The Accidental Boyfriend: A YA Contemporary Romance Novel (The Boyfriend Series Book 7)

by Christina Benjamin

  At first, it was romantic as hell. But now, it was so choreographed, with Alex’s crew of video puppets recording every angle, that it lost its charm for Brooke. That and she knew that Alex wasn’t the Brazilian Romeo everyone thought he was. The more she got to know him, the less Brooke liked him. But for Lucy’s sake, she tried to tolerate him.

  When Brooke reached the line for the ladies room she pulled out her phone and tapped out a quick text to Lucy. WHERE ARE YOU?

  Lucy replied a moment later. ALMOST THERE.

  Alex

  The muscles in Alex’s jaw twitched while he watched Brooke disappear into the milling crowd of the stadium. Something was up. Lucy’s weirdo roommate was almost being nice to him. That never happened.

  He ran a hand through his short dark hair and checked the time on the scoreboard. Alex growled at the clock. Lucy had better get her ass here soon. The girl needed to know her role.

  Lately, Lucy had been acting defiant, and it was starting to really chap his ass. Alex didn’t have time for it. He should be focusing on the game, not worrying about where his little good luck charm was. That was the only reason he’d kept her around so long. That and his fans loved her.

  Lucy had that likeability factor that drew people to her. Alex always thought it was because of her tiny size and big doe eyes. Whatever it was, his fans went gaga for her whenever he posted videos of the two of them together. But, since Lucy decided to drag ass today, Alex pulled his cell phone out and started a live video. The camera was facing him—of course—and he waved while showing the crowded stadium scene behind him. When he was done recording, he faced the crowd, waving to them in thanks for their cheers. That’s when Alex’s eyes snagged on a familiar face in the crowd.

  Trista McAllister gave him a seductive grin and a coy little wave from her seat. Damn. That girl . . . she was a whole different kind of charm. Trista was wearing white thigh-high socks and her Saint Andrews uniform skirt hiked up so short that the whole damn stadium could see her red panties flashing beneath it. Shit she looked hot. Alex had half a stiffy just looking at her. He admired her confidence.

  If you got it flaunt it, right?

  That was his motto.

  And Alex most certainly had it.

  Only a few more games left and he’d be graduating high school and signing with a pro soccer team. Hell, he had the world at his feet. Teams were competing for his attention and brands beating down his door with sponsorship offers. Everything was as it should be. Everything but Lucy.

  Alex ground his teeth when he checked the time again. Screw it. He’d kiss Trista before kickoff if Lucy didn’t get her skinny ass to the game in time. It’s not like she’d do anything about it. Alex gave Trista a wink and jogged back over to his teammates without an ounce of guilt.

  3

  Jaxon

  Yep, today was a really bad day. Halfway through his run, Jaxon knew running wasn’t going to cut it today. Usually he could outrun his frustrations. Hell, it was half the reason he’d taken up the sport. But today was different. Today was worse than usual. Today was the anniversary of his mother’s death.

  Jaxon knew running was useless. Everything was. No matter how hard he pushed himself, he would still feel the anger simmering below the surface.

  He was pissed at the world, he was pissed at God, he was pissed at himself, but most of all, Jaxon was pissed at his father. He knew it wasn’t fair, but nothing about life was fair.

  All Jaxon knew as anger swelled in his lungs was that he needed his father to get his life back together. Jaxon couldn’t do it on his own. And he shouldn’t have to. Wasn’t that what family was for? To help you when you’re at your worst? Apparently Jaxon’s father hadn’t gotten that memo. After Jaxon’s mother died, his father had selfishly fallen apart, drowning himself in booze, not even caring that he still had two sons who needed him.

  Jaxon’s father was a cop. Or at least he had been. He used to be a great cop actually, but now he was nothing. Before the accident, Martin Bradburn had been chief of police at a precinct in San Diego. But now he was barely a shadow of the man he used to be. He’d lost his job a year ago. Now all he seemed to do was sleep and drink, drink and sleep. Jaxon didn’t know which he preferred. The sleeping sucked, but when he wasn’t asleep he was completely checked out, wallowing at the bottom of an empty bottle.

