Metamorphosis (Book Boyfriend Series 1)

by Erin Noelle

  Our conversations were easy and comfortable, never forced or awkward. We talked a lot about our childhoods and families. I learned that he was born and raised in Chicago and that he was the oldest of three kids. He had a sister four years younger than him and a brother two years behind her. All of his immediate family still lived in the Chicago area, even though his parents were divorced.

  He had come to Houston because of the scholarships he had been offered by the University of St. Thomas, and he had an older cousin who lived here and allowed him to live virtually rent free. He also said he’d been ready for milder winters; as the oldest male in the family, especially after his dad left, he was always the one in his house in charge of shoveling snow or de-icing doors and windows. With each revelation about himself, Dylan became more and more attractive. He seemed to be someone who truly valued his family, and he most definitely had a successful future ahead of him with his work ethic and drive.

  I told him the little there was to tell about the events of my life leading up to college—ballet, music, soccer, and school. That about summed it up; I always knew I wouldn’t be a good character to base a book about unless it was one of those children’s book that had one word on each page describing the action depicted above it. In that case, I would have a four-page book—awesome. Maybe it could be lengthened to six pages if we added sleeping and eating—even more awesome. I was honest with him about my lack of experience, socially and sexually, but downplayed my parents’ controlling, irrational method of child-rearing. I just left it at “They are different” and “We aren’t really close,” which proved to be more accurate than I ever imagined.

  By Saturday morning, I was more than concerned that my parents had not attempted to contact me one time since I left their house after our big fight—not a call, a text, an email… nothing. I toyed back and forth with the idea of contacting them, but I wasn’t quite sure if they were still that mad at me or if they were disappointed in me or what exactly their problem was. It pissed me off actually. For eighteen years, they controlled nearly everything I did or said, and when I stood up for myself to them just one time, they let it all go? Let me go?

  They didn’t even care enough to make sure I had arrived safely. Were they happy I was finally gone, so they were free of my burden? That’s exactly how I felt many times over the years, like a burden had been placed upon them to raise the most perfect child ever. When I didn’t win first place at a music competition, or when I graduated salutatorian instead of valedictorian, or any other time I didn’t excel in something immediately, they made me feel as if I failed them on their mission. Well, screw a bunch of that. I was tired of carrying their burden of being sucky-ass parents to my older brother, Matt, by letting him run around with no supervision whatsoever. Truth be told, they were sucky-ass parents with me too; they had just jumped from one end of the spectrum to the other. I decided calling them would only upset me in some way, and for now, it was probably best if I waited for them to reach out to me.

  I decided I needed a little retail therapy to help me get out of my funk over my parents; not to mention my clothing options were still limited with what I had bought the previous weekend. Evie had a headache and wanted to take a nap before we went out that evening, but she let me take her car to the mall. Shopping by myself was a new concept for me; my mom or Evie had always accompanied me before. I felt a little lonely not having someone with me, and I missed Evie’s honest assessment of clothes I tried on, but I knew one thing I really needed to work on was learning how to make choices for myself, no matter how big or small. Choosing clothes I wanted to wear seemed like a harmless place to practice my decision-making skills. A few hours later, I headed back to the apartment with several bags in hand and a pleased smile on my face, feeling confident I had excelled at my self-assigned task.

  Evie was in the shower when I got back to our place, so I decided to make us a quick snack before getting ready. Once I heard the water turn off, I called out to her, “Hey, Evie, I’m back! Didn’t want to scare you!”

  “Hey, Sam! Did you find anything good?” she yelled back.

  Instead of continuing the conversation through the walls, I walked into her room. “Yeah, I found a few things. I can’t wait to show you. I hope you approve,” I said. “It was no fun without you there though. How’s your head anyway?” I asked, concerned.

