The Boyfriend Series Box Set (Books 1-6): YA Contemporary Romance Novels

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The Boyfriend Series Box Set (Books 1-6): YA Contemporary Romance Novels Page 8

by Christina Benjamin


  It seemed he’d finally found something that she was passionate about. It was the first time he’d heard her responses not sound like an automated reading of Wikipedia. He noted the adorable dimple she had in her right cheek when she laughed. He found himself absurdly jealous of the outpouring of love that Custard conjured in Hannah. He couldn’t wait to meet the fur ball and size him up.

  It turned out it was impossible not to like Custard. The chubby corgi greeted them at the door with excited yips and tail wagging. It was Mr. Stark that needed coaxing from Hannah.

  “Dad, I’m home.”

  There was a muffled response from somewhere in the cluttered house.

  “I brought a friend from school over.”

  Another muffled grunt.

  “I’ll be right back,” Hannah said apologetically before disappearing with Custard hot on her heels. Cody couldn’t help but smile as he watched the little dog jog adoringly after Hannah, his short legs tripping over the mess of wires and books that covered the living room floor.

  Cody’s eyes absorbed the cheerfulness of Hannah’s home. It was small, but exploding with color and life. Every mismatched piece of furniture was covered with either books or framed portraits of Hannah smiling brightly back at him. There were framed diplomas, trophies and knickknacks everywhere—globes, antique clocks and model cars. Cozy blankets of different sizes and colors draped the back of the eclectic chairs and sofas, inviting him to sit and stay awhile. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason to the decorating style of the house and Cody loved it.

  He was smirking and shaking his head when Hannah reappeared with two bottles of water.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Nothing,” he replied coyly. He followed her up the stairs to her bedroom and laughed when he entered the room. “Now this is more like it.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, hands on her hips.

  “To see into ones room, is to see into their soul.”

  “That’s not a quote,” Hannah scoffed.

  “Well it should be. I was starting to think I had you all wrong, but this room is you, down to the perfectly pressed vanilla drapes and matching comforter.”

  “I like order. You saw the rest of my house. It’s a bit . . . busy. I find I’m most productive in a calm environment.”

  “You mean bland environment,” Cody teased tossing the plainest beige pillow he’d ever seen at Hannah.

  “Hey!”

  Custard barked and promptly leaped onto the pillow making himself comfortable.

  Hannah crouched down and scratched his neck before giving him a kiss on the head. “Don’t you look like a little prince,” she crooned in a childish voice.

  “More like a fat old king,” Cody joked.

  Hannah mocked insult and tried to cover Custard’s gigantic ears. “Don’t you listen to the grouch, Custard. He’s just jealous.”

  Custard barked in agreement and Cody laughed. “Alright, we haven’t got all day. Let’s get this movie marathon started.”

  Hannah started out taking notes, but halfway through Pretty Woman she gave up.

  “I can’t believe you Pretty-Womaned me at Neiman Marcus! This movie is ridiculous!”

  “It’s a classic,” Cody argued lounging on her bed with Custard traitorously cuddled next to him. One belly rub was all it took and he’d been laying paws up next to Cody for the remainder of the movie.

  “How is a prostitute falling for a rich guy a classic?”

  “It’s like a modern Cinderella.”

  Now it was Hannah’s turn to throw a pillow. “This is the most chauvinistic, unlikely, degrading . . .”

  “Isn’t that what fairytales are?” Cody laughed.

  Hannah sighed. “Yes, and I suppose that’s why I’m not a fan of fairytales. But this is still a terrible movie.”

  “No way! I love Pretty Woman.”

  “Oh, please! Are you telling me if you were Richard Gere you’d fall for her?”

  “She knows cars. That’s hot.”

  Hannah rolled her eyes.

  “And she’s easy to talk to. Plus I like all her random facts.”

  “Random facts?”

  “Don’t think I didn’t see you checking the length of your foot,” Cody taunted, playfully grabbing Hannah’s feet. “It’s true, you know? Your foot is as long as your elbow to your wrist,” he said skimming his fingers teasingly over her captive feet.

