Stay

by Chelsea Camaron

  His every word somehow enticed me and made me want to fall into a puddle on the floor, and we were talking about an apple and a knife. Seriously, I was sick and twisted on the inside to find pleasure in this moment.

  He rocked against me as we finished peeling the apple and went to remove the core. Once again, his hand covered mine, and he manipulated the tool to remove the middle of the green fruit.

  When he finished and pushed away from me, I immediately went cold at the loss of contact. While I tried to ignore the desires of my body, we peeled, cored, and sliced all of the apples.

  Step by step, we moved together through the kitchen, getting the apples onto the stovetop with butter, cinnamon, brown sugar, a splash of vanilla, and apple pie spice. While the apples softened, we went on to mix our dough. Laying it out onto the countertop, I was once again blessed with Giano standing behind me as we rolled out two pie crusts—one for the top and the other for the actual crust. With his hand covering mine, we cut the strips for the lattice work and laid the bottom in our greased pan.

  Looking down at my completed pie an hour later, I was amazed at its golden perfection.

  “We make a great team,” Giano praised. “Now, as much as I would love to eat that, return to school tomorrow with that for your teacher and then ask if you can try the assignment again with her watching. We do not simply accept failures. If she doesn’t allow it, so be it. Your grades are still good, but the point is to try and try again until you achieve success.”

  I didn’t know if he was giving me fatherly advice or life advice. Either way, every word that came from Giancarlo Diamante’s mouth held weight and value with me. I would treasure each word and each moment he had given me … And apple pie would never be a simple dessert again.

  Chapter Ten

  Another Year Later

  The lies we tell ourselves often become our own version of the truth.

  I’d had time to find my own footing in the life of Angelina Nylene Diamante. Over the last few years of attending school, I had found it easier and easier to be her and no longer myself. Since the mall incident, I had found comfort in knowing that, even when I was out with my friends, Giano was never really far away. He was always watching me and prepared to step in to keep me safe and our truths hidden. I also found myself less afraid of slipping up as the time passed by.

  School was school. It didn’t come easily, but as long as I remained focused, I managed to get by with honor roll. I was not a straight-A student, but I wasn’t far off from one. Private school was never something anyone viewed as easy. Having less than fifteen kids per class, the teachers were all up in our business and all over our schoolwork.

  Religion was the hardest class for me personally. How was I supposed to believe in this Heavenly Spirit when my beginning had been so rough? Did they really think there was some Almighty Creator watching over us? If so, they had to be sadly mistaken. Why would the Heavenly Father allow such things to happen to me? Larger plan, they said. Life was life, and no one was going to be in charge of my destiny, regardless of the Almighty. Maybe one day I could believe, perhaps even forgive, but until that time, I did the work I had to while laughing inside at their false hope in something absolutely unreal.

  Amanda said I was jaded. She wouldn’t have survived my history, much less come out of it as Suzy Sunshine. If jaded was the worst thing she could say about me, I would take it, all while smiling and thinking, if she only knew the whole truth...

  Regardless of her judgments, Amanda and I were friends. Randi, she, and I had formed a bond. Well, as much of a bond as we could form, given I was living a lie. We spent many afternoons together at one another’s houses, studying and gossiping much like I suspected normal teenagers did.

  Like any other year, the beginning of our junior year started with new teachers, new classes, and new students. Fall was here, and this year was the year we would make our mark. The three of us had finally filled out. I had the figure of a Victoria Secret model. The lady at the store had even told me to submit something for a casting call. Giano had quickly shut her down, but I did fall in love with their classic push up bra that gave me more cleavage than a teen girl probably should have.

  Randi had managed to fill into a small B cup while she remained short and tiny. Her blonde hair now came past her shoulders in spiral curls, and her makeup would forever be overdone. Mandy still had her big butt, and while she had grown taller, she hadn’t filled out beyond the added fake-chicken-cutlet-looking, plastic things she added inside her bras.

