“Starbucks?”
“What did you think I meant?”
Remembering one of Cody’s earlier lessons, Hannah kept her comments to herself. He probably didn’t want to hear that she’d assumed he meant drugs or something illegal when he mentioned a pick-me-up.
They stood in line listening to obnoxious coffee orders being slung at the barista like some foreign language.
“What would you like?” Cody asked as they approached the counter.
Hannah stared at the board in wonder. What language was this? Some of the words were in Italian, some English and frankly some just seemed made up.
“Um, I don’t know. I don’t drink coffee.” Hannah admitted sheepishly.
“What? Hannah, are you Mormon or something? Because I draw the line at destroying your religious faith.”
“No. I’m not Mormon. But it’s good to know you have some morals.”
“Are you sure? No coffee, no sex, no fun. . .”
Hanna rolled her eyes and elbowed Cody in the side, which only made him laugh.
“How does Miss Perfect stay up late and study without coffee?”
Hannah scoffed at his dig. “I don’t need coffee. It’s a drug you know?”
Cody smirked. “Well it’s one drug you’re gonna have to get used to if you want to mingle with the Goldens outside of school. Spotting them without their Starbucks and cell phones glued to their hands is like spotting Bigfoot.”
“Fine. Can you just order me something mild?”
Cody laughed. “And here I thought you wanted to be wild.”
When it was their turn to order, he asked for two vanilla lattes. The barista looked grateful for the simple order and quickly served them. They retreated to a high-top in the corner of the coffee shop and sipped their lattes.
“So what’d ya think?” Cody asked gesturing to the coffee mug.
“It’s delicious. I can see how people get addicted to these.”
“I knew you’d be a latte girl.”
“Is that a good thing, or are you making fun of me again?”
“It’s not really a thing. It’s just you. You’re so vanilla latte.”
“You mean mild and boring.”
“You said it.”
“You’re right. I am boring. But that’s why I have to do this. I have the rest of my life to be boring vanilla-latte-Hannah. Harrison’s party is my only chance to be wild-and-free-Hannah.”
“What, Brown’s not known for its wild party scene?”
“How do you know I’m going to Brown?”
“Everyone knows you’re going to Brown, Hannah. The school posted it on the bulletin board freshman year,” Cody teased. “It’s been up there so long it’s turning yellow.”
“Oh.”
“Don’t worry, you’ll have your wild and crazy night. We just need to get you some new clothes, create some more buzz about you dating a bad boy and you’ll be Golden.”
“Ha ha, very funny.”
“Look at you! Already picking up on my sarcasm. Perhaps there’s hope for you yet.” Cody grinned and stood up. “Come on let’s take these to go.”
He led Hannah to the counter to get to go cups when a swirl of pink cashmere and glossy blonde hair cut them off— Savannah Huxley.
“I ordered an iced, half caff, ristretto, venti, four-pumps, sugar-free, cinnamon-dolce, soy, skinny, latte, no whip. This is clearly not sugar-free!”
“Was that even English?” Hannah whispered to Cody, who laughed.
Hearing their laughter, Savannah whirled around about to direct her wrath at them. But her mouth hung open when her eyes took in Cody, and then Hannah.
“Oh my god, Cody and . . . Hannah, right?”
Hannah nodded.
“I didn’t know you two were an item.”
“That’s because you weren’t supposed to,” Cody replied taking Hannah’s hand and dragging her quickly from the coffee shop.
“What did you do that for?” Hannah howled when they’d escaped Savannah’s glare. “That was my chance to talk to her.”
“Lesson number two. Always leave them wanting more.”
11
Hannah’s day had gotten stranger after the coffee shop. She somehow stepped into a strange subculture that she didn’t know existed. One where torture was disguised as pampering, shopping the sales was taboo and being spotted with an empty glass of champagne in hand turned clerks into track stars, racing to fill your glass.
Cody had been able to politely decline—with his reputation and all—but Hannah gave in after Cody’s taunts about being wild and free.
At least she could check underage drinking off her list, she thought while sipping the delightful bubbles. She was convinced it was the only reason she survived her first—and hopefully last—eyebrow wax. The mani-pedi was almost enjoyable, but Hannah ran from the spa when they explained what a Brazilian wax was.
She currently sat motionless at the makeup counter while two artists perfected her flaws. Hannah found it funny that she’d never noticed her flaws before, but after Roderick and Hector pointed them out and quickly caked the right makeup or lotion over them, she wondered how she’d ever survived without them.
“Voila! You’re perfection, darling!” Roderick exclaimed after an hour of primping.
Hannah was stunned when she saw her refection. She looked just like Bianca—polished and plastic. “Thank you,” she said in awe raising her hand to touch her flawless skin.
Hector slapped her hand away. “No touching!”
“You like?” Roderick asked Cody, who was busy texting.
He looked up for a moment. “Yes, very much.”
“What account will we be putting the products on today?” Hector asked.