  “I feel better. I don’t know what happened. I just had this awful pain behind my right eye and then this nagging headache developed. Maybe I spent too much time looking at my computer screen last night and this morning, but who knows? The aspirin and nap took care of it, and I am as good as new now.” She smiled a bit hesitantly.

  “Okay, if you’re sure. We don’t have to go tonight if you aren’t feeling up to it,” I offered.

  “Don’t be silly, Scarlett. I’m fine. It was a headache and it’s gone. Now drop it,” Evie warned and turned to her closet. “What are you wearing tonight?” she asked, changing the subject.

  I knew the conversation was over, but there was still something that didn’t feel right. Evie had experienced several headaches in the last few months, which was odd for her. She never was one to feel bad or get sick. Her parents had been concerned as well, but much like she just did to me, she assured them it wasn’t anything serious and would resume being her usual cheerful self. I promised myself to insist she see a doctor if it happened again.

  “I bought a new dress today that I want you to see. What about you?”

  “I’m not sure yet.” Evie continued to sort through her options hanging in the closet. “But you better get moving. We need to leave here in like an hour!”

  “An hour? Why so soon?” I was confused. I looked at the clock and confirmed it was only 6:30. Last Saturday, we didn’t leave until close to 9:00.

  “Didn’t I tell you last night? Jess wants to go grab dinner at this new restaurant beforehand. We’re supposed to meet them around eight.” She walked out of her closet still in just her bra and panties and holding two different sundresses. “Which one? The pink-and-yellow one with a low-cut neckline that whispers ‘Please fuck me,’ or the red-and-black striped one with a shorter skirt that screams ‘Fuck me now!’”

  “Let’s go with the whispers and the please for tonight. We are still on preppy college boy duty, right? I sure hope so, since I’m meeting Dylan there. Plus, we don’t want your inner dominatrix scaring them away.” I snorted. “We’ll save the other for the night we’re hunting deviant, misunderstood rocker boys.”

  “Then we need to do that soon,” she retorted with a playful frown. “Because I look hot in this dress.” She held the red-and-black one up across her body while staring at her image in the mirror. “Hmm… I guess you’re right. It may be a bit much for tonight.” And she threw it back into the closet.

  Moments later, I jumped in my own shower to soap, shampoo, and shave. After I carefully applied my makeup and styled my hair in two long braids, I nodded in approval at my image in the mirror. Moving to my closet, I chose a white eyelet matching bra and thong set. I knew I was a long way from being ready for Dylan to see me in my panties, but just knowing what I had on under my clothes made me feel sexier and more confident. My dress was a gauzy white sundress with a sweetheart neckline and a hem that fell midthigh. Again, I wore my boots and accessorized with a long turquoise necklace that hung low on my chest. A few minutes and one last look in the mirror later, we were headed out the door.

  Eight

  We weren’t in the car five minutes when Evie approached the subject I knew she had been anxious to discuss all day, the conversation I had dreaded.

  “So, what are you going to do about Ash tonight?” she asked with a little too much sweetness in her voice.

  “What do you mean exactly?” I asked, playing dumb with the same over-the-top sugary tone. She glared at me, warning me that she was serious. I sighed loudly and slumped my shoulders forward.

  “Oh, Evie, I don’t know,” I confessed. “I’m just going to ac
t like nothing happened, I guess. What else am I supposed to do?”

  “How do you feel about him? You know, now that you’ve had a week to process everything that happened and have been talking to Dylan more and more.”

  “Confused. I feel completely confused about the whole thing. I mean, like I told you before, there is this intense attraction I feel toward Ash. It’s not just physical. It’s… more. I just don’t know how to describe it. But obviously, it’s not just me that he has that effect on. Girls throw themselves at him all the time, and from the way Jess talks, it’s always been that way. I’m just one of many gullible girls who easily fell victim to his charm. I’m not silly enough to think I’m anything special to him, despite what he says.”

