Diary of a Rocker's Kid (D.O.R.K #1) (14 page)

Chapter 15

June 7, 2015

Day Redeemed

I feel almost guilty for writing this. It’s like I’m betraying all feminists everywhere. I know a guy isn’t supposed to be allowed to swoop in and save the day, but…

Oh. My. God.

He. Just. Did.

Saying “Giovanni Abate kissed me” would be like saying “Avenged Sevenfold is merely an ‘okay’ band.” Gio didn’t just kiss me. He rocked my world at its core and ruined me for every other guy on the planet. Now I understand why he wanted to tease me and draw it out. Waiting a day to give me what I wanted made me want it that much more.

He is so perfect…which scares the hell out of me. I just know there’s some massive imperfection that’s going to surface and ruin everything. When he was talking about drinking and his mother, it made me realize this guy might have some demons cooped up underneath that joyous smile. He’s always so happy and confident…there’s just got to be a cavernous store of pain locked up in there. When it surfaces, I hope I’m the one who gets to help him through it. After all, I know exactly how he feels when it comes to absentee mothers. We don’t like to talk about the abandonment because most of the time we like to pretend it didn’t happen.

Back at home when I was planning this trip, I kept getting this “feeling” I was supposed to come here this summer. Maybe Gio is the reason. I don’t know much about him yet, but it seems like he’s running away from something, and I might be the only one who knows what he’s running away from. I could be the key to getting him to open up about his past and deal with his feelings instead of drowning them with whiskey, tequila, and partying. Then again, he could be totally fine with the events of his life and he simply enjoys liquor. Honestly, I didn’t mind the feeling I got from that margarita. I wouldn’t mind having another one right now.

Dammit…this could have been the perfect weekend if only I had remembered to pick my glasses up before going over by the pool.

Ttyl,

Mads

***

In the morning, before any sane, normal person would ever be awake on vacation, Dad comes into my room and taps me on the shoulder, waking me up.

“What’s going on?” I moan. Gio brought me straight home after the beach last night, but I had a hard time going to sleep after that mind-blowing, life-altering, still-burning-my-lips first kiss.

“Sorry, baby girl, I couldn’t wait to show you this,” Dad whispers, and I gasp when I turn over to look at what he brought me. It’s a custom-made guitar, blood red with a tan scratch plate and neck, and it has the W3 logo emblazoned in a bold, red, dripping font just below the tailpiece.

“
Wow
…” I rise slowly to a sitting position.

“It was mine back when I was on my last tour before meeting you,” Dad explains. “This was the only custom-made guitar I ever had. I came across it this morning in storage, and I want you to have it…because I love you, and because you’ve been to hell and back this weekend.” He hands the guitar to me, and my hands tremble as I accept it. I feel like I’m handling a holy relic. I run my fingers down the smooth strings and let them fall on the letters at the bottom.

“Oh, Dad, this is beautiful.”

He sits on my bed next to me and gives me a side hug. “I am so sorry I freaked out on you yesterday morning. I just panicked. I had no idea it was all an accident, and I feel terrible you were humiliated like that.”

“It’s okay.” I lean into Dad, appreciating him more than ever. Giving me this guitar is the ultimate act of trust. He really does believe me. “This more than makes up for it.”

“You wanna come downstairs and plug this sucker up to see what she can still do?” Dad asks.

“Hell yeah!”

“Can I get a picture of you with the guitar first?”

My face turns to stone. “Dad, did you
really
just suggest a picture after—”

“Okay, never mind.”

Completely disregarding the hour, Dad and I set up a couple of amps in the sunroom, and I play the custom guitar while he plays my old one. He teaches me some of the old riffs and solos, and after a while, I’ve forgotten all about my exposure to the world. I’m playing W3 songs on the Grim Weeper’s custom guitar
with man himself. Thousands of people would
kill
to be me right now. Dad teaches me some of the lyrics too, and we work on harmonizing together. Cass and Ana come downstairs after a little bit, and then Cass takes the guitar from him, and we play to the sound of his voice.

I’m still shredding like crazy after both of them have quit, and then Gio comes to the back door. Cass lets him in, and his eyes grow wide as his gaze locks on to me. I keep on playing just to show off for him.

“
Hot fucking damn
,” he says at the end, not even caring that my dad is standing right there.

Dad clears his throat. “Hello, Gio.” His grin puts creases in his cheeks.

Gio purses his lips as if he wishes he could take those words back. “Hi, Mr. Daley.”

“Call me Mike,” Dad says, and Gio nods in assent.

“You here to join us for breakfast?” Cass asks.

“Yeah, if you don’t mind too much.”

“Well, then I guess we’d better get started.” Cass nods to Dad, and they head to the kitchen to cook French toast together. That’s my favorite of their ‘couple quirks.’ The mere smell of one of their breakfasts can wake me out of a dead sleep. Ana dismisses herself to take a shower, leaving Gio and me alone.

“Can I hear you play something else?” Gio asks as he sits down on the three-seater couch.

“Sure, what do you like?”

“Can you play ‘I Love Rock ’N‘ Roll?’”

My lip pulls up in an arrogant smirk. That’s a song I learned when I was twelve. I’m relieved he picked an older song I actually know. I start playing and singing my own version of the song, and even I have to admit it sounds pretty incredible with my voice. I glance up at Gio at the end of the first chorus, and he looks completely star-struck. Just to blow his mind, I blast through the rest of the song, jazzing up the final chorus with my best guitar riffs. When I’m done, he claps enthusiastically, and my face gets hot and I smile like an idiot.

