Toxic Bad Boy Part 22

After we ordered, Julie asked Gianna about the courses she'd signed up for in the fall. Due to the extra cla.s.ses I'd taken in youth corrections, I could've taken twelfth grade English in summer school and graduated early.

But it would've meant leaving Gianna behind and that wasn't an option. We'd missed out on doing all the stupid high school c.r.a.p together last school year, including prom. For our senior year, we'd experience all that stuff and have the pictures to look back on it.

We finished our meal and said goodbye to our parents. I wasn't excited about them getting back together, but I'd seen it coming after Chance's birthday party. I bet Julie had pulled out all the stops to win my dad over again. Even gritting her teeth and forcing herself to get along with me to prove she'd changed. Maybe she'd finally figured out that Gianna belonged to me now and didn't want to lose my dad, too.

Before I'd moved in with them the crazy woman had made my dad ecstatically happy. If she did that again and was nicer to me, it was a win-win situation.

Gianna's phone rang as we strolled back to my car. "Cece," she said before answering. As a guy on a motorcycle revved past us, she put her hand against her other ear. "I can't understand you."

I guided Gianna into the parking garage. Cece was so loud I could hear her crying uncontrollably through the phone's speaker. Between sobs she was trying to speak, but even for Gianna it had to be incoherent.

"Where are you at?" Gianna asked her.

I clearly heard her stutter through tears that she was at Dante's house. Big blue eyes pleaded with mine as we neared my car. "Fine, tell her we'll meet her there."

"Cece, we'll be there in fifteen minutes. Do you need me to stay on the phone with you?"

Suddenly, screaming could be heard from Cece's end. I a.s.sumed it was Dante she was yelling at.

"Okay, see you in a few," Gianna said quickly and hung up as I buckled her seatbelt for her.

"Pregnancy hormones?" I joked.

"Pregnancy something," Gianna mumbled.

"Let's not have kids for a really long time," I suggested. Picturing Gianna with a giant round belly shouting at me was a funny thought, but the reality might not be.

"You're the one who keeps talking about moving in together and getting married," she teased. "I just want to concentrate on finis.h.i.+ng high school."

"I'll try my best not to knock you up before then." When she started laughing, I added, "By using contraceptives."

The scene at Dante's house wasn't pretty. His family had gone on vacation, leaving him home alone because he'd began a new job stocking shelves at a grocery store. Cece came barging out of the house before I'd put my car in park.

Gianna stepped out of the vehicle just in time for Cece to launch herself into my girlfriend's arms. Dante followed Cece at a slower pace wearing a guilty expression. Oh s.h.i.+t, my boy had somehow f.u.c.ked up. From my last conversation with him, I could guess what had happened.

I surveyed the neighborhood as a kid on a bike pedaled by slowly to watch the drama. "Why don't we go inside?"

"Come on, baby girl," Dante urged.

To which Cece turned a tearstained face on him and screamed, "f.u.c.k you!"

The kid on the bike came to a halt in front of the house next door.

Gianna ignored Cece's resistance and got her into the house. Dante wore a helpless expression as they pa.s.sed by him. Before going through the door, I muttered to him, "Told you not to go there."

He shrugged. "I thought she'd see it was for the best."

Shaking my head, I slapped him on the shoulder. "Guess not."

When I'd last hung out with Dante, he'd confided that he thought maybe abortion was the right decision. Cece wouldn't have to give up dancing and neither one of them would become teen parents. I'd advised against the stupidity of suggesting such a thing to his girlfriend. Obviously, the moron hadn't listened.

Cece was curled into Gianna where they sat on the couch. Her tears had stopped, likely at Gianna's understanding words. Catching sight of us, both females glared at me along with Dante.

Holding up both hands, I said, "Hey, I told him it was a dumb idea."

At my words, Cece snarled at Dante, "You told Caleb about how you want me to kill our baby?"

Dante ran a hand roughly over his face. "f.u.c.k, I don't know. We're not ready for a baby."

"If you loved me, you'd want our baby."

Surprisingly, Gianna was the one who defended Dante. "That's not true, Cece. Dante loves you, he's just scared."

"What about you, Caleb?" Cece asked. "What would you do if Gianna was pregnant?"

"Marry her," I said without hesitation.

"Thanks a lot, man," Dante said sarcastically.

Ignoring him, I continued, "But knocking her up was Plan B anyway if she refused to get back together with me."

"I hope you're joking," Gianna said, her eyes narrowed.

My answer was to shrug noncommittally.

Dante tried to approach Cece, making her slap out at him. "Don't come near me! I hate you!"

"We can keep the baby if you want," he offered pathetically.

"Oh, I'm so grateful for your generosity!" Cece cried. "Thank you for not wanting a doctor to murder our baby!"

Unfortunately, Dante didn't know when to quit. "I looked it up online and it's not a baby yet."

Cece screamed in black rage. "Get me out of here, Gianna, before I completely lose it!"

Holy s.h.i.+t, could it actually get worse?

"Listen, man," I told Dante. "I'll take her to my mom's apartment for awhile before taking her home. You two need to cool off away from each other."

As Gianna led her out to my car after I tossed her the keys, Cece looked over her shoulder to yell, "My baby and I don't need you!"

"Call you tomorrow," I told him, shaking my head at the drama.

He trailed me to the front door. "Would you mind calling me later so I know she's alright? I doubt she'll answer if I call."

"If you love her, support whatever decisions she makes."

"Caleb, there are things I want to do before I settle down with a family."