  Neither of us said anything for a few moments. I wasn’t sure if I was trying to convince Evie or myself that it really wasn’t a big deal to me… that he wasn’t a big deal to me. There really was no reason he should be. I had literally spent less than twenty-four hours with the guy, I hardly knew anything about him, and the things I did know were like flashing neon signs telling me to stay away. But not a day had passed during the week that he didn’t creep into my thoughts at some point. I saw those incredible greenish-blue eyes staring into me, I heard his voice whispering in my ear, and felt his breath on the back of my neck. It almost seemed the harder I tried to stop thinking about him, the more I did. I was still curious about the reason for the text but doubted I would mention it to him unless he brought it up.

  “I think you should just have fun, Scarlett,” Evie said, interrupting yet another daydream I was having about Ash. “If there truly is some undeniable attraction between the two of you, then y’all will end up together with a magical, fairy tale happily-ever-after. But you know as well as I do that it takes a bunch of other bullshit in between to get to that point—a bunch of unnecessary angst, some preventable misunderstandings, and you both need to make some ill-advised and senseless decisions. So right now, I think you should just let everything happen and stop overthinking all of it. I know that’s easier said than done.” She stopped and gave me a heartening smile. “You know I just want what’s best for you, Sam. And right now, Ash is right in that you need to experience a lot more of what life has to offer. Plus, who else is going to help me sample all the book boyfriends?”

  I smiled back at her, so incredibly thankful I had such an amazing friend. She always knew the right thing to say to me to both comfort me and lead me in the right direction. “You’re right, Evie. I’m going to try my best to just take that night for what it was, which, when I think about it now, really wasn’t much of anything.” I thought about what I just said and hoped I would be strong enough to resist Ashton Walker.

  I changed the subject to improve the mood before our night out began. “Speaking of our book boyfriends and the contest, you are participating in the competition tonight, aren’t you? I don’t like pity wins.”

  “Absolutely. Last week was just a warm-up round… just letting you get your feet a little wet.”

  “My feet weren’t the only thing getting wet,” I joked in a mock-sultry voice. “No, seriously,” I continued. “So tonight, we are doing preppy college boy again, since I kind of don’t have a choice with Dylan being there and all, but what’s next and when?”

  “Hmmm… I haven’t thought about it really. I’ll start working on it though.” Evie looked downright giddy thinking about our next adventure, and we hadn’t even started on tonight’s.

  We sat in comfortable silence until we got to the restaurant. I was in such a good mood and was suddenly really looking forward to the night ahead. After finally finding a parking place in what seemed to be the next zip code, we hoofed it across the parking lot to the front doors. People were loitering outside, some sitting on benches while others were smoking cigarettes. I hoped the wait for a table wouldn’t be too long; the place looked packed and I was starving.

  Right before we walked inside, Evie realized she had forgotten her phone in her car on the charger. I turned around to go with her to retrieve it, but she stopped me and told me to go ahead inside and let Jess know we were there. I wasn’t completely comfortable with the idea of her walking alone at night to her car, but she pointed out to me the numerous lights dispersed across the well-lit lot, the security driving around in a golf cart, and the mace container she held in her hand. Without another good reason for her not to go, I entered the restaurant on a hunt to find Jess in the sea of bodies.

  It didn’t take long for me to find the back of Meg’s platinum-blonde pixie cut across the waiting area, standing at the bar. I could only assume Jess’s short self was standing next to her. I slithered through the people, trying not to step on anyone or accidentally hit someone’s arm that was holding a drink, to make my way to them. As I got closer, I noticed that standing in between Meg and Jess was none other than Ash. There was no mistaking him, even from the back.

  Oh shit. It appeared my will was going to be tested earlier than I thought. One foot in front of the other, I could do this.

  When I got just a few feet behind them, I overheard Ash ask Jess, “Five? Who else is joining us?” I froze. I really didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I just couldn’t help myself. I wanted to know what his reaction and response was going to be when Jess told him we were the ones meeting them there.

