Chapter 71 Unwanted Feelings

Chapter 71 Unwanted Feelings
Tasha's POV

BY FRIDAY afternoon, I was beginning to suspect that the universe enjoyed making my life unnecessarily complicated.
That was the only explanation I could come up with.
Because if life had any sense of fairness at all, it wouldn't place three completely different men in my orbit while simultaneously turning my emotional stability into a disaster zone.
I stared at the open laptop in front of me and reread the same paragraph for what felt like the tenth time.
None of the words registered because my attention kept drifting. Unfortunately, it kept drifting toward the same person. A person who hadn't voluntarily spoken to me in nearly two weeks.
I sighed and rubbed my temples. 
"You're doing it again."
I looked up to find Luigi lowering himself into the chair across from me in the library. A coffee cup rested in one hand while a paper bag filled with pastries occupied the other.
"What am I doing?" I asked.
Luigi placed the coffee in front of me before answering. "Staring at your screen without actually reading anything."
I blinked. Then glanced down. The same paragraph was still open.
My face heated slightly. "Maybe I'm studying it very carefully."
Luigi laughed. "Natasha, you've been looking at the same page for fifteen minutes."
I groaned and dropped my head onto the table. "That obvious?"
"Painfully obvious."
His voice carried the familiar warmth that always seemed to follow him wherever he went.
Unlike most people at Vanguard, Luigi never demanded anything from me. He never pushed. Never manipulated. Never tried to force a conversation I wasn't ready to have.
He simply showed up. Again and again. Patiently.
I lifted my head and accepted the coffee. "Thanks."
"You're welcome."
He leaned back in his chair and studied me for a moment. "You know, most people would be excited about being selected for the showcase project."
"I am excited."
"Then why do you look like you're preparing for a funeral?"
I laughed despite myself. The sound surprised me. Apparently, it surprised Luigi too.
His smile widened. "There she is."
"Who?"
"The girl who actually knows how to smile."
I rolled my eyes. "That's dramatic."
"Fine," he said. "Maybe a little."
I shook my head. The conversation felt ordinary. That was the problem. Everything with Luigi felt easy. There were no games, confusion, emotional whiplash.
Just kindness.
For a moment, I wondered what it would be like if I let myself lean into that simplicity.
The thought barely lasted three seconds. Because another face immediately appeared in my mind.
Carlos.
I looked away before Luigi could notice the shift in my expression. Unfortunately, I noticed it.
And that somehow felt worse.

