Beware of Bad Boy(69)

“How the hell did you know about that?”

She rolled her eyes. “Quit looking at me like I’m psychic. It was so obvious she was desperate and going to try something to steal you from me. You didn’t answer the question, Caleb.”

She should be happy with my answer. “I pushed her off me and told her I didn’t want any girl but you. I’m not sure that we’re even friends anymore.”

Gianna threw her arms around my neck. “Then I totally forgive you!”

“I don’t know if I forgive you,” I told her sternly.

She pulled back with her mouth open. “What did I do?”

“You worried the crap out of me, not coming home or calling all day.” I gave her a fake glare, making her giggle.

“My mom!” she squeaked. “I need to go inside and let her know I’m home.”

Before she could move away I grabbed her arm. “Your mom thinks you’re with the cheerleaders. You could come home next week and she wouldn’t care. I, on the other hand, need to kiss my girlfriend.” My kiss was filled with the relief of finally having everything fixed between us.

“What did you do all day?” I asked when it was over.

She took a step back from me. “You know, this and that.”

“No, I don’t know. Why don’t you explain it to me since I don’t speak cryptic?”

She smiled mischievously. “I hooked up with some street dancers down on 16th street. Then I went to see Donna.”

“What’d you go to see her for? Your design is still upstairs.”

Gianna took another step back. “Oh nothing, I just got a piercing.”

She quickly lifted up her shirt, flashing a pierced belly button. When she brought her shirt back down, my eyes went to her face to see her enticing grin. I reached for her, but she dodged me and ran into the house.

The little tease.

How long did it take for a navel piercing to heal? I’d have to look it up on the internet because I was gonna need to lick her there. Soon.





CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX



“I think beauty comes from within, and society paints a ridiculous picture.”

-Rachel Bilson



GIANNA



“Caleb, stop!”

“Come on, just one more time,” he begged.

“Ugh, fine! I should’ve known you’d have some sort of fetish, with all the piercings you have.” I lifted up my shirt for the hundredth time so Caleb could look at my navel piercing.

Dropping my shirt, my stomach was covered up again. “Was that so hard?” Caleb joked.

“No, but it was so annoying,” I teased him back.

“Admit it, baby. You got the piercing just for me to see, so don’t complain.” He wrapped his arms around my waist, kissing me sweetly.

“Not everything is about you, Caleb. I got it for me.” I acted annoyed, but gladly kissed him again.

We were in the kitchen after school on Thursday, making popcorn for the movie we were going to watch. “Everything about you is about me now, too,” he said as he grabbed two cans of soda out of the fridge.

How did I argue against that kind of charm?

“Whatever, sweet talker. Let’s go watch zombies eat people who can’t run fast enough.”

We watched Dawn of the Dead, so romantic. Caleb couldn’t keep his hands or mouth to himself during the movie. “Caleb, we may as well turn the movie off. You aren’t even watching it.”

“I’d rather watch you do a little dance for me.” He grinned wickedly. “Why don’t we go upstairs to my room?”

“Okay.”

His surprised face made me laugh. I took off like a shot. As I ran up the stairs, his pounding tread close behind made my heart race faster. He entered his room at my heels and I yelped as he picked me up in the air and tossed me onto his bed. In a move that rivaled dancer-like gracefulness, he landed gently on top of me. Threading my fingers through his hair, I urged him on.

I let one hand drop down beside my head where it landed on something sticking out from under the pillow. Twisting my head off the pillow, I yanked it out. Caleb didn’t notice because he was busy on my other side, making a trail of kisses along my jaw and down my neck. I lifted the notepad over his head.

Gasping at what I saw, it spurred Caleb to catch my lips with his. The boy could kiss, making me forget about the notepad in my hand. It dropped from my hand onto his back.

“What’s that?” He stopped kissing me to see what hit him.

“Your drawing pad.”

He shot up straight, snatching it out of my hand. “I’ll take that.”

Smiling as I guided him down for a kiss, I told him, “It’s too late. I already saw it.”

“It’s not supposed to be you,” he said, looking uncharacteristically embarrassed.