  Alcohol was always a problem for his father. But it used to be he only drank Jack and only when he was working a really bad case. But now, he drank anything he could get his hands on. That’s when the problem became too big for Jaxon and his brother Conner to deal with on their own. Conner called their Uncle Steven and that’s why Jaxon now found himself running through the posh streets of Bel Air instead of his old familiar neighborhood in San Diego.

  Jaxon, Conner and their father moved in with Uncle Steven over the summer. He was the head of surgery at Cedars-Sinai in Los Angeles and had plenty of room for them all in his palatial home, but Jaxon still missed San Diego. He missed his old life and how easy everything had been. He missed living in a neighborhood and seeing all his old friends. He missed a lot of things, but mostly, he missed his mother.

  Jaxon felt like an imposter in Bel Air. The lyrics to The Fresh Prince came to mind when he’d moved to town, but unfortunately, Jaxon was no Will Smith. He didn’t fit in with the new posh lifestyle he found himself in.

  It didn’t help that Jaxon was attending a new fancy prep school in a new fancy city. He felt bad complaining, especially since his uncle went through so much trouble to get him into Saint Andrews Prep, but Jaxon just wasn’t a fancy kinda guy. He grew up in a modest house with a modest life. Fixing cars with his brother and playing basketball with his friends. That was enough for him.

  He felt like a fish out of water in LA. There was nothing modest about anything in Los Angeles. The neighborhood Jaxon ran through was jaw-dropping. It oozed money to a sickening degree. Jaxon didn’t really have anything against the rich and fabulous. If people earned that kinda money and wanted to live that way, well that was their right. But it just wasn’t for him.

  He didn’t feel like he belonged in LA and he knew no amount of time would change that. But then again, Jaxon wasn’t really sure where he belonged anymore. He had a sneaking suspicion it wouldn’t matter where the hell he lived. Nothing would ever feel like home again.

  After his mother died, the things he loved about his hometown started to fade away. He couldn’t drive past the accident site, he quit playing basketball, he pretty much quit everything. If he could’ve quit life he would have, but he knew that wouldn’t solve anything and it would only cause more pain for his family.

  And maybe that’s why it hurt Jaxon so much that his father was just giving up. Jaxon understood better than anyone how bad it hurt to lose someone he loved. He knew the desire to just stop caring about anything; but he hadn’t. He’d done the best he could because he knew it was what his mother would’ve wanted and it was what he owed his brother and his father. But his father was just being a damn coward!

  The thought rattled around Jaxon’s head on repeat as he pounded pavement. No matter how far he traveled, he couldn’t outrun it. Exhaling his frustration, Jaxon stopped at the crosswalk to catch his breath while he waited for the lights to change. He held his wrist up to check the fitness app on his watch to see how far he’d run, but the time and date staring back at him made his heart plummet. Goosebumps raced across his back despite the hot afternoon sun. He knew what today was. He’d never forget it. But looking at those simple numbers chilled him to the bone. It was the date of his mother’s accident. And nearly the same time too.

  The date hadn’t slipped by him. Not even close. The anniversary of his mother’s death had been on Jaxon’s mind all day. But seeing it while he stood on the roadside nearly sent him into a flashback. That date and time had been seared into his mind. It was the last thing he saw on the dashboard before it all happened. The last thing he saw before his mother screamed . . .

  It took mo
re than a moment for Jaxon to catch his breath. Sometimes he still couldn’t believe his mother was gone. He’d catch himself wanting to tell her something or ask her a question before reality punched him in the gut. These lapses only ever lasted for a fleeting second, and they were fewer and far between lately. But currently, one snuck up on him, grabbed his heart and squeezed.

  The time and date made Jaxon realize that just one year ago he’d still had a mother. Of course, as soon as he formed the thought, reality rushed in and crushed the air from his lungs, just as it always did.

  “Shit!” Jaxon mumbled, wiping his brow and fighting the nausea rising in his throat. It’d been a whole year for Christ’s sake. How long would it take to feel like he could breathe again? How long before he could close his eyes without worrying he’d relive the accident for the millionth time?

