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Carmine sighed. “Don’t worry—I rented it. It’ll go back tomorrow.”
Dominic and Tess showed up a few minutes later, followed by a disgruntled Dia. They huddled outside to take some pictures. After a few minutes of cameras flashing, Carmine grabbed Haven’s hand and pulled her away. He hesitated at his car, scanning it for damage, before heading toward the rental. “I’ve always wanted a Vanquish. I feel like James Bond driving this motherfucker.”
“James Bond?”
“Yeah, you know—007, the secret agent?” She shook her head, and he sighed. “It’s a movie.”
“Sorry,” she said. “I’ve never seen it.”
“It doesn’t matter,” he said, motioning for her to get in. She wanted to believe him, but his frustrated expression told a different story.
The drive to the restaurant was quiet as Haven’s nerves ran amuck. After about thirty minutes, she couldn’t take the silence anymore and attempted conversation. “This is a pretty car. You couldn’t get one of these instead of yours?”
He laughed dryly. “This costs six times more than my Mazda. There’s no way my father would fork over a quarter-million dollars for a car. The only thing he’d spend that much on is a house.” He paused. “Or you, maybe. Don’t know how much he paid for you.”
His words stung. She blinked a few times, willing herself not to let her hurt show as she turned to stare out the window.
“And I guess it’s pretty, if you can call a car pretty.”
Haven didn’t speak the rest of the drive.
They arrived at the restaurant, and Carmine led her inside to join the others. He occasionally said something that rubbed her the wrong way while they ate, but someone would diffuse the situation before it spiraled. Haven wasn’t fond of this side of Carmine. It was a part of him she wasn’t well acquainted with . . . a part of him she didn’t want to know.
The waitress came by to make sure they had everything they needed, her eyes lingering on Carmine longer than necessary. He ignored her like he usually did, but Tess didn’t let it slide. “She could see your girlfriend sitting right beside you. Doesn’t she have any self-respect?”
Carmine shrugged. “Bitches can’t help it.”
Tess glared at him, his response not what she wanted to hear. “What the hell’s got into you?”
Carmine’s brow furrowed. “What are you talking about?”
“Your attitude, that’s what. It’s a damn shame, too. I almost liked you for a while.”
“Yeah, well, I never fucking liked you.”
Haven tensed at the hostility as Dominic hit the table with his fist. “Enough! I don’t know what your problem is, Carmine, but you need to figure it out. I’m this close to laying your ass out.”
Carmine glared at his brother. “What have I done?”
“Do you not hear yourself? You’re acting more and more like the old you.”
“I am not,” Carmine said.
“Yes, you are,” Dominic said. “And I’m telling you now—fix it. Haven deserves better than the way you’ve been treating her.”
Haven watched Carmine warily as he stared at his brother. The tension at the table was thick, and she started to panic. “I, uh . . . I need to go to the restroom.”
She stood, and Dia jumped to her feet to show her where it was. She breathed a sigh of relief once she was alone and stayed there until she calmed down. There was a tap on the door, and she expected to see Dia still waiting, but instead came face-to-face with Carmine.
“Can we talk, tesoro?” She nodded and followed him outside to the car. Carmine put the key into the ignition. “I didn’t realize I was being such an asshole. I’ve had a lot on my mind.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
He sighed, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. “Not really. That probably makes me a bigger asshole, but I just . . . can we start over? You finally get a chance to experience teenage shit, and I’m fucking it up. I should be groveling at your feet, thanking you for giving me this chance. You shouldn’t love me, but you do, and you don’t know how thankful I am for that, how much I appreciate having you in my life.”
She gazed at him with surprise. It was the nicest thing he had said in a while . . . possibly ever. “I’m glad I have you, too.”
“Good,” he said, starting the car as Haven put on her seatbelt. “And I’m sorry about the Nikes.”
