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

by Christina Benjamin

  “Blimey, woman! It’s not real,” he said through his laughter.

  Megan pressed a hand to her heart. “Shit! How many more of them are there?”

  “I don’t think I’ll tell ye just yet,” he murmured softly, still holding onto her other hand. Zander worried he liked the feel of it in his entirely too much, but he couldn’t bring himself to let go.

  Megan smiled, threading her fingers comfortably through his and squeezing. The innocent act sent Zander’s heart skittering to his throat, yet at the same time he felt tension escaping his body. He took a steadying breath as he shook his head at his own uncertainty. His first day with Megan hadn’t gone at all how he planned. But wasn’t that the precise reason he’d been so drawn to her?

  Megan wasn’t like anyone he’d ever met before. She kept him on his toes—and maybe that was a good thing?

  7

  Megan

  “So this is yer room,” Zander said opening the door to the massive bedroom suite.

  Megan’s mouth dropped open in awe again. She was going to have to get headgear to keep her jaw from snapping at this rate.

  “It’s beautiful,” she whispered taking in the gray stone walls and guazy white canopy bed. The white down comforter looked like a heavenly cloud. A curtain of fairy lights cascaded under the canopy and down the gathered swags on each of the four ornate bedposts. “Sam, is this the room you stayed in when you lived here?” Megan asked noting the similarities.

  “No,” Sam replied sounding a bit awestruck herself.

  “But it looks just like the pictures you sent me,” Megan replied.

  “Strangely it does,” Sam admitted.

  Zander looked uncomfortable as he stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I wanted ye lasses to be comfortable here so I did my best to make yer accommodations look as much like Sam’s old room as I could remember.”

  “That was really sweet of you,” Megan said. “Wasn’t it, Sam?”

  “Yeah,” Sam confessed, still looking a bit baffled.

  Zander cleared his throat. “Dev and Sam, I set ye up next door, if that’s alright?”

  “Perfect, mate,” Devon said clapping Zander on the back.

  “The bathrooms adjoin and ye should have everything ye need, but I’m just down the hall if ye need me.”

  “Well, g’night, then.” Devon grabbed Sam’s hand and led her back out of the room, with Eggsy padding merrily behind them.

  Megan didn’t miss the warning look Sam shot her over her shoulder. Megan knew it well. Pace yourself.

  “So,” Zander said when they were finally alone. “Is there anything I can do to help ye settle in?”

  Megan grinned. “I can think of a few things.”

  Zander’s green eyes grew hungry as they darted to her lips. Megan’s pulse quickened as he took a step toward her. She answered with two steps of her own and in seconds they were in each other’s arms as if a magnetic force had pulled them together.

  Megan was way too buzzed to fight her attraction to Zander, no matter how foolish and impulsive she was being. She was twenty-one years old, on a semester abroad, in the arms of the gorgeous Irishman she’d been fantasizing about for far too long. If he wanted her, she wasn’t going to object. There was no reason either of them shouldn’t enjoy themselves.

  Megan’s breath caught as Zander pressed his body against hers, backing her against the cold stone wall of her new bedroom. His head bent to hers and he pressed his lips to her neck making her knees go weak.

  Zander caught her as her balance faltered. “Megan? Ye alright?”

  “I might be a wee bit tipsy,” she admitted clinging to his solid biceps for balance. God he smelled good—like wild clover and fresh mountain rain. He should be the God damned Irish Spring spokesmodel. Shit, now she was thinking about sudsing Zander’s gorgeous body with a bar of Irish Spring soap! “Is it hot in here?” she asked.

  Zander backed away in concern. “Ye look a bit flushed, love.”

  Megan fumbled through her purse as she tried to catch her breath. She found her inhaler and took two quick puffs. Instantly the tightness in her chest loosened. So maybe the lightheadedness she’d been feeling wasn’t entirely due to Zander’s Zeus-like body?

  “Megan? What’s wrong?” Zander asked, his green eyes teeming with worry.

  “Oh, nothing. Sometimes my asthma acts up in cold weather, or when I’m over excited, or well, whenever the hell it feels like it really.”

