Page 132 of Party Favors

Then he said, “What were you going to tell me earlier? You said ‘you could’ before I interrupted you.”

“Oh. You said you didn’t know how to start, and I was going to say that you could start at the beginning.”

“Right.” He nodded, sliding his phone back into his pocket. “So the night we met at the bar. I saw you crying and how sad you were. When I saw you smile at Basta, it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. And the only thing I wanted in that moment was to keep making you smile.”

“Oh.” I seemed to be saying that a lot lately. My nervous system was short-circuiting and my heart was thrashing around so hard in my chest I was sure it was going to disconnect itself from some important veins and arteries.

“I dream in Italian. Sometimes I hear someone speak and I translate it into Italian and then back into English. Which I know makes no sense, but I do it. I did live in Monterra for years while my father was the ambassador there. It’s where I went to high school. Italian was my primary language for a long time. Monterra feels like a second home to me, but I am American. And like I said, when I get around peoplespeaking it, like everyone in that sports bar, I pick it up without realizing it, including the accented English.”

He had already explained this part of it—that the accent had been accidental because of his environment.

“So I didn’t set out to deceive you. I was speaking that way without realizing it. And when you pointed it out and you were so happy at the idea that I was Monterran, well, I didn’t want to take that away from you. I figured it couldn’t hurt anything. I didn’t expect to see you again.”

“But then you left your phone and coat behind.”

A wry smile from him. “And now some part of me wonders if my subconscious did it deliberately because despite me thinking I wouldn’t see you again, I really wanted to. I’d had so much fun talking to you and I wanted it to continue. I wanted to see you again.”

My heart was bonging loudly in my chest, strong enough to reverberate through the rest of my body.

“And again and again. And even when you said you were only interested in being friends, I kept coming back because I knew I wanted more. I knew that you were scared, but I wasn’t sure why. But one thing I was certain of—I thought that if I told you the truth, that I wasn’t from Monterra, you would stop spending time with me. I didn’t want to lose you. You told me the first night we met how much you hated people lying to you—that you couldn’t tolerate it. I couldn’t see a way to tell you and not lose you. It was selfish of me.”

“You know, there’s something Vella recently shared with me,” I said.

“The beauty pageant thing?” he asked.

My eyebrows lifted. “How do you know about that?”

“She showed me. I think when I was sharing with her about you and our situation, she felt obligated to return the favor. And she said she assumed you would tell me eventually, anyway.”

I shook my head. I would have kept her secret. “She didn’t want me to know about it because she thought it would change how I saw her. And it wouldn’t have. I would still like her regardless. It wouldn’t havechanged anything. I would have liked you and wanted to be with you even if you weren’t from Monterra.”

“It’s more than that,” he said. “You were the first woman I’d ever dated who’d never heard of me.”

“Because Max Colby doesn’t exist,” I reminded him. His country of origin wasn’t the only thing he’d lied about.

“I know. I’m sorry about that, too. My whole life people wanted to be friends with me because of who my parents are. Paparazzi used to follow all of us around constantly. Especially during my parents’ divorce. Arabella loved it and couldn’t get enough of it. My ‘friends’ loved the money, the lifestyle, the attention. What I could give them instead of who I was. Since moving to New York, I’ve been using Max Colby. And you liked me. Not Maximilian Wainscott. You don’t know what that means to me.”

I wanted to comfort him, so I followed my instinct and reached out and took his hand. He gripped me tightly, the look of hope and surprise on his face making my heart ache.

He swallowed hard before continuing to speak. “You said once that you didn’t respect people with trust funds and I wanted your respect. Not just your respect. Your admiration. Your heart. I kept that part of me hidden from you because I was afraid.”

I looked at our joined hands, the way he held on to mine like they were a lifeline. “And again, it doesn’t matter to me that you come from money. I thought that we had similar backgrounds, but I don’t care that we don’t. It never mattered to me if you were rich or poor.”

He stayed quiet for a few seconds, as if considering what I’d said. “After we kissed that first time, I felt like such a jerk. I was lying to you but kissing you like that? It wasn’t fair to you and I didn’t know how to tell you. I knew I had to, but like you said, I was running away instead of dealing with my issues. Then before Sunny’s shower, when I heard your boss talking about taking you on a date, I thought I had lost you. I was so unbelievably relieved that you chose me that I couldn’t thinkclearly. All I knew was that I wanted you so badly that I couldn’t even remember where I was, let alone that I should be telling you the truth.”

He glanced over his shoulder at my bed. “I’m so drawn to you—you’re like this magnet that I can’t stay away from. I tried to put you out of my head after I found out about that date and I couldn’t do it. You were always there, no matter what I did. You were all I could think about. Then when things heated up here at your apartment, I again had to deal with the fact that I was lying to you, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to confess when all I want to do is touch you and kiss you whenever you’re close.”

I understood that sentiment all too well.

“When you told me that you loved me”—his hands squeezed mine again—“I was in shock because I’d known for a while that I had fallen in love with you and it was incredible and overwhelming to realize that you felt the same way.”

That revelation was a complete shock, like an arrow piercing my heart, sharp and fast and unexpected. I couldn’t breathe. Max loved me?

“And how could I lie to someone I love? A relationship is supposed to be based on trust, and I was lying. Over something so stupid and inconsequential. And I—”

“You love me?” I stopped him mid-rant, wanting to make sure that I’d heard him correctly. That I wasn’t imagining things.

“Of course I love you.” He said it like I should have known that already. “Who wouldn’t love you? You’re the most incredible woman I’ve ever met.”

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