For Angelo(15)



“Are you guys going out?” Gretchen asked.

Lane groaned. “Oh my God, Gretch—”

“That is my objective, yes.”

“Oooooh. Now I know why this sweetie likes you.” She rolled her eyes. “This girl has it bad for men with big words.” She sniffed. “I’ve been telling her it’s better to look for men with big cocks—”

“Greeeeeeeeeetch.” Lane’s hands flew to cover her face in complete mortification.

“But I did tell you that,” the waitress protested.

“I know, but—”

But there was no point talking because Gretchen had turned back to Angelo, saying excitedly, “Tell me the truth. Did she have to lose her clothes to snag you? Be honest!”

“I swear to God, Gretch, if you don’t—”

The waitress laughed. “I’m going, I’m going.”

When the waitress left, Angelo took one look at Lane’s red face and said gently, “It’s okay. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” He paused. “But I do wish you had told me you’d be willing to go that far—”

Lane moaned in acute embarrassment and covered her face again. When he laughingly pulled her hands away, she tried to struggle but when it became clear he wasn’t letting go, she said almost pleadingly, “It’s not like what you think, okay? Gretchen just thinks I’m silly for spending my money on books, and when I told her she’s too cynical, thinking sex is the only way to get a guy, we ended up betting that if I ever end up dating—”

“Ah.”

“You believe me, right?”

He released her hands, saying, “Of course.”

She was about to sigh in relief when she saw Angelo’s lips curve in a smirk. “It’s true,” she insisted. “I would never—”

He raised a brow. Would you honestly never come to my bed if that were the only way?

She turned red, and when he laughed, she knew Angelo had his answer.

Gretchen came back then, saving her from having the need to insist on something she was no longer sure of. When the waitress left, she noticed him glancing at her milkshake and she asked, “Is it too weird that I ordered one?”

“Not at all.” Angelo managed to keep his voice bland. “It’s been a long time, but I once a dated a girl who’s…a bit like you.” It was a lie, though. The more time he spent with Lane, the more similarities between them turned up…and he didn’t like it.

Lane was surprised by Angelo’s revelation. “Really?” At his nod, she couldn’t help mumbling, “I bet she’s prettier than me.” She truly believed this, for she could not imagine someone like Angelo Valencia dating anyone imperfect. “Right?” Her voice was glum.

He said truthfully, “No.”

She perked up. “Uglier?”

“No.”

“Thinner?”

“No.”

“Curvier?”

“No.”

Rolling her eyes, she asked sarcastically, “Is she like my twin then?”

But Angelo only smiled, murmuring, “You really are a masochist.”

That was when the truth hit her, and she paled, feeling like she had just been sucker-punched.

Asking about one’s exes was uncool on a first date. Every girl was born with this knowledge, and Lane was no exception. And yet…she had done it anyway, had been unable to stop herself from doing so.

She had asked because something inside her demanded it, almost as if her heart had craved – anticipated – the twinge that would come.

Angelo watched Lane reach for her milkshake, and as she stirred it aimlessly with her straw, he heard her mumble, “I’m beginning to think you’re right.”

And so the moment had come, he thought.

He could choose to tell her to forget it, and she would stay as she was: innocent and undefiled. But he also knew that this decision would mean turning back on what they really were, and even if they did end up together, it would eventually run its course. People who could not accept the truth about their selves could never be happy, on their own…or with each other.

He had learned this the hard way.

“Angelo?” Lane’s caramel brown eyes pleaded with him for the truth. “Were you lying when you told me I was a m-masochist? Was it just a prank or something?”

On the other hand, he could throw caution to the wind and allow them to do what they had both needed – what they had both hungered for – since the very first day they met.

He heard himself say, “No.”

Lane jerked in her seat.

“You are a masochist, and I’m a sadist.”

She visibly trembled, and her lips parted as if the words had made her thirsty. The sight fed the hunger inside him, and he knew, just by the way she was looking at him, that he didn’t even have to seduce her into submitting to him.

She was already seduced.

His jaw clenched.

Not again, Angelo thought grimly.

The last time he allowed his desires to overrule his mind, he had ended up falling for the wrong girl.

And that girl had eventually left him.

“Angelo?”

Lane’s trembling voice pulled him out of the past. “What is it, tesoro?”

Marian Tee's Books