  She squealed, in terror. “No!”

  “Is someone ticklish?”

  She shook her head fervently, but her flushed cheeks and wide eyes gave her away and Cody lunged. He and Custard ganged up on her, pinning her to the bed and ruthlessly tickling her—Custard’s wet nose worming its way to her ears and neck.

  “Omigod! No! Stop!” Hannah’s protests and squealing laughter peeled through the room, mixed with Custard’s barking and Cody’s taunts.

  Hannah tried to fight back but Cody wasn’t nearly as ticklish and his precise attacks to her thighs and ribs turned her muscles to jelly, leaving her breathless.

  Cody straddled her, knees on either side of her hips. She squirmed and he laughed, weaving his fingers with hers as she tried to fend him off. She was suddenly mesmerized by the joy on his beautiful face. This was the second time today Hannah was seeing behind the veil—the real Cody—not the dark, brooding boy he wanted the world to see.

  Her heart hammered in her chest. Hannah stilled, her cheeks rosy as she gazed at her reflection in his dark eyes. Cody stopped moving too. His face was inches from hers, his warm breath mixing with hers. Cody pushed her hands above her head, their fingers still intertwined. She licked her lips, trembling at the confusing emotions racing through her.

  Suddenly this didn’t feel like practice. But it didn’t feel wrong either.

  21

  Hannah’s shiny blonde hair was sprawled out on the bed like a crown. Cody wanted to touch it. He wanted to touch all of her. He wanted to bury himself in her beauty and drive away the remaining darkness that had tried to drown him today. But he couldn’t. Not without consequences. Not without screwing everything up. But just the same, he couldn’t pull himself away from Hannah either.

  Watching her lick her delicate pink lips sent shockwaves straight to his core. He was losing his resolve. And then she bit her lip, looking at him with a strange mix of desire and fear. Shit, pull away, Cody. But he couldn’t. He was transfixed in the moment, powerless to her will. How was this beautiful creature untouched? Was that the only reason he wanted her?

  Hannah blinked as though she’d heard his thoughts and let go of his hands. Good, he thought. Pull away from me, because I’m too weak to do it myself.

  But instead of pushing him off, Hannah’s hands settled on either side of Cody’s face. She slid one hand into his hair making him shudder and close his eyes. Her other hand delicately traced his jaw until she reached his lips. He parted them and exhaled her name, but she swallowed his words, pressing her lips to his.

  The kiss ignited a spark that threatened to combust everything around them. Cody sighed into the kiss and let go of his final ounce of restraint. He’d been holding onto his darkness for over a year and Hannah had been slowly poking holes in his armor, shining in bits of light. But it wasn’t enough to sustain him. He’d had a taste and he wanted more—needed more.

  Their hands chased each other, greedily stripping away the clothing keeping them apart. Cody fisted his hands in Hannah’s hair, kissing her desperately. And from the way she kissed him back, it was evident that this was no longer pretend.

  Shit! Stop this right now, Matthews.

  But he couldn’t. Not when Hannah was laying before him looking like an angel in the lingerie he bought her.

  To conquer the world, indeed.

  Cody was convinced there was no one on the planet who could resist Hannah when she was looking at him the way she was right now. Full of hope and promises. Cody had no doubt that if he let her, Hannah would take away his pain and self-loathing.
He knew he could bury himself in her goodness for a while. But would she be just another Band-Aid or could she really heal him? And how bad would he destroy her in the process?

  He didn’t have time to contemplate. A sharp knock at the door broke them from their trance. Hannah quickly jumped to her feet and threw on an oversized sweatshirt and pajama pants that were conveniently resting on her desk chair, while Cody scrambled into his khakis and t-shirt.

  Hannah quickly checked her reflection in the mirror and smoothed her hair down. She looked at Cody who was now sitting on the bed looking a bit shell shocked. Custard was sitting at his feet wagging his tail. Hannah creaked the door up to see her father’s anxious face.

  “Hey, Dad.”

  “Everything all right up here? I thought I heard yelling.”