"Like spring break in Cancun?"

"And backpacking across Europe like we said we would," he reminded me.

"Dante, I'm not going anywhere without my girl." I left him to think about what he wanted, not that he knew himself.

GIANNA.

My iPod played a Lana Del Rey song. The room was dark except for the glow of a street light through the open blinds. Barely there kisses teased the skin along my throat, up to my jaw, the corner of my mouth. The full contact of our lips was more desperate as he deepened the kiss.

"Caleb," I sighed his name. "I love you."

"Let me wors.h.i.+p you, Gianna," he groaned.

A tinge of anxiety creeped in. "I don't think I'm ready."

"I just want my mouth on you," he said, pulling at my pajama shorts. "Say yes."

Wrapping my arms around him, I squeezed him tightly against me, reminding myself this was Caleb. I was always safe with him. "Okay."

He exhaled a breath, exposing his relief. "I'll go slowly. If you start to feel uncomfortable just tell me and I'll stop."

Being brave, I removed my pajama top. Caleb took my panties along with my shorts. He wore nothing but his underwear, leaving them the only barrier between us.

His tongue went from one breast to the other. "I love you, Gianna."

I know.

Knowing that made it easier to relax. I bit my lip to hold back the moans. My dad was asleep down the hallway and he would freak out big time if he caught us. I'd die of embarra.s.sment and be grounded until I turned eighteen.

Caleb hopped off the bed, surprising me. He flicked the bathroom light on and sauntered back to me. Holy c.r.a.p, I had the hottest boyfriend.

"I want to be able to see you." He removed my arms from over my b.r.e.a.s.t.s. "Don't be shy."

"It feels like forever ago since we did this. Like it never happened."

His body covered mine. "Oh, it happened. I've thought about it every day for nine months."

"Poor baby," I teased.

"Now, where was I?" He swooped down to kiss each nipple before going down, where he stayed. Long enough for me to o.r.g.a.s.m for the first time since he'd last touched me.

Panting, I closed my eyes. I felt his head hit the pillow next to mine. "That look on your beautiful face will always be my greatest work of art," he whispered in my ear.

Giggling, I s.h.i.+fted my body to face him. "Have I ever told you what a pervert you are?"

CHAPTER TWENTY.

"Mistakes you can learn from; sins stay with you forever."

-Corey Taylor CALEB.

The best part of the show was that I didn't have to do any of the work. All Jim required of me was to show up and speak with the attendees. Debra, the gallery manager, had set everything up with the help of her technical a.s.sistant, Donald, and Tyler. As an intern, Norah wasn't yet trusted with the most important details of the event.

Since I had to be there before it started, Gianna was coming later with her dad. Sydney Atwood, the urban realist artist, stood next to me, watching as the gallery staff ran around, completing the finis.h.i.+ng touches.

I suspected Jim viewed Sydney and me as finis.h.i.+ng touches ourselves. She was an attractive twenty-two year old African-American chick with black braids halfway down her back and golden brown eyes. She was tall, almost as tall as me with her heels on, and had a toned body. I knew my own attractiveness and figured Jim expected us to photograph nicely for the media he'd invited.

An article featured the exhibit in this morning's Denver Post. Jim had promoted the showing online and in 5280 magazine. Two attractive young Denver artists, who painted urban life, drummed up a lot of interest. While my work focused on the violent reality, Sydney's art concentrated on the artistic pursuits of the city's youth. Her subjects were musicians, poets and other artists like herself.

I wore a navy suit with no tie and a black t-s.h.i.+rt underneath. Sydney was dressed in a clingy turquoise dress with lots of chunky jewelry around her neck and wrists. We were like an advertis.e.m.e.nt for young and modern.

My mom helped Debra set up as if she worked at the gallery, even checking that everything was a go with the catering company. She was more excited than I was about my first show.

The only thing I looked forward to was the red dress I'd made Gianna promise to wear. It was shorter than what she usually wore and had sat in her closet for months. Cece had given it to her as an early Christmas present last year but she'd refused to wear it.

"Caleb, can I talk to you for a minute?" Norah asked, stopping in front of us.

"Sure," I answered cautiously. The last time I'd spoken with her, she'd been p.i.s.sed at me.

Following her to the back of the gallery, we went behind a part.i.tion and she pointed to the painting there. "Is that your girlfriend?"

"I'm sure you know it is, with all the snooping you and your roommate did to track her down."

She placed a hand on my arm, causing me to shake it off. "It wasn't me. Christina knew I was upset and felt protective."

"Whatever, just keep your stalker roommate away from Gianna."

Her face was earnest and I almost believed her. "I promise, Caleb."

"What are these doing up, anyways? I told Jim not to put them in the show." The painting she'd pointed at was of Gianna the night of the attack. Hanging next to it was the painting of a raging Josh in his football uniform.

"n.o.body will see them but select and trusted clients of the gallery," she explained. "This area is already part.i.tioned off from the rest of the gallery for more taboo artwork. It's away from the bathrooms and office so n.o.body will wander back here on accident."

I wasn't happy with the paintings being up at all after I'd changed my mind about including them in the show, but if Jim sold them I'd be rid of them forever. "Fine," I said, irritated and wanting away from Norah and her soft looks. There was no intimacy between us and I wouldn't be accused of leading her on again.

She stopped me with a hand on my arm again. "Caleb, we can still be friends, right?"

Turning back to her, I shook her arm off to make my stance clear. "I wouldn't do that to my girlfriend."