  The loud cautionary beeping of the crosswalk cut into Jaxon’s grief-addled mind and he realized he’d missed his chance to cross. He swore under his breath and pushed the crosswalk button again, resigned to wait. He tried to gather his thoughts, but the accident kept creeping in. Smashing glass, screeching metal, screaming . . . and the blood. There had been so much blood.

  One year ago today, Jaxon, Conner and their mother had been coming home from Jaxon’s high school basketball game when out of nowhere their car was broadsided. Jaxon and Conner were both fine. They’d been wearing their seatbelts, but their mother hadn’t. And it had made all the difference.

  There wasn’t a moment that went by that Jaxon didn’t relive that day and wish he’d done just one thing differently—just one thing that would’ve meant he would’ve been anywhere else but in that exact spot, resulting in the exact outcome that stole his mother and wrecked his life. But there was nothing he could do to change things. He knew that. The only option Jaxon saw now was to carry on and figure out how to put together some sort of life from the wreckage. Because if he didn’t he might as well have died in that car too. And that was no way to honor his mother.

  Lucy

  Finally the light turned green and Lucy let off the brake. She cruised through the intersection grinning at the open road ahead of her. She’d definitely made the right call to steer clear of the main roads in the valley. It was a more direct route to the soccer stadium, but at this time of day the traffic was at a stand still. Instead, Lucy was weaving through the ritzy neighborhoods of Bel Air.

  A pang of envy washed through her as she drove past her old street. She’d grown up in this neighborhood, in a big beautiful house with her father. But that was all in the past now. Lucy’s heart ached as she thought about him. She hadn’t seen her father since she was seven, when her life had imploded.

  It all happened ten years ago. Sometimes she couldn’t believe how much time had passed. Or how much she’d lost. It didn’t seem fair that her father’s problems had become hers. She knew he didn’t leave her by choice, but sometimes she wished she could’ve gone with him instead of being left with Alex.

  Alex! Lucy shook her head, pulling her focus back to the winding roads. Alex was the reason she was taking this trip down memory lane. If it weren’t for him and his family taking Lucy in after her father was arrested, she would have no one. And if she didn’t get to Alex’s game soon and with a really good excuse, having no one could become a very real possibility.

  Lucy rolled to a stop at an inconvenient stop sign. She looked both ways as she contemplated her uncertain future. If she was honest, she’d wanted to break up with Alex more than a few times over the past year. Especially after that humiliating video of him sucking face with Trista McAllister surfaced.

  Ever since Lucy had seen the video, she couldn’t get it out of her head. She couldn’t help wondering what else they’d done that wasn’t on film. The thought made her feel completely worthless. The fact that Alex had cheated on her with Trista hurt even worse. Lucy had always thought they were friends. More like frenemies.

  Trista was the most gorgeous girl at Saint Andrews Prep. She had blonde hair, blue eyes and a body that wouldn’t quit. The girl had the confidence to go with all her assets too. What Trista wanted, Trista got. Lucy had just never imagined it would be her boyfriend.

  Brooke had tried to warn Lucy that Trista was two-faced and jealous, and after what Trista did to Brooke freshman year, Lucy should have believed her. But Lucy couldn’t see what Trista could be jealous of. Certainly not Lucy’s pint-sized frame, non-existent curves or reddish-brown hair. No wonder Alex had been so eager to cheat. Trista was the proverbial golden girl, while Lucy felt like a mousy charity case.

  But, Lucy had foolishly overlooked all of those things, never thinking her friend and boyfriend would betray her. Yes, Trista didn’t have the best reputation when it came to kindness or loyalty, but Lucy was always the type of person to give second chances. But it had backfired—big time.

  Lucy couldn’t deny she’d noticed the hungry way Trista had looked at Alex over the years. But everyone looked at Alex like that. He had the ability to turn normal people into drooling cartoons with big pink hearts for eyes. It was beyond irritating, but it was just one more thing Lucy had to put up with.

  However, watching women drool over her man was one thing . . . but seeing them blatantly disrespect her by trying to give him a ho-jo on camera was completely different. And that’s where Lucy drew the line.

