Free Stay by Chelsea Camaron

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