“Play another one.” I play ‘Sweet Child of Mine’ by
Guns N’ Roses
. Then Gio asks, “Do you write any of your own music?” I nod. “Can you play me something you wrote?”

Suddenly, I feel like a shrinking violet instead of the Wonder Woman of rock ’n’ roll. “Uhh, I don’t know about that…”

“Come on, I won’t judge, I swear.”

“I dunno…”

“If you play me a song, I’ll take you on the red carpet with me.”

My eyes almost pop out of their sockets and fall into my open mouth. “
What?
Are you serious?”

“Yeah, totally,” he says with a huge grin.

A guttural sound pushes its way out of my throat. “Uh…I…I think I’m getting the better end of that deal!”

“Exactly, so now you have no excuse. Play me your song.”

Who could resist that teasing sparkle in his eyes? Those dimples?
That offer?

“Well…all right…” I clear my throat, steady my hands, and start into the song I’ve been working on over the past couple of months. It starts with a slow, mournful intro as I whisper-sing a softer version of the chorus. Then, as I move into the verse and the bridge, the chords get heavier and my gritty, melodic voice grows stronger.

Locked in a cage,

Frozen in chains,

Will it never be my day?

Always the same,

Always enslaved by this pain,

Someday I’ll break away.

I’m sleeping inside,

A prison of your own design,

I’m trapped in a cell,

Awaiting the day I escape this hell.

But nobody knows, nobody cares,

Tell me why they don’t know,

Why can’t I go out there?

Give me a chance, give me a choice,

And we can be free,

I’ll never again be.

Locked in a cage,

Frozen in chains,

Will it never be my day?

Always the same,

Always enslaved by this pain,

Someday I’ll break away.

My chords end abruptly. “That’s all I have so far.”

Gio struggles to produce words. “That…that was
incredible
! I’ve got to tell Dalton about you. He’s looking for bandmates, and you have just the style he’s looking for.”

My voice rises two octaves. “Really?”

“If you’re interested, that is. You probably have plans already—”

“No, I don’t. I’m interested.”

“Well, having you in his band would be a guaranteed win. This is…
fate
. Do you mind if I bring him over here sometime?”

“Not at all.” I take off the guitar and set it on the stand. “Bring him anytime.”

“Awesome.” Gio smiles, and I have to smile back.

“Five minutes!” Cass calls from the kitchen, and Gio stands from the couch. We cross the room to each other, and excitement jolts through me at the thought of getting to touch him again.

“I’m glad you came over. I was wondering when I’d see you next,” I say.

“Well, truthfully, I couldn’t wait any longer for a repeat of last night,” he whispers, making his slow approach. I swallow hard as he glances around to make sure we’re still alone, and then he presses a firm, yet gentle kiss to my lips. He tries to pull away like a good boy, but I hold his head down and kiss him again, letting our noses touch sides and burying my fingers in the little curls at the nape of his neck.

“
Dio, sei così bella
,” he whispers. His breath passes through my lips into my mouth, and I linger against him, relishing his closeness.

“What was that?”

“I said, ‘
God
, you’re so beautiful.’”

I smile against his lips. “I’m gonna have to say the same for you.”

He kisses me deeply, and then he pulls back with that adorable teasing grin of his. “Also, you rock. Literally.”

I giggle. This gorgeous Italian ping-pongs between being irresistibly romantic and a typical teenage guy. “Thanks.” I give him one more kiss, and then he drapes an arm around my waist as we head into the kitchen.

***

After breakfast, Gio takes me straight over to the villa to hang out alone. As soon as he shuts the front door behind us, he presses me up against it, bringing his lips down onto mine with magnetic force. I bury my hands in his hair and kiss him back with minimal restraint, glad to finally have him alone. It was torture sitting at that breakfast bar together and wanting nothing more than to lean over and kiss him again. We held hands under the counter, but it just wasn’t the same.

After a few minutes, Gio scoops me up in his arms and carries me away from the door. It’s the first time any guy has carried me, and I feel like I’ve literally been swept off my feet.

“Where are we going?” I ask breathlessly.

“My room.” He said that as if it was the most natural thing in the world. My eyes pop wide open, and he quickly explains. “I’m not expecting anything. This is just in case Steph comes home early. Sometimes he works from home.”

“Oh…okay.” I smile and lean against his sturdy shoulder as he easily carries me up the stairs to his room. He sets me down in front of his door, and he kisses me as he opens it behind me and nudges me inside. After the door is closed behind us, Gio picks me up again and strides over to his bed. He tosses me onto it like a doll and tickles the life out of me. I laugh and thrash, trying to get his hands off me.

“Stop! Stop!”

He chuckles at my protests. “You have the cutest laugh.”

“I can’t be held responsible for what I do to you,” I warn him through my giggles.

“Mm…I like the sound of that.” He keeps on tickling me, and I squirm even more.

“
Stop!
” I kick him with all my might while he’s off-balance, and he tumbles down onto the floor. Both of us pause in stunned silence, and then Gio bursts into laughter.

“I think that’s the second time I’ve ever had my ass kicked by a girl.”

“I am so sorry,” I mutter in horror. “Are you okay?”

“Never better.” He’s still laughing as he comes back up to lie beside me on the bed. “Now I’m even more convinced you’re Wonder Woman in disguise.”

He snakes a muscular arm around me and kisses me again, and I pull into him, holding his head and neck with my hands. His tongue touches my lips, and I hesitantly part them and let my tongue meet his. His mouth tastes like the cinnamon gum he spit out right before we came inside. It’s spicy, alluring, and sweet, just like him. We swirl our tongues in unison, creating a sort of slow dance meant just for us.