LATER THAT evening, I found myself sitting across from Primo in one of the quieter engineering conference rooms.
Stacks of copied documents covered the table between us. Old racing reports. Archived articles. Competition records.
The growing collection of information surrounding my father.
Primo slid another folder toward me. "I finally got access to the regional racing registry from twenty-one years ago."
I stared at him. "You got access?"
A faint smile appeared on his face. "I know people."
"You definitely bribed someone."
"I prefer the term persuaded."
I laughed. "You absolutely bribed someone."
"Allegedly."
The amusement faded as I opened the folder. Inside were several documents I had never seen before.
My pulse immediately quickened. "Where did these come from?"
"The registry archives."
I looked up. "Primo, some of these records should be sealed."
"They are."
"Then how—"
"Tasha." 
His voice interrupted me gently. When I looked up again, his expression had changed. The teasing was gone. Only seriousness remained.
"You've spent months searching for answers."
I nodded. "Then let me help you find them."
The simple sincerity in his voice caught me off guard. Primo never hid his intentions. That was one of the things that made him so difficult to handle.
With most people, there were layers. Masks. Hidden agendas.
Primo simply said what he was thinking. Sometimes it was infuriating. Sometimes it was refreshing. Tonight it felt dangerous.
Because I knew exactly what he wanted. And he had made absolutely no effort to hide it.
His gaze remained fixed on mine. "I'm not pretending I'm helping because we're friends, Tasha."
The words landed heavily between us. My stomach immediately tightened.
"Primo..."
"No."
He shook his head. "You deserve honesty."
I looked away first. That was becoming a habit around him. A very annoying habit.
"I know what you're doing."
"Good."
My eyes widened. "That's your response?"
"It is."
I stared at him. Primo merely folded his arms. Completely unbothered.
"You make it impossible to have a normal conversation,” I said.
"That's because this isn't a normal conversation."
I opened my mouth. Then closed it again. Because the frustrating part was that he wasn't wrong.
Primo wasn't pretending.
He wasn't hiding behind friendship.
He wasn't waiting for me to figure things out.
He had been completely honest from the beginning.
Part of me respected that.
Another part wanted to throw one of the folders at his head.
"You're unbelievable."
His smile returned. "I've heard that before."
"Today?"
"Actually, yes."
I groaned and Primo laughed.
The sound filled the room.
For a moment, despite everything, I found myself smiling too.
But the smile disappeared the moment I left the building. Because Carlos was standing across the courtyard.
My heart betrayed me instantly. One glance. That was all it took. The problem wasn't that he was there. The problem was that I noticed.
Immediately. Every single time.
Carlos stood near the racing center entrance speaking with two other drivers. His posture was relaxed. His expression calm.
For a second, I almost convinced myself not to look. Then he glanced in my direction and our eyes met. The world seemed to pause.
Students continued walking. Conversations continued. Nothing actually changed.
Except me.
Because for one brief second, I thought he might smile. Or wave. Or do something. Anything.
Instead, his expression remained completely neutral. Then he looked away.
Just like that.
As though I were any other student crossing campus. The familiar ache returned immediately. I hated how much it hurt.
More importantly, I hated that it still hurt.
"Tasha?"
I blinked. Val was suddenly beside me. Apparently, she'd been talking for several seconds.
"You didn't hear a word I just said, did you?"
"No."
"Thought so."
I sighed. "Sorry."
Val followed my gaze directly toward Carlos. "Oh."
One word. That was all she said. Yet somehow it felt like she'd uncovered state secrets.
"Oh what?"
A grin slowly appeared. "Oh."
"Val."
"Tasha."
"Stop that."
She grinned. "I'm not doing anything."
"You absolutely are."
She laughed and I glared. The glare accomplished nothing.
"You're staring at him again."
"I was not."
"You were." Val raised an eyebrow. "Tasha."
I crossed my arms and she crossed hers. We stared at each other.
Unfortunately, I lost first.
"Fine."
"Thank you."
"I looked at him."
She narrowed her eyes at me. "You practically memorized his face."
"Val."
She laughed harder. I considered abandoning our budding friendship. Because she was annoyingly perceptive. The worst part? She wasn't wrong.
That realization followed me all the way back to my dorm.
And unfortunately, it didn't stop there.
Hours later, I sat on my bed staring at the ceiling while the events of the day replayed inside my head.
Luigi's kindness.
Primo's honesty.
Carlos's distance.
Again and again.
Eventually, a thought surfaced that I could no longer avoid. I sat upright. The realization hit so suddenly that it stole my breath.
"Oh no."
The words escaped before I could stop them. Because I finally understood what had been bothering me.
Why everything felt wrong.
Why every interaction left me frustrated.
Why nothing seemed to make sense anymore.
I wasn't evaluating Luigi on his own merits. I wasn't evaluating Primo fairly either. I was comparing them.
Constantly.
Some part of me kept measuring everyone against Carlos. The way Carlos used to tease me. The way he used to look at me. The way he somehow made every argument feel effortless. The way his absence now followed me everywhere.
I pressed both hands against my face. This was bad.
Very bad.
Because comparing people only happened when someone mattered too much. And Carlos mattered far more than I wanted to admit. The truth settled heavily inside my chest.
For weeks, I had been trying to understand why his distance affected me so deeply. Now I finally had my answer. And it terrified me.
Because if I was still comparing everyone to Carlos Santiago… 
Then I wasn't over him.
Not even close.