  “I didn’t know ye have asthma.”

  She shrugged. “Why would you? It’s not a big deal.”

  Zander didn’t look convinced. He pulled her over to the bed and lifted her onto it. She sat on the edge, her feet swinging miles from the floor. Zander leaned in. From that height they were nearly eye level. “It is a big deal,” he murmured softly.

  “No, it’s really not. It’s not like a major disruption to my life or anything. Besides, it’s not pretty. I don’t go around boasting about my spazzy lungs.”

  “But it’s part of yer life.”

  Megan shrugged again. “Yeah . . .”

  “I like knowing all parts of ye, Megan. Even the ones ye think aren’t so pretty.” Zander kissed her on the forehead. “Which by the way, I think ye should know, I think all yer parts are adorable.”

  “Just adorable?” she asked.

  “What’s wrong with adorable?”

  “Nothing, if that’s what you’re into.”

  “Ye know what I’m into,” Zander murmured skimming a kiss along her jaw.

  Damn him and his magic lips. Zander’s kisses made Megan want to forget everything, but the nagging voice in the back of her head wouldn’t let her. “You’re sure you’re not into leggy blonde lingerie models?”

  Zander stiffened and Megan’s heart dropped. He stood up, raking a large hand over his face. The dazzling sparkle in his mischievous green eyes dulled and he suddenly looked tired.

  “I’m sorry,” Megan stammered. “You don’t owe me any explanation.”

  “No, I do.” Zander sat down on the bed next to Megan. “I’m sorry about Tabitha. I didn’t know she’d be at Finnegan’s tonight.”

  “Is there something between you two?”

  Zander shook his head. “Not anymore.”

  Megan read between his words. ‘Not anymore’—but there had been. She was quiet for a moment considering this. Her mind was a bit too jet lagged and booze-muddled to make sense of it. She knew constantly comparing herself to the supermodel wasn’t a healthy option. And if Zander said they were over then maybe there wasn’t any use in worrying about it.

  “Okay,” she murmured.

  “Okay?” The edges of Zander’s lips ticked up. “Really?”

  Megan smiled at him. “Did you want me to cry or something?”

  “Christ, no.”

  “Good. Cause I’m not that kind a girl.”

  “And what kind of girl are ye?” Zander asked leaning into her shoulder.

  His breath was warm against her cheek and Megan felt her heart flood with hope. “The kind that’s happy to be in Ireland with you,” she whispered.

  “I’m glad yer here too,” Zander admitted, grinning that crooked smile she loved. The one she’d grown so used to. The one that haunted her dreams in the most blissful ways.

  Megan leaned into his touch and their undeniable electricity crackled to life between them again. It couldn’t just be her. “Am I stupid for thinking maybe there could be something between us?” she asked.

  “Maybe,” Zander replied moving closer still.

  Megan’s voice came out breathless. “Maybe?”

  Zander’s hand moved to tuck her hair behind her ear. But he didn’t stop there. His fingers slipped between her dark locks until his hand was buried in her hair, cradling the back of her head as he angled it ever so slightly toward his. His voice came out soft and low. “Maybe.” Then he grinned. “But maybe I like being stupid with ye.”

  Before Megan could respond Zander’s lips were on hers. T
he kiss started slow, building and deepening with the strength of a growing inferno. He pulled her into his lap, his strong arms made her feel weightless as they tightened around her possessively. Megan’s head swam as her heart pounded in her chest. She could hear and feel her pulse everywhere as Zander’s kisses gathered speed.

  Breathless, Megan yielded, opening her mouth fully to him. His tongue swept hers hungrily. The way Zander kissed her made the world slow, until Megan’s entire existence narrowed to the feel of their two bodies clinging to each other. A tightness coiled insider her with each feverish stroke of his tongue.

  Megan gasped for air, tilting her head back. Zander took the invitation to burn a trail of ravenous kisses down her throat, each one shuddering through her with an echo of pleasure.

  A sharp rap on the bathroom door broke them apart. Megan was panting hard, but Zander managed to gather himself and stand in time to see Sam poke her head in.

