Danger! Bad Boy(49)

He palmed my own bottom and squeezed. “You too, baby.”

Pushing against his chest, I whined, “Caleb, you’re supposed to be offended.”

His lips were kissing my neck, making me squirm. “Why should I be offended? I know how fine I am.”

“Hmm,” I hummed. “You’re alright looking.”

“You too, Gianna. You’ll do,” he teased then pulled back to look at me seriously. “Why do you love me?”

Caleb needing reassurance? Interesting. Until I suddenly felt a little on-the-spot. So, this was what a guy felt like when his girlfriend acted all needy. “Um,” I began.

Not cutting me any slack, his expression was skeptical. “Um?”

“Because,” I began again, at loss for words and feeling a blush coming on. “Because,” I said slowly.”

“Because?” he echoed, clearly amused now.

I scowled at him. “Because you care about me.” The assertion gave me strength and it became easier to continue. “Because you understand me. Because you’re so good to me.” I punched him lightly on his chest. “When you aren’t lying about loving me and ignoring me at school.”

He scoffed in disbelief. “Believe me, I was never ignoring you.” Brushing a strand of hair behind my ear, he said sweetly, “I’m always aware of you.”

I smiled in satisfaction, adding, “And because you love me.” Jumping up and down a little on his lap, I prompted, “Okay, my turn. Why do you love me?” My hands were clasped together in anticipation.

He laughed softly. His hazel eyes had a sexy look in them. “Alright, alright.” With a serious face, he said with meaning. “Because you look so hot in your cheerleader uniform.”

“Caleb!” I whined in annoyance. “Be serious!”

Placing both of his warm hands on either side of my face, he said with a light smile on his lips. “I love you because you’re you. Because underneath all that physical perfection is a vulnerable, beautiful soul who needs me and loves me back. Who sees the good in me.”

“You are good,” I stated sincerely. And vulnerable too, I thought to myself.

He visibly shuddered. “Enough of all this mushiness. Let’s have sex!”

I laughed loudly as he picked me up off the couch, intent, I suspected, on carrying me back to his bed. My intentions were otherwise, not that my hormones weren’t raging as much as his. Okay well, almost as much. Wiggling like crazy, I jumped out of his arms before he made it to the hallway.

“Wait, we need to talk seriously.” I held up a hand to ward him off.

His look was impatient. “What’s there to talk about? I love you, you love me, now let’s have sex.”

Hands on my hips, I glided around him and sat down on the couch, by myself this time. “There’s plenty to talk about, Caleb Morrison.”

“Like?” he pouted, clearly disappointed.

I stared at him thoughtfully. Where to begin? Everything was such a mess and unlike him, I couldn’t just live in the moment and jump into bed, forgetting about all of our problems.

Last night was wonderful, a dream come true in so many ways. Caleb had made love to me, well more like ravished me in his car, but it was still romantic because he’d told me he loved me.

Some guys might declare their love in more romantic ways, but I knew who Caleb was and I loved all of him. For Caleb, that was romance.

But even when something was a dream come true, it didn’t mean everything was perfect. I believed Caleb when he told me he loved me. Looking back at the past couple months, I could see it was there all along.

There were still issues that bothered me, though.

Thank god we had the time alone at his mom’s apartment to discuss our relationship. My mom wouldn’t expect me home until this afternoon and it was barely ten in the morning.

“Sit,” I told him, then added, “Please.”

Looking disgruntled, he complied and took a seat in a recliner across from me. Crossing his arms over his chest, he asked cautiously, “What do you want to talk about?”

I licked my lips nervously. “You told me last night about how my mom threatened you with sending me to Texas if you didn’t break up with me and that’s why you had to hurt me, but you didn’t explain the most important part.”

“I told you everything that happened and why I did what I did.” Looking at the floor, his face was a mask of concentration. With his head slightly tilted down, a lock of black hair had fallen over one eye. He glanced up at me. “So, what’s the most important part?”

Even knowing now that he loved me, I was still hurt. Trying not to cry again, I asked, “Why did you choose to break my heart instead of telling me the truth?”