  She and Alex had gotten into an epic fight over the nearly pornographic make out video. Lucy had wanted to break up with him so badly, but the whole stupid thing happened over summer break. And since Lucy was forced to live at Alex’s house when they weren’t at boarding school, breaking up with him seemed like it wasn’t really an option. Not unless she wanted to be homeless and completely alone. That thought terrified her more than being in a crappy relationship. So she sucked up her pride and forgave him. She knew that reasoning made her spineless. But better spineless than abandoned, right?

  A car beeped behind Lucy then swerved around her jolting her out of her musings. Shit! How long had she been sitting at the stop sign? She needed to get her head straight. Lucy looked both ways again and shifted into first gear, letting her shiny red Jeep Wrangler glide out into the empty intersection. She was nearly through when a flash of silver in the corner of her vision caught her attention.

  Lucy turned with barely enough time to throw her hands up as a silver sedan barreled into the side of her Jeep. Her shriek filled the air and the last thing she saw was the sky, rolling toward where the ground should be.

  4

  Jaxon

  At first Jaxon thought he was having a very vivid flashback as he watched a silver sedan T-bone the red Jeep Wrangler at the intersection, but the piercing sound of metal on metal jolted him out of any delusions that this was a dream. Before he knew it, Jaxon was in motion, sprinting toward the collision where the Jeep had disappeared over the guardrail.

  The driver of the damaged silver car got out, leaving his door ajar. He stood at the gaping hole in the guardrail and Jaxon watched him thread his hands behind his head. He thought the man was going to be sick. Maybe he was injured or maybe he was reeling in disbelief at the wreck he’d caused.

  “Hey!” Jaxon yelled, trying to get the driver’s attention. “Hey! You okay?” But Jaxon must’ve been too far away for the man to hear. Or maybe the guy was in shock. Jaxon pumped his legs faster, yelling again when he got closer. “Buddy. You alright? Call 911.”

  Jaxon would’ve done it himself but his phone was strapped to his arm and he didn’t want to stop running to get it out. Plus, he knew the drill. The emergency dispatchers wanted to talk to the victims if possible.

  Jaxon kept yelling as he ran. Finally the driver turned in his direction. The guy looked startled when he noticed Jaxon rushing toward him, but he didn’t look injured. “Call 911, “ Jaxon yelled again.

  The man jumped back in his car, presumably going for his phone. It wasn’t until the driver’s door slammed shut and the brake lights flashed that Jaxon felt icy panic flood his veins.


  “Hey!” Jaxon bellowed. “Hey wait!”

  But the driver didn’t wait. He stomped on it, leaving Jaxon no choice but to stand there, helplessly watching the car peel away from the scene of the crime.

  Jaxon’s limbs locked up with horror. This wasn’t happening. Not again. Not today of all days. Jaxon yelled after the car, but it was too late. It was already disappearing around the bend. “Stop, you son of a bitch!”

  Jaxon knew he was wasting his breath but he couldn’t help it. He didn’t want to be here, alone. Not again. Not like this. Images of his car accident came slamming back to him. He couldn’t catch his breath. He doubled over, clutching his knees for support. For a brief moment all he heard was his mother’s cries for help and it pierced his heart like a fresh wound.

  He closed his eyes, but the screaming continued. Shit. Maybe he wasn’t imagining it. It was from someone in the Jeep.

  The thought sprang Jaxon back into action. He closed the distance between himself and the demolished guardrail. It sagged like warm taffy in the California sun. Jaxon’s heart hammered as he peered down at the wreckage. The red Jeep was about a hundred yards below him on a steep gravel incline. From the mangled state of the vehicle it was obvious it had flipped several times. That meant whoever was inside would be lucky to have survived. Jaxon strained to listen, but if someone had been crying for help earlier, they weren’t now.

  Without hesitation Jaxon hurled himself down the slope, skidding and sliding dangerously past the sparse vegetation that clung to the California hillside. He surveyed the damages as he made his way to the vehicle. The Jeep was contorted. It looked like a red coke can that someone had crushed. The frame was bent and the soft black canvas top was shredded, revealing the twisted roll bars beneath. At least they were still intact. They were probably the passengers’ only hope of survival after a tumble like this.