  “Evie and Scarlett. Why? Is that okay?” Jess asked, looking up at Ash. He didn’t reply at first, or at least not that I heard, but he must’ve made a disapproving face, because Jess raised her voice at him. “What’s the problem, Ash? You told me nothing happened between you and Scarlett last weekend. You said y’all just stayed up late talking and passed out, because she was having a hard time sleeping. I warned you to stay away from her, Ash, goddammit. I didn’t want anything like this to happen. I knew they were going to be hanging out with us a lot… and she’s so good. Ash, she really doesn’t need to deal with your shit.”

  “Nothing happened! I told you nothing happened. It’s the truth,” he argued. “Look, Scarlett is a very sweet and pretty girl, but that’s what she is… a girl. You know I don’t mess around with virgins. I learned my lesson the hard way with that shit. Either they are never going to let me fuck them—which I respect their decision and all, but that doesn’t work for me—or they decide I’m the lucky bastard they give their most virtuous gift to and expect me to fall in love with them and spend forever together, which really doesn’t work for me. So whichever category Scarlett, or any other vestal maiden who may come along, falls into, it’s never going to work for me.”

  “Not to mention, she’s so not his type,” Meg chimed in. “She’s not blonde and her tits aren’t big enough. But for me on the other hand…”

  I could not believe the conversation I was listening to. The three of them were talking about me and my virginity like they were discussing what they were going to eat for dinner, no big deal. I didn’t have much time to analyze the multitude of emotions that had converged together to form a huge knot in the back of my throat and a matching one deep in my abdomen, because Evie walked up next to me, grabbed my hand, and forced me to follow her to where the trio stood. I’m sure she thought I was just too nervous to approach Ash.

  “Hey, guys, I hope you haven’t been waiting long,” Evie greeted the group. All three of them turned around to face us with a somewhat guilty look on their faces. Or maybe I just thought I saw that, since I knew what they had been discussing and I thought they should’ve felt guilty.

  “No, we haven’t been here too long,” Jess replied hastily. “The hostess said it would be about twenty minutes when we checked in, and that was probably ten or fifteen minutes ago.”

  “Cool,” Evie replied.

  I didn’t say a word. I couldn’t. Ash’s eyes had locked with mine and I could tell he was concerned I overheard their conversation. I could feel the tears welling up behind my eyes, but I would be damned if I gave him the pleasure of making me cry. I successfully willed them away and tore from his stare. D
etermined to act as if nothing was wrong, I said hello to each of them and asked how they were doing. Thankfully, the hostess walked over to us at that moment to let us know our table was ready.

  Dinner itself was painfully pleasant. Jess and Evie carried the conversation throughout, the other three of us piping up every once in a while to add our two cents. I paid quite a bit of attention to the chips and salsa on the table and then to my main course once it arrived. I felt Ash staring at me a few times, but I did not dare look his way. His and Meg’s words were playing on an endless loop in my head.

  She is a girl…

  It’s never going to work for me…

  She’s so not his type…

  She is a girl…

  I sat in my chair, exploding with emotions—embarrassment, rejection, and flat-out anger being the three at the top of my list, in no particular order. However, in the end, anger won out and I couldn’t wait to get to the party to be in Dylan’s arms to show him just how much of a girl I was.

  Nine

  The scene at Jacob and Nicholas’s was much the same as the week before except with double the number of people. I recognized quite a few as we made our way from the front door to the kitchen. Several of them even stopped to ask if I’d be playing the guitar again, to which I replied an honest “I’m not sure.”

  I found Dylan in the kitchen. He was drinking a beer, leaning against the island, looking hotter than I remembered. He had gotten his hair cut—or buzzed, I should say. Normally, I wouldn’t think I’d like a guy with hair that short, but somehow it made Dylan even more attractive. He was dressed similar to the last time I saw him—a pale-blue polo, cargo shorts, and deck shoes. All-American boy indeed.