  Megan was still straightening her shirt from where Zander’s hands had twisted the soft fabric tight.

  Sam looked appalled at her obvious intrusion. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize . . . I-I was just going to see if Megan needed the bathroom . . . never mind. Sorry.”

  Sam shut the door quickly and Zander huffed a laugh, raking his hand through his bedraggled hair. Megan flushed, realized she’d caused his rumpled look, fisting his hair like her life depended on it during their impassioned make out session. Good God, she was acting like a horny teenager.

  “To be continued?” he asked, not seeming at all embarrassed to have been walked in on by Sam.

  Megan bit her sore bottom lip, nodding fervently.

  Zander grinned and crossed the room in two short strides. He planted one last kiss on Megan’s swollen lips before dashing to the door. He turned back, and for a moment he looked torn between leaving and finishing what they started.

  Megan swallowed hard, not sure which was the better idea. Her silence seemed to make up Zander’s mind.

  He winked. “Goodnight, doll face.” And then he disappeared down the hall.

  The moment Megan was alone, she hopped back onto the mattress and rolled onto her stomach. She screamed into the overstuffed pillows cluttering her rumpled bed. She’d just made out with Zander O’Leary! She shrieked again and rolled onto her back with an uncontrollable grin plastered on her face. She didn’t care how much of a horny teenager it made her, she was on cloud nine.

  She’d be Zander’s stupid mistake all semester if it meant she could continue kissing him like that. She wanted so much more, kissing him had made her absolutely certain of her feelings for him. But Megan had learned it was always better to take what she could get.

  She sighed as she gazed at the twinkling fairly lights suspended above her bed with a stupid grin on her face. The lights swayed in her vision and she tried to blink life back into her tired contacts. No such luck. Now the lights had started to spin.

  “Not the spins,” she muttered clamping her eyes shut. “Stupid Jäger.”

  Megan never learned. Jäger was not her friend. It seemed like it at first, making her feel invincible and sexy, but later it always turned on her, making the world spin until she ended up cursing on the bathroom floor.

  Dragging herself from bed, Megan grabbed her purse and made for the shared bathroom. She needed Tylenol, a shower and her glasses, stat. Make that a cold shower if she expected to get any sleep after Zander’s Olympic kiss session.

  Megan slumped her heavy red purse on the bathroom counter and dug around for her glasses and Tylenol. She gulped down two pills and tossed her contacts in the trash. It didn’t help her dizziness but hopefully the cold water would do the trick.

  She was about to lock the shared bathroom door that led to Sam and Devon’s room when she heard them arguing on the other side. She didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but they never fought, and Sam’s sharp voice stopped Megan in her tracks.

  “I don’t care, Devon. You need to talk to him.”

  “Sam, angel, ye really don’t need to get so worked up. They’re both adults. Ye don’t need to mother them.”

  Megan sucked in a breath. Never play the mother card, Dev! She waited to hear Sam mutter angrily and stomp away. But to Megan’s surprise, she only heard sniffling, and then Devon’s soothing voice. “Sweetheart, please don’t cry.”

  Cry? Did Devon just say cry? Sam never cried. The girl was like a fortress, never letting emotion crack her impenetrable exterior. Apparently losing a mother as a child had that effect on people—or at least it had on Sam.

  Megan swallowed her guilt. Was that why Sam was so stressed out lately? Did she think she needed to mother them all? It was true they were a rather strange group of misfits and orphans. Zander had no parents, Devon no father, and Sam no mother. Megan had an amazing mother and a step-dad she adored, but this was the first time she’d ever been away from them in her twenty-one years of existence. Maybe Sam felt the pressure to mother all of them through this strange transition to Ireland for the next few months.

  “I can’t help it,” came Sam’s muffled voice. “I don’t trust Zander not to hurt her.”

  “He’s not the same guy he used to be, Sam. He’s come a long way.”

  Megan could practically hear Sam’s eyes rolling.

  “He brought two girls to the pub tonight,” Sam replied.