“Matthews,” Cody replied.
“Splendid.”
Roderick handed Hannah a gigantic shopping bag full of cosmetics, creams, spritzes and strange looking applicators. How was she ever going to replicate their masterpiece on her own? She kept her concern to herself and thanked them, letting Cody lead her away.
“Come on, doll face, your new wardrobe awaits,” he declared steering her through the brightly lit aisles to a doorway labeled ‘fitting rooms’.
“Must you call me doll face?”
“Do you prefer Miss Perfect? Or maybe sweet cakes, snookums—”
Hannah huffed. “Never mind. Doll face is fine!”
“Great, then on to the fitting rooms, doll face.”
Cody’s grin was infectious but Hannah was exhausted. It was already 7 pm. She was normally in bed by 8 or 9 at the latest and she still hadn’t eaten dinner.
“Do we have to?” she groaned.
“Yes! How are you not loving this? It’s your Pretty Woman moment. I thought that was every girl’s fantasy?”
“I was already a pretty woman, thank you very much!”
“No! Pretty Woman . . . the movie.”
Hannah stared at him blankly.
“Julia Roberts and Richard Gere?”
She just blinked in confusion.
“You’re kidding me! You’ve never seen Pretty Woman?”
“I’m not really into movies. Unless it’s a historical documentary. They fascinate me.”
Cody shook his head in amazement.
“What?”
“You’re the strangest girl I’ve ever met.”
“So all girls like this Pretty Woman movie?” Hannah asked.
“Yeah, it’s about a prostitute that gets hired by a lonely rich guy who buys her all these expensive things and they fall in love.”
“So the rich guy has to buy the love of the prostitute? That sounds terrible!”
Cody laughed. “Well when you say it that way . . . you just have to see it. I’m adding movie night to your research. Starting with Pretty Woman. And then there’s some teen movies you should watch to learn how to talk like a normal human. It’ll help you spot when guys are being creeps and girls are being fake too.”
Hannah’s face li
t up. “That’s a brilliant idea.” She pulled her phone from her purse and opened her notes app, ready to write down movie titles. “Pretty Woman. What else?”
“Calm down, Spielberg. Just come over this weekend and we’ll have a Netflix marathon, cause you’re gonna need my commentary.”
She nodded and slipped the phone back into her purse.
“Now get in there an try on some clothes,” Cody commanded, nodding to the row of white doors.
“But we didn’t pick any out yet?”
“What’d you think I was doing the whole time you were getting pampered?”
“Playing on your phone?”
“I was texting Bianca. She filled the fitting room with everything you’ll need.”
“What happened to doing our own shopping?”
“I didn’t want to hurt her feelings,” he said with an apologetic smirk. “Now quit stalling and try on your clothes. And you better show me everything. I’m not letting any boring khakis or frumpy sweaters slip by.”
“Cody, it’s not that I don’t appreciate all of this Pretty Woman pampering.” Hannah lowered her voice to a whisper. “But I can’t afford to buy my clothes here.”
“It’s on me.”
“But—”
“Lesson number three. Never decline your boyfriend’s gifts. Besides, you’re helping me.”
“How?”
“My dad feels less guilty for never being around when he buys me things. He’ll sleep easier when he sees his Neiman Marcus bill this month. Now no more arguing. Get in there.” He slapped Hannah’s ass and she yelped, but made her way into the fitting room.
The entire room was white—walls, doors, mirrors, floors. It was blinding. It was the largest fitting room Hannah had ever seen. A white wing-backed chair with an ottoman judged her from the corner. Next to it was a silver doorbell labeled ‘assistance’. Hannah glanced at the long rack filled with the clothes Bianca had picked out. This was going to take all night!
Hannah suddenly felt the need to sit down. Luckily a huge white tufted-bench with silver legs had been provided. It was over six feet long! How many people were they expecting in the fitting room at once?
Hannah looked up and shook her head at the ornate chandelier sparkling above her. She was so out of her league.
She took a deep breath and fanned through the clothing, settling on what she was most comfortable with first—a pair of dark jeans, white linen shirt and a camel-colored blazer. The skinny jeans were skintight and bending her knees was a struggle, but the rich fabric of the buttery blazer and the finely tailored shirt made up for her discomfort. Hannah gazed at her reflection in awe. She looked like a million bucks. In one afternoon she’d gone from high school nerd to the beautiful, confident career woman she longed to be.
She slid her feet into a gorgeous pair of herringbone Tory Burch flats and had to restrain herself from skipping back to the posh white waiting area, where Cody was waiting. When he gazed up from his phone he frowned. Not what Hannah was expecting.
“Ugh.” Cody gave a thumbs down.
“What’s wrong with this?”
“The clothes are perfect, it’s the way you’re wearing them.”
Cody was on his feet, pulling the hem of Hannah’s blouse from her jeans and unbuttoning it to her breastbone. When his hand grazