreed to come to her family’s house in Malibu for her first annual New Year’s Eve party. She calls it her first annual, although it might be her only New Year’s Eve party. She says she likes the sound of it.

  It’s the morning of Bryn’s party when I’m lying in bed. I think I actually got more than a couple hours of sleep. I stayed up most of the night having a movie marathon with my dad. After he jokingly referred to me as “Forrest Gump,” he was speechless when I told him I had never heard of the movie. He quickly switched on Netflix. But when I read the synopsis of that movie, I knew I couldn’t handle a tearjerker. He agreed to give me a reprieve on that classic and decided to educate me on classic comedies. We stayed up most of the night and watched, “This is Spinal Tap,” “The Big Lebowski,” “The Jerk,” and “Monty Python and the Holy Grail.”

  I don’t know what I notice first: the warmth in my hair, the arm gently sprawled across my waist or the leg wrapped tightly against mine. Maybe it’s everything at once. I don’t know but I do know it only takes me a split second to push myself up and out of his grasp.

  “Wha…what do you think you’re doing?” I stammer as I pull up the sheets to under my chin, covering my spaghetti-straps on my nightgown.

  “I wanted to see you.” Logan says, in a matter of fact tone.

  “Well, you’ve seen me. Now go.” I can’t comprehend his audacity.

  “I just flew three thousand miles to see you. I miss you and I know I’m not worthy of you, but I can’t stand the thought of losing you.” He caresses my thigh and for a second I am rendered speechless.

  “Are you insane? You think it’s okay to come here and just crawl into bed with me? Seriously, get out.” I hiss, while repeating the mantra in my head, do not succumb to his charms…do not succumb to his charms.

  “Please, baby. We need to talk. You won’t respond to my emails or my phone calls so here I am. Please, let’s talk.” He whispers as he slides up closer to me.

  “There’s nothing to talk about…you fucked up…end of story. Now, please. Get. Out. Of. My. Bed.”

  He reluctantly climbs out and sits in the chair that’s in the corner. He leans forward and rubs his hands through his hair. The thought that I’d like to run my hands through his beautiful, tousled hair and taste his lips on mine pops into my mind and I quickly push it to the back. Can I not be near him for a few minutes without thinking about running my hands through his hair and pulling him to my mouth? Ugh!

  “I know and I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” He says as he leans back in the chair, looking desperate.

  But I can’t let him get to me. I sigh. “You’re right. It won’t happen again. Please, you should leave.” I pull up my knees and squeeze them tightly against my chest. Hoping they will work as a barrier that will keep him from getting too close. I add before he can say anything, “Does my dad even know you are up here?”

  “He let me in.” He moves from the chair and sits on my bed, facing me. Thanks, Dad!

  I pull my knees closer to my chest. “You should go.” I say, looking downward.

  He reaches and gently pulls my chin up so that I’m forced to look in his eyes. “Let me take you to breakfast.”

  “No.” I say, firmly.

  “I want to spend New Year’s with you. You don’t feel like talking now? How about tonight? I’ll pick you up at six.”

  “I have plans with Bryn.” I say, relieved now that I did agree to go to her party. I need her and a margarita or two after this morning’s ambush.

  He sighs. “You aren’t making this easy.”

  “Did you think I would?” I say, a bit too smugly.

  “No, but I was hoping.” He pauses a beat and continues, “I thought you believed in second chances.” He smiles that ghost of a smile, making my heart skip a beat.

  “Second chances? You gave Sebastian a second chance and look how that turned out.”

  He sighs. “I see your point, but this is different.”

  I shake my head. “Please…you should go.”

  “Emilia, I need you. The last few weeks have been hell. Can’t you see I’m in pain here? It kills me that I hurt you…the one person I care about the most. I love you.” He leans forward and gently caresses my cheek.

  I blink away the tears I feel surfacing in my eyes. “Love? You have a funny way of showing it.” I hear my words and I’m surprised I have the strength to say them. The expression what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger immediately enters my mind.

  H
e looks distraught and annoyed at the same time. “Yes, I love you. I’m sorry I hurt you. Emilia, I promise I will do everything to prove to you how sorry I am and how much I need you.”

  I take a deep breath and the oh-too-familiar feeling of tears welling up in my eyes resurfaces. I swallow. “I can’t.” I pause. “I can’t trust you.” I say because I know this is true and for us to work…we need trust.