  “Yes everything’s fine. Just watching movies and playing with Custard.”

  Her father tried to peer around her into the room. “Dad, do we have any popcorn?” she asked distracting him from the disheveled appearance of her bed. “We need movie snacks.”

  “Yes. The air pop is in the pantry.”

  “Great! Can you help me get it down,” she asked, moving into the hall and tugging her father with her. He nodded distractedly. “Cody, queue up the next film, I’ll be back in a minute,” she called over her shoulder, desperately hoping he’d still be there when she got back to her room. The haunted look on his face the moment before her father interrupted them worried her.

  22

  Cody paced Hannah’s room and chastised himself for letting things go too far. Get it together, Matthews. Today had snowballed. The best thing he could do was leave and pretend it never happened. Denial—that was something he was good at, something he was prepared for. Unlike this . . . whatever this was. He rubbed his face in frustration. How the hell had Hannah Stark disarmed him?

  He needed to leave before things got even more out of hand. Cody moved around the room collecting his articles of discarded clothing. He found his tie lying across Hannah’s desk. He marched over to snag it and glanced at the open notebook it was resting on. Cody blinked in disbelief as he read Hannah’s scrawling penmanship on the page.

  Keep your eyes on the prize.

  Get the key.

  Get the guy.

  Make memories.

  Give epic graduation speech.

  Check high school perfection off my résumé.

  “Practice makes perfect.”

  He snorted. “And she thinks fairytales are fucked up.”

  Maybe Cody was wrong. Hannah didn’t feel anything, she was just using him. That was their deal, after all. He sighed, his mind mingled with a mix of disappointment and relief. He needed to get over it. Whatever moment he thought he had with Hannah hadn’t been real. And it didn’t matter—he wouldn’t let her matter.

  After Elena, he vowed not to let anyone in again. So what if Hannah was using him. At least she was upfront about it. Cody had used plenty of people. This was probably just karmic payback. Besides, wasn’t he using her too? Playing their twisted game was better than facing the dark pain that came crashing in whenever he was alone.

  Cody looked back at the notebook and smirked. Maybe they could both get what they wanted. She could be his distraction and he could be her whipping boy.

  Hannah padded back into the room with a huge bowl of popcorn and Custard at her heels.

  “Sorry,” she grimaced once she’d closed the door. “I told you, my dad is always here.”

  Cody shrugged. “I ordered pizza,” he said without looking up from his phone.

  “Oh. Okay.”

  Hannah studied Cody for signs of the boy she’d been kissing earlier. But it was obvious he was gone—once again replaced with an aloof imposter. She sighed, telling herself it was better this way.

  “Shall we continue with your education?” Cody asked, finally putting his phone down and looking at her with his piercing dark eyes.

  He was sitting on her bed in his soft gray t-shirt and rumpled khakis, his feet bare. How was it possible to look so casual and sexy at once? Cody threaded his hands behind his head, exposing his perfect abs and Hannah swallowed hard.

  “Um, I don’t think that’s such a good idea with my dad here.”

  Cody smirked. “I was talking about the movie,” he said gesturing to the television with the remote and pressing play. “Besides, you’re showing improvement. You can cross kissing and foreplay off your list. I guess practice really does make perfect, doesn’t it?” he mocked.

  Hannah hated the haughty detached tone of Cody’s voice. But what had she expected? That’s why she’d chosen him. He was a grade-A asshole. Well that and he’s the only one she had enough leverage over to blackmail. Sure, they’d shared a rare moment of companionability and even chemistry, but that’s all it was—a fluke, probably brought on by the post-endorphins of his panic attack.

  “I told you I was a quick study,” Hannah quipped grabbing her notebook and climbing onto her bed. “What’s up next?”

  “Cruel Intentions.”

  Hannah shook off the eerie feeling the movie title invoked and called Custard up to sit between them. Going forward, a barrier would be necessary. Caring about Cody Matthews wouldn’t help Hannah achieve her goals.

