Danger! Bad Boy(50)

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and looked guilty. Sounding reluctant, he admitted, “I guess I just panicked. When your mom threatened to ship you off to your dad or even farther away if she had too, I gave in because she sounded completely serious and I had no doubt she would do something so horrible. I thought I’d figure something out eventually so we could be together. But for the time being, you would at least still be near.”

Damn, I was about to cry anyways. Appearing panicked, Caleb rushed over to pull me into his arms. “Shh, don’t cry. It’ll be okay. We’ll just have to be careful for awhile.”

Wiping at my tears with impatient fingers, I tilted my head back to look up at him. “Are you sure you didn’t give into her so easily because you were afraid of something else?”

He didn’t meet my gaze when he asked, “What else could I have been afraid of?”

Breaking away from his embrace, I paced across the room before whipping around. “Me!”

With guarded eyes, he asked, “Why would I be afraid of you?”

I hugged myself in a defensive position, peering down at the floor. “Were you trying to protect me or were you trying to protect yourself, Caleb?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” His words were tense.

“Don’t you, Caleb? Think about it! You could have told me and done exactly what we plan to do now, hidden our relationship. Instead, you lied and said you didn’t love me, you hurt me and for weeks ignored me. I know what my mom said was part of your reason, but I think there was another reason, too.”

He was getting mad, but I didn’t care. I wanted, needed, the truth. “I think you latched onto that excuse to distance yourself from me. Our trip to Las Vegas was . . . intense. I told you I loved you and you panicked for that reason, also. The player in you came out, the fear of commitment. I think my mom was an excuse to run away from me and your feelings.”

The look of shock, followed by a look of comprehension made me want to cry more.

And I did.

Maybe he hadn’t realized it himself, but subconsciously, he had still been afraid of everything falling in love meant.

Rushing out of the room, I could hear his steps on the hardwood floor behind me. I tried to shut his bedroom door, but he was already there stopping me. Instead, I went over to the window and stood there with my back to him, looking down at the street below. Silent tears streamed down my face.

I was so sick of crying.

I could feel him behind me, just standing there. “Gianna, I love you.”

My shoulders were hunched, my arms crossed, hands gripping my elbows. “How do I know you won’t get scared and run away again?”

His voice was husky. “You can count on me, Gianna. I’m completely and fully committed to you. I’m promising forever, if that’s okay with you. You’ll be eighteen in about a year and a half and we’ll tell your mom to go to hell.”

So, it’d taken a few weeks apart, but love had won out. He wasn’t afraid anymore and I didn’t have to be either.

Turning around, I launched myself into my arms. His arms automatically enclosed me, offering a safe place. I gave in to what we both wanted, letting him guide me over to his bed.



CALEB



Driving back to the suburbs and having to drop Gianna off down the block from her house really pissed me off. We shouldn’t have to hide our love like it was a crime. We weren’t doing anything wrong. Aside from a little premarital sex, of course.

Halfway to my dad’s condo, my cell rang. Hoping it was Gianna, I checked the caller id. It was my mom. I hit the button to answer, “Hello?”

“Caleb,” she said in a stern voice.

“Yes, mother?” We both knew my polite act was bullshit.

“I just got home and found a pair of panties on your bedroom floor.”

I choked on a laugh. “It’s not what you think.”

“Are you going back to your old ways?”

“Definitely not,” I assured her, not wanting to have this conversation with my mom. “They’re Gianna’s.”

She let out a big breath over the line. “I know I shouldn’t be relieved, but somehow I am. You being sexually active with just one girl is definitely a relief. Gianna’s good for you. Other than a few calls from your school about ditching, you’ve been surprisingly well behaved.”

I didn’t know whether to laugh or hang up on her. “I’m hurt, aren’t I still your good little boy?”

“I wish.” Her tone was laced with humor. “But at least I haven’t had to pick you up at the police station lately.”

“I was always framed,” I assured her, striving for a sincere tone.