  “Can’t or won’t?” But before I have time to respond, he continues. “I will do whatever it takes to get you back. Just tell me you’ll give me a chance.” His eyes are locked on mine as he wipes a stray tear from my cheek.

  In just a few months, he has brought so much meaning to my life. But I know we won’t work. I can forgive, but I can’t forget.

  “I don’t think I can forget.” I stammer. “I thought we had something special. But I know now that we won’t work. You need someone…” I swallow and whisper, “Someone…like her.”

  He looks shocked. His beautiful blue eyes are full of sorrow; a pained look when you have lost someone you love, dearly. I know this look.

  “Emilia, I. Need. You. You brought meaning to my life.” He breathes as he gently strokes my cheek.

  I shake my head. Trying to regain what little composure I have left. “No.” I say, softly.

  “Do you hate me for what I did?” He asks, with a fearful look in his eyes.

  “I don’t hate you, Logan.” I whisper. I think I wish I did because maybe it would make this easier.

  He exhales. I think he must have been holding his breath, waiting for my response. He takes my hand in his. I want to pull it away, but I sit, drained of emotion.

  “But you can’t try?”

  “I did try. I tried not to, but I did. I told you things that I’ve never told any other guy. Things that I don’t like to talk about…things I don’t talk about.”

  “Not everything.” I know he’s referring to the rape.

  I ignore him and continue. “You made me feel safe, but when I gave you my heart you ended up breaking it.”

  “I’m sorry, baby. I know I can fix it.” He whispers.

  “The damage is done. There’s nothing you can do…or say.” I know we are at an impasse. He can’t convince me even though a part of me…a big part of me…would love to throw my arms around him and say hooray for second chances. I’ve always been a sucker for happy endings, but over the years I’ve grown accustomed to tragedies. I’m sure that’s why I’m such a fan of “Romeo and Juliet,” “Macbeth,” and “Othello.”

  I quickly add before he can respond. “Besides you’ll forget about me in no time.”

  “I don’t think so.” He shakes his head. “You are in my every thought. I see you when I open my eyes. I see you when I close my eyes. I will never forget about you.” This sounds all too familiar.

  I sigh. “There’s nothing more to say.” I climb out of bed. I feel his eyes burning into my back as I pull out my running clothes from the top drawer of my dresser.

  “Running from me again?” He looks defeated when I turn to look at him.

  “I should have run from you from the start.” I immediately feel guilty, but I’ve already said it.

  His eyes are full of hurt. “Don’t say that.” He says, softly.

  I shrug. “I’ve got to go…sorry you wasted your time coming here.” I say in a matter of fact tone. But I can hear my voice crack and I know if he doesn’t leave soon I will be in tears again.

  Logan stands and moves closer to me. I am frozen in place, wishing I could step away from him but I can’t. He reaches up and softly brushes my hair off my shoulder. His fingers move from my hair as he slowly glides them down my neck, along my arm and back again. My body craves his soft touch and I feel that familiar tingling sensation rising inside me.

  “You are so beautiful. Is this new?” His fingers delicately lift one of the silk spaghetti straps.

  I nod. I’m lost in thought. I know he’s referring to my silk Victoria’s Secret nightgown. It was one of the many gifts from Bryn. She teases me non-stop about my usual bedtime attire: old Hanes tanks and my well-worn sweats. I was reluctant to keep the gown, but Bryn was so adamant about how they make you get a good night’s sleep. I’m pretty sure she made that up, but hey I’ll try anything if there’s a chance it’ll help with sleeping. I tried them on and quickly discovered what all the fuss was about. It’s like slipping into a cool liquid. Now, if she only knew Logan was admiring her purchase. She would not be so pleased. I can’t help but laugh and I quickly snap back into reality.

  “I miss that.” And I know he’s referring to my laugh. “Before I got distracted, you said you were sorry you wasted my time?”

  “Yes.” I say, not sure where he’s going with this.

  “I can assure you that you are never wasting my time. Incidentally, was this a gift?” He says as he slowly glides his hands along the small of my waist.

  I snap out of it and step out of his grasp. “Yes.”

  “From?” He asks and I know why he’s asking but I refuse to give him peace of mind. I think that’s only fair.

  “I’ll leave that to your imagination.” I say, smartly.