  “Yeah, I don’t know what he was thinking there,” Devon admitted. “But Megs is a smart girl. She can make her own decisions, angel.”

  “I know I just don’t want to see her go through the heartache we did.”

  “Aye, but look how grand things worked out for us?”

  “We were lucky.”

  The room was silent and Megan imagined Devon was pulling Sam close to kiss the top of her head the way he did when she was being moody. Megan found herself wondering if it was odd that she knew that about her friends. It was funny the way you got to know someone when you lived with them.

  Satisfied that Sam and Devon had tabled the drama for now, Megan turned on the shower. She hopped in, letting the cold water shock the throbbing Jäger buzz from her head.

  Megan wished she could find a way to convince her best friend that she didn’t need to worry about her. Devon was right. Megan was a grown ass woman and she was responsible for her own actions. She knew falling for Zander was a risk. But it was too late to stop herself. She’d rather pursue him and fail, than regret never trying. She’d survived plenty of broken hearts. And Megan’s philosophy was always that it was better to be burned then never experience the warmth of the flames.

  8

  Zander

  Zander woke early. He’d had a piss poor night of sleep and was tired of tossing and turning. He couldn’t get Megan out of his head. Having her sleeping just a few doors down from his was proving a near impossible temptation. Twice he’d had to talk himself down from going to her last night.

  He honestly didn’t know what the hell was wrong with him. Zander never had women troubles. Mostly because ye never let them in, ye wanker, his subconscious chastised. “And whose fault is that?” Zander muttered to himself.

  He dressed quickly and laced up his trainers, knowing a run was the only way to set his head straight. He whistled for Eggsy. Zander heard the hound whining from inside Devon and Sam’s room and quickly let him out, slinking into the inky darkness that preceded the dawn.

  Zander’s knee was killing him, but he pressed himself harder. He had a killer day ahead of him and he’d never survive it if he didn’t exercise some of his demons. His damn knee would have to wait. Zander had been putting off surgery for months after aggravating an old football injury when he was messing about with some blokes from the Shamrock Rover’s football club. He’d been invited to play in their charity exhibition game last month and had gone a bit too hard.

  His doctor recommended surgery to repair the damage, but Zander didn’t have the time to be laid up with knee surgery. Cor-Tec kept him too busy. And he’d assured his doctor he would do the necessary
physical therapy to strengthen his stability. Normally he did, but sometimes life got in the way. Sometimes he had to just run through the pain and deal with it. But that was life, wasn’t it? Pushing past the pain only made you stronger.

  Zander had learned quickly that he preferred not to rely on others for help.

  He blamed his rocky upbringing for that character flaw. He knew he shouldn’t continue to place the blame on others, but he couldn’t help it. Zander hadn’t ever had a solid relationship that he could count on. His mother had died when he was a child, his father had abandoned him shortly after, and Sophie, the last girl Zander had truly loved, had only been using him to get to Devon.

  So it wasn’t any wonder why Megan was throwing him for a loop. He’d foolishly let her in, thinking she was too far away to ever hurt him. But now that she was here he couldn’t stop thinking about how much he wanted to keep her here. And Zander hated how weak that thought made him feel, because he knew he couldn’t keep her. She’d go back to Boston at the end of the semester—and where would that leave him?

  Zander was beginning to think maybe he’d been a fool to bring Megan to Ireland at all. He could handle pain, but he wasn’t a masochist. Even he had a breaking point. And Zander had a feeling he’d soon reach it.

  Megan

  Megan slept better than she’d expected considering her Jäger-jet lag hangover. When she woke she had to pinch herself. She was actually in Ireland, living in what she could only describe as a castle. And best of all . . . she’d kissed Zander!

  She practically floated out into the hall, where she promptly tripped over a massive furry rug.

  “Shit,” Megan muttered, realizing the rug was actually Eggsy. “What are you doing out here?” she asked the moping wolfhound sprawled outside of Sam and Devon’s room.

  Eggsy bayed woefully and Megan knelt down to scratch his scruffy face. “You’re just pitiful, aren’t you?” she crooned.