  We had become our own version of the three amigas and rarely weren’t together. It was hard to call them my friends when they truly didn’t know the truth, but they were really all I had. I firmly lived by the less is more code. The less people I associated with, the safer I would be long-term. These two seemed to understand that I was shy and didn’t push me to branch out of our tiny circle. I was okay with that. There was a comfort in it.

  “You know, Natalie was caught last night blowing Tyson at the football game. What a slut!” Amanda criticized, much like she did every day. She had a hard up hatred for Natalie, and I really didn’t know why.

  “A slut I wanna be.” Randi laughed her reply.

  I sighed, remaining quiet, refusing to engage in the conversation. High school, what a difficult place—not yet a grown up, but no longer a little child. The world kept spinning, while I struggled to find solid ground outside of the house.

  “Angelina, you seriously need to upgrade your room,” Randi stated matter-of-factly, only annoying me further.

  Why couldn’t teen girls mind their own business? The more time that went on, the more their critical opinions of everyone and everything bothered me. Maybe I was finally maturing and growing up.

  My old canopy bed creaked as I got up, but the metal still held strong. I blew out a frustrated breath and moved to the window.

  “Seriously, the pink, the lace …” Amanda’s voice trailed off as I smiled, holding my lace curtain between my thumb and finger as I had many times before. “We’re not ten anymore, Lina.”

  I looked out into the backyard, wishing I could escape their scrutiny. They always wanted to come to my house, yet they always complained about my room décor.

  “We’re not trying to be harsh; we’re just your friends,” Randi added her opinion. “I got rid of my dollhouse when we were, like, twelve, yet you hold onto yours like we’re going back in time instead of growing up.”

  “Maybe we’re not ten anymore, but maybe it’s okay to let time stand still in little ways,” I whispered, facing the window and avoiding my so-called friends.

  “Well, if you’re that stuck on leaving it how it is, don’t ever bring a boy in here. With all this pink, the lace, and the dollhouse, there’s no way he could get it up in this room.” Randi laughed at herself.

  “There’s no way Mr. Diamante is letting any boy near his angel.” Amanda now laughed at her thoughts.

  I was glad they could find all this funny. I didn’t want to change my room, out of fear it might change my life here. Things were good. Coming here had given me everything I had never had before: safety, protection, and freedom—well, sort of. I was free to be Angelina, not Fallyn. More than anything, this had given me someone who actually cared about me. After Papa Valencia, no one had seemed to care about me anymore, only what I could do for them.

  Sure, it was true Giano wouldn’t let any boy near me. He had overheard the girls talking one day and sat me down to have the talk about boys. He had said I needed a strong man.

  After everything he had given me and saved me from, there wasn’t a boy around who held a candle to my stranger. The longer I was here and around him, the more attached I became. The older I got, the more this changed.

  He was right. I did need a strong man and not a teenage boy. The transition from the ten-year-old girl when Giano got me to the sixteen-year-old Angelina hadn’t been the easiest. Sex education in school had really taught me how wrong things had been in my p
ast with my father. It had also made me wonder how far he would have taken things as I grew up. What would my life have been like if he was still alive? If I wasn’t with Giano would he have truly taken things even further?

  Locker room talk, as people said, was the worst. When the girls gossiped about hand jobs, blow jobs, and fingering, my insides clenched automatically. I could still feel the burn and the pain as if it happened merely last night.

  I looked out the window, wishing I could escape into the clouds as my friends continued their chatter.

  “I would gladly give Mr. Diamante a blow job under the bleachers,” Randi giggled. “I’d even swallow for him.”

  “I bet he is hung!” Amanda squealed, and I sighed.

  “Lina, your dad is seriously h-a-w-t, hot!”

  “Oh, stop, Randi, we don’t want to upset Sister Angelina. The nun will have to pray a thousand rosaries for our souls if we keep talking about her dad.”