  23

  Hannah enjoyed the twisted teen film more than she’d expected. It was better than Pretty Woman at least. But Cody was notably agitated. Perhaps watching the love interest get killed by a car hit too close to home. Hannah felt bad, but then she reminded herself to keep her feelings out of it.

  “So do girls really do that?” she asked when it was over. “Practice kissing and sex with each other?”

  “I don’t know, Hannah. You’re the girl.”

  “Yes, I am a girl. But I’m normal. I need you to tell me what’s normal for the Goldens.”

  “They do a lot of fucked up things. This movie is basically their anthem, and I don’t mean the ending where they all wake up and feel bad for the shit they’ve done. They’re conniving assholes who get off on power and manipulation. You should fit right in,” he muttered gathering his things.

  “That’s uncalled for, Cody. We have a deal.”

  “Yes, I know. You won’t let me forget it.”

  “Well where are you going? I thought we were going to watch Mean Girls and Can’t Hardly Wait?”

  “I’m done for today. We can pick it up tomorrow.”

  “I have my tennis match tomorrow,” Hannah called after him.

  Cody was already out the front door when Hannah caught up to him. “Wait, I have to drive you.”

  “It’s a mile, Hannah. I think I can handle it.”

  “But my car’s at your house.”

  He was already in the driver’s seat. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow.”

  “Oh so you’re taking me to my tennis match at the crack of dawn?” she taunted.

  Cody sighed and slumped his head against the steering wheel before finally unbuckling his seatbelt. He slid out and walked around to the passenger seat, grumbling the whole way.

  “Can you give me a minute to change?” Hannah begged. “I’m sort of in my pajamas.”

  Cody flicked his wrist dismissively without looking at her and Hannah retreated to switch her plaid pajama bottoms for yoga pants. She swooped her hair up in a messy bun and stuffed her feet into her favorite converse before jogging out to the Range Rover.

  Cody’s head was in his hands when she approached. Hannah picked up her pace worried he was having another panic attack.

  “You okay?” she asked when she got in.

  “Fine,” Cody grumbled rubbing his temples.

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m not that fragile, Hannah,” Cody barked. “Can you just drive me home and retrieve your car?”

  Hannah almost made it the short drive to Cody’s without caving in, but the flashbacks of her mother’s depression and panic attacks pulled at her heartstrings. She knew Cody wasn’t fine. Hannah was sensitive to the sign
s. Agitation, mood swings, deep breathing, shaking, headaches . . . He’d displayed them all on the drive. She refused to do nothing and let this sickness steal someone else.

  “Cody, I know the movie upset you. We can talk about it if it’ll help.”

  “It won’t.”

  Good, he admitted he was upset at least. “I bet I’m cheaper than your therapist,” she grinned trying to lighten the mood.

  “Let it go, Hannah.”

  “No, Cody. You can’t keep things bottled up. That’s what my mom did and—”

  “I’m not your mother!” he yelled.

  “I know that. And I’m trying to make sure you don’t become her.”

  Cody stared at her with anger and confusion as Hannah pulled into his driveway and parked.

  “I lied okay. My mom didn’t just leave. She killed herself! She took a bath with a bottle of pills and left us a sweet little note that said she needed to leave.”

  Cody’s eyes were wide and full of pain. “I’m sorry,” he said softly.

  “Don’t be sorry. Be better than she was. You can’t leave your problems behind. You need to deal with them or they’ll drown you.”

  Cody shook his head and Hannah could see his self-loathing.

  She put her hands on his cheeks and gripped his face hard making him look at her. “Cody, you’re not a lost cause.”

  His face was so close to hers she could feel his breath. When Hannah looked at him she saw the boy he kept hidden. The one who still possessed goodness. He leaned his forehead against hers and for a moment they both held their breath, shouldering each other’s pain.

  When Cody opened his eyes, they were dark. He caught a tear from Hannah’s cheek. “Some people aren’t worth saving,” he whispered slipping from her grasp and exiting the car.

  He was up the stone steps, disappearing into the house before she even turned the car off. Hannah swiped the tears from her face, angry that thoughts of her mother still held such power over her.

 

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