  “You aren’t fighting fair, you know?” He looks wounded.

  “And, you are? You come here and crawl into bed with me. Is that fair?” I raise an eyebrow.

  He pauses a beat and then continues. “I’ll go now. If I stay I don’t trust myself to fight fair with you standing there in that…” He motions at my lingerie. “But if you change your mind…and I really hope you do…you know where to find me.”

  “That’s not going to happen.” I muster what little assertiveness I have left in me.

  “Maybe not about tonight, but you’ll change your mind about us. I can guarantee it.” These are the last words I hear before I make my escape into the bathroom and shut the door behind me.

  IN THE BATHROOM, my tired eyes stare back at me in the mirror. My eyes slowly fill with tears, but I will myself to stop them from falling. If I’m completely honest with myself, I’m overwhelmed with sadness, but I’m also pissed. Boy, he has a lot of nerve coming here and getting into bed with me! Did he really expect to show up here and that I would take him back with open arms?

  He looked so distraught, so lost. I’m not sure why this surprises me. I guess because he was the one who screwed up. He hurt me. Is it possible that he’s in as much pain as I am? I can’t even grasp that as a possibility. But holy cow, he sure is hard to resist even after what he’s done and the hurt he’s caused me. I’m certain he must have thrown himself into working out as much as I have with my running. His already muscular arms and flat abdomen looked even more cut in the charcoal grey fitted waffle knit shirt. I think about Logan’s hands on my face, my neck, my arm, around my waist and it makes me shiver.

  Obviously, I am far from being immune to his touch. The familiar feeling of pure, unadulterated desire sweeps through me whenever he’s near me. I thought or I hoped I wouldn’t have those feelings any longer, but there’s no doubt I still do. It is at this moment when I make a vow to myself: I, Emilia King, must not ever allow myself to be alone with Logan. I don’t trust him, but more importantly I don’t trust myself with him. Somehow I managed to thwart off his advances this morning, but I know now I am not certain about next time.

  Then the realization that every girl on campus wants him dawns on me. It certainly won’t take him long to get snatched up by one of the many eager girls vying for his attention, including Seraphina. This thought makes me want to vomit, and I quickly snap back into reality.

  I need to run, clear my head. Just as I change into my running clothes and pull my hair up into a ponytail, there’s a soft knock on the bathroom door. It startles me and I jump. Logan and his persuasion tactics are already in full force. I will not let him get to me.

  Opening the door, I brace myself for a quick sprint down the steps and out of the house. But my fast escape comes to a screeching halt.

  “Whoa, Emilia.”
My dad says as he catches me in his arms, keeping his balance.

  “Oh. Sorry, dad.” I say, my eyes wide with a surprised look.

  “Everything okay?” I feel his eyes searching mine.

  “Sure. Yes. Everything is good. Just headed out for a run.” I stammer.

  “Hm…okay.” He looks at me suspiciously and then adds. “Is Logan still here?”

  “No. He left.” I glance behind my dad to be certain of this.

  “So soon? He just got here.” I’m sure my dad knows something isn’t right.

  I have been less than forthcoming since I came home for Winter Break. Fortunately for me, he has somehow figured out I needed my space. Never prying for information, my dad has quietly stood by me, waiting for my silence to break.

  “Um. Yes.” This is all I can manage to say.

  “Honey, you’ve been moping around for weeks. I’ve given you space, but it breaks my heart to see you like this. Do you want to talk about it?” He asks, sympathetically.

  I gaze into his eyes, searching for a response. I let out a breath, not realizing I was holding it. “It’s Logan.”

  “I figured as much.” He smiles, warmly. “Would you rather not talk about it?”

  I shrug and pause for a minute. Then I say, “I just don’t think I can trust him.”

  “So he flew three thousand miles on New Year’s Eve to get you to change your mind?”

  I try, but fail to keep my mouth from curling up into a slight smile. “I guess so.”

  “Ah, there’s that beautiful smile. I’ve missed seeing it. I know it’s bad when Monty Python can’t even get you to crack a smile.”

  “I’m sorry, dad. I’ve ruined the holidays.” I say, softly.

  “Don’t be silly.” He says as he pulls me into a tight hug.

  And just when I think I have my feelings in check and I’m under control, I lose it again. Now my tears really start to flow. Hugging my dad close, the floodgates burst open. There’s no hiding my muffled sobs.