  “I’m not a nun. I never said I was saving myself,” I tried to defend. How could I tell them I had been touched? I wasn’t innocent like they thought. In fact, I was dirty. I had never fought him off. Subconsciously, had I asked for it?

  “You’ve never even kissed a boy,” Amanda screeched, laughing at me. “So don’t tell me you’re not saving yourself. Virgin lips, virgin pussy.”

  “Why kiss a boy when she can wait for a man?” Giano stated from the doorway, startling all of us. “A man who will know how to treasure those lips and the young woman behind them?”

  I turned to look out of the window to hide my smile. Giano was never far away, and yet again, he had come to save the day for me.

  I reached up and touched my fingers to my lips, wishing I could know what it was like to have them be truly treasured by a man. Could a man like that really ever be found?

  Looking over my shoulder, I found his eyes staring at me, and something shifted inside me, as if I my question had been answered within the dark eyes burning into mine.

  “Oh, my,” Randi said in a breathless voice. “Hi, Mr. Diamante,” she quickly recovered.

  “I think it’s time for you two to go. Angel and I have dinner plans this evening.” He turned and walked down the hall without another word.

  “Your dad is seriously hot!” Randi added as she put on her shoes to leave.

  “Sex on a stick,” Amanda quipped, following Randi’s lead.

  “You’ve read too many of your mom’s romance novels, Mandy,” I chastised. “Time to go, girls,” I reminded them, breathing easier since they were leaving.

  I could take them in small doses. Really, I didn’t care to be around anyone very long except Giano. He understood me in a way my peers didn’t. Maybe it was our circumstance, or maybe it was just us and how we seemed to fit.

  My friends left, and true to his word, Giano and I went out to dinner. We entered the restaurant with me tucked comfortably at his side. Until recently, I had never paid attention to how we interacted. Call it hormones or the fact that all the teenagers around me wanted to talk about sex twenty-four-seven, but I found myself more aware of the small touches from Giano.

  Did he know that, when he put his hand at the small of my back, it sent shivers up and down my spine? More so, could he read my eyes every time he reminded me I needed a man and not a boy? Could he tell that I thought of him?

  This was a dangerous game I played. It was one I couldn’t seem to stop myself from, though. No matter how wrong I told myself it was, my body wanted to respond to his every breath. His presence in a room made my heart beat faster. His closeness opened my nostrils as I found this inner need to inhale his scent. I was like a starved animal when it came to his attention, and I didn’t even know why.

  From his sinister smirk when he was clearly annoyed to his sexy smile when he was flirting with someone to detract attention from the matter at hand to his serious, stern face, they all captivated me. I lived for every look, every moment, and every brief touch from him.

  At our table, he pulled out my chair. Once I was seated, he scooted me in then moved to sit across from me. We looked over the menus, and then Giano reached over and squeezed my hand from across the table as I ordered my meal. After we turned in our menus, he removed his hand, instantly leaving me cold.

  “What’s going on in that head of yours tonight, angel?” Giano asked as he picked up his glass of red wine.

  My mind drifted, wondering what the wine tasted like.

  Virgin lips.

  I wondered what his lips would taste like on mine.

  I picked up my glass of water, needing to cool off. Obviously my teen hormones were running wild. This man viewed me as a child. More than that, he saw me as his child. I was seriously sick and twisted.

  “Nothing,” I replied, hoping this appeased him.

  “There is something dancing behind those brown eyes of yours. What is it? School? Boys?”

  I sighed in response.

  He smiled a full smile with his beautiful white teeth glimmering at me. “Angel, you are young. Boys are not ready for the beauty that is all you. Don’t sweat your friends and their comments.”

  I bit my bottom lip, and then our food arrived just in time to save me from having to discuss this any further. After that, dinner passed by with casual pleasantries.

  Once home, Giano and I both headed to our rooms to ready for bed. The evening passed, and I was settled into Angelina’s canopy bed once more. The frill and fluff of the room brought a warmth inside me now. With each passing day, I became more at home with my new life. I didn’t ever feel normal, however.

