Beware of Bad Boy

Chapter 9

"A bachelor never quite gets over the idea that he is a thing of beauty and a boy forever."

-Helen Rowland

GIANNA

Caleb parked in another parking garage downtown and we walked several blocks to the Rocky Mountain Diner. "You know, I've never been here."

"They have the best food here. I'll order for you," he offered, guiding me to a booth with his hand on my lower back.

We sat down and a forty-something waitress approached with menus. "Where've you been, honey?"

"Jean, I have bad news, devastating really, I had to move up north to Broomfield with my dad. I'll probably only be able to make it in here once a week." He looked so pathetic and sad that the waitress ate it up.

She patted his cheek soothingly. "Poor baby, who's going to feed you?"

"Don't worry, Jean, I have a new stepmom and she's got mad Betty Crocker skills. Actually, this is my stepsister, Gianna." He motioned towards me, bringing Jean's attention to me.

"Oh, what a pretty girl. You'll have to watch out for her, Caleb."

"I'm trying my best, Jean, but she's kind of wild." Smartass.

"You're such a good boy, Caleb. What will you have today, the usual?" Jean had a pen and notepad ready to take our order.

"Yes, we'll both have that. Thank you, Jean."

Jean left to give the kitchen our order and I hissed at Caleb, "You are so full of it."

"Yeah, I know," Caleb said proudly, leaning back in his seat. He pulled the list out of his pocket and I saw him cross off numbers one through four and number nine. "So, princess, what does number thirteen entail?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" I imitated what he'd told me this morning.

He was unconcerned. "I'll get it out of you eventually. So, how much fun are you having under my guidance?"

We were sitting there laughing about almost getting caught earlier when some random girl plopped herself sideways onto Caleb's lap. Her arms snaked around his neck at the same time. "Caleb, where've you been? I've missed you." She was doing that annoying baby-talk thing girls did when trying to sound cute.

Her nasty-ass lips were on his before he could respond. I felt like yanking her off of him by her cheap extensions. Caleb pushed her off him, saying, "I moved, Cathy."

"It's Casey," she corrected heatedly.

"Yeah, whatever, anyways I'll call you," he said in that tone that meant I won't really call you, I just want to get rid of you.

His meaning was obvious to me and probably anyone within earshot, but Casey must've been delusional. "You will?" she practically squealed. "You promise?" It was the disgusting baby-talk voice again.

Caleb was clearly annoyed, wanting her to be gone. "Promise."

Casey went back to her table, but not before throwing me a venomous glare. I restrained myself from tripping her, just barely. It wouldn't do to have Caleb think I was jealous. Which would be totally untrue and ridiculous. Getting jealous over a guy like Caleb would be like getting jealous over a swing at a public park. It was free for anyone to have a ride.

He must've sensed my inner turmoil from the look on my face, because he drawled, "Jealous?"

"How'd you know?" I asked in fake astonishment. "I so wanted her to sit on my lap and put her STD mouth on me!"

"I thought I was getting a lesbian vibe from you!" he joked, still seeming annoyed underneath the levity.

"So, are you going to call her?" If he said yes, my respect for him would suffer even more. Besides, I stupidly wanted him to say no. I was pretty positive he'd slept with that girl at some point and it bothered me despite my not wanting it to.

"I don't even have her number."

Good boy, I respected him more for his decision.

"Plus, I don't usually offer seconds."

And the dial on the respect meter just went back down.

I could hear that Casey bitch talking shit about me with some other girls in a booth somewhere behind me.

She looks like she got plastic surgery on her face, said one voice.

I bet she used to be a dog, said another.

He'll totally dump her and call you, Casey, 'cause you're way hotter, said a third.

Fed up, I scratched the back of my head with my middle finger and heard a round of gasps. I smile serenely at Caleb, who was clueless to the verbal and nonverbal catfight he'd instigated.

Our food came a little later and he'd ordered us both huge hamburgers with steak fries. "I can't eat all of this," I told him. "I'd need two stomachs."

"Don't worry, I'll eat whatever you don't finish," he assured then bit into his burger.

"That's probably why you ordered us the same thing, huh?" His smile was answer enough.

I ate as much as I could and let him finish my food as promised. "Whenever we go out to eat, my mom makes me order a salad or chicken and rice. I haven't had a good fattening restaurant burger in forever." At home she made tasty food to make Scott happy, so I got to eat that, but she sometimes gave me a disapproving look if she thought I was eating too much.

"That is just wrong. You're far from fat," he remarked, eyeing my stomach area. I had the sudden urge to cover it with my hands.

Fighting a blush, I told him, "Yeah, but she's paranoid that I'll gain weight. Sometimes I wonder what'd happen if I did. She'd probably have a nervous breakdown or something."

"Please don't get fat. I like looking at your hot body too much," he teased.

"Pig." He had nothing to say to that, since it was true.

Caleb paid for our meal and we left the restaurant, walking in the opposite direction from where his car was parked. "Where are we going?"

"You'll see, princess," he replied with a wink.

We crossed quite a few blocks before stopping in front of a tattoo shop called Donna's Designs. "Are you serious? I can't get a tattoo. My mom would drag my ass to the nearest place to get it removed."

"Then you just have to get it somewhere she won't see it. I think I know the perfect place." He smacked me on the butt to make his meaning clear.

"Like I said, you're a pervert." I slapped him on the arm in retaliation.

"Anyways, you don't have to get it today. You can just look at some designs."

This made me feel better and I followed him inside. There were a couple artists working on tattoos and one of them glanced up at our entrance. "Hey, Caleb, are you here for that tongue piercing?"

"Nope, Donna. This is Gianna. She's here to get my name tattooed on her ass." He said it with a straight face and I pushed him. Donna laughed and went back to the guy she was working on. She was a few years older than us, pretty with black hair to her shoulders and colorful tattoos going up one arm.

"You're a pervert, Caleb," she said. See, I was right!

"She's still thinking about what to get, Donna," he informed her.

"Okay, just let me know if you have any questions."

I thanked her and we looked through books. Too curious to resist, I asked Caleb, "Do you have any tattoos?" I'd avoided looking at his body when I'd seen him in a towel and I was regretting it now.

"Yes, and if you're lucky, you might just get to see them someday."

I rolled my eyes at his cockiness. "I think I want to design my own and I already have something in mind."

"And what's that?"

"Maybe if you get lucky, you might just get to see it," I mimicked him. "How do you get tattoos without a parent's consent?"

"Oh, Donna used to live in the same apartment building as me, so she doesn't care," he explained. "Are you ready to get one today?"

"No way, I want to work on the design a little first and mentally prepare myself