  Giano and I had found a routine. We had come to a place where we spent more time together than ever before. He worked, I assumed, while I was in school or the few times I knew he left in the middle of the night. Twice, Uncle ZoZo had stayed with me, but the majority of my time outside of school was happily spent with Giano. We had Friday night movie night and Wednesday night pasta night where I picked the pasta, and he picked the sauce.

  For completely selfish reasons, I had even roped him into doing yoga every morning with me. Watching each of his muscles move as he stretched certainly was the best way to start my day. When I couldn’t master a position, there was my stranger to adjust me, his hands moving in just the right way to keep me stable and secure as always. Sure, I knew I was subconsciously twisting all of this in my mind to make it more than it was, but after everything life had given me, the very best was Giano. So what if I took it a little farther than I should have? Nothing ever happened beyond the daydreams in my mind.

  Thinking of my life with Giano did nothing to help me fall asleep. Tossing and turning, I tried to sleep; only, it didn’t happen. Going to the kitchen, I tried to remain quiet to avoid waking Giano. I was at the stove, warming milk, when the back door opened, and Giano entered the kitchen.

  He’d been out.

  Well, of course he has, I told myself. He was a thirty-something-year-old man. He didn’t bring women home, but if the talk from teen boys in high school was enough to go on, the man had needs. He was probably out, taking care of those needs … with some woman. My gut clenched at the thought of sharing my stranger with anyone. He meant so much to me in so many ways.

  I turned my attention back to warming my milk so Giano couldn’t see the hurt in my face.

  “Hello, angel, trouble sleeping?” he greeted.

  I simply shrugged my shoulders in reply.

  I shouldn’t feel this way. My goodness, look at how we came to be. I still had more questions than answers, and I had no claim on him. Then why did I feel such … jealousy?

  After adding honey and a splash of vanilla, I poured the contents of the saucepan into a mug. Then I began to move out of the kitchen.

  “Stay,” Giano called out, causing a tingle to run through me.

  I turned and made my way back into the kitchen. Sipping my milk, I then rested the mug on the island and leaned into it as I looked at the man in front of me.

  He was in black pants, a black
button-up shirt, and there was a menacing look to him tonight that spiked my adrenaline.

  “What is bothering you?” he questioned as if he had read my thoughts.

  “Nothing. Just couldn’t sleep.”

  “How many years has it been? I know you. I won’t ask again; what is bothering you?”

  I peeked up at him. “It’s stupid, really.”

  “Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?”

  “Will I ever be allowed to date?”

  He smiled his Giancarlo smile at me before cupping my chin in his hand. I closed my eyes tightly and leaned my face into his grip.

  “Have I ever told you that you couldn’t? Have I ever really denied you anything?”

  “Well, no, but everyone says you won’t let me.” I tried to justify my now very stupid question. It wasn’t like I had boys lining up at the door to ask me out, anyway.

  “You are a beautiful young woman.”

  Without opening my eyes, I whispered, “I don’t feel very beautiful. Virgin lips, remember? No one wants to kiss me.”

  “Ah, you are wrong, my angel.”

  I blinked my eyes just in time for his lips to brush softly against my own.

  “Virgin lips no more. Now rest, my angel, and give not a second thought to your friend’s comments from today. Save everything else for a man who deserves such treasures.”

  Before I could gather my thoughts and before the tingling against my lips could end, he released me and pushed off the island, brushing past me as he exited the room.

  I brought my fingertips to my lips as if the ghost of his still lingered there. Virgin lips no more. I touched my lips just as briefly as his lips had touched mine. A man who deserves such treasures. My stranger no more, he deserved to be treasured after all he had given me.

  Making my way to my room, I climbed into bed as my mind replayed his soft, all too quick kiss over and over again as I fell into a dreamless sleep. What was it about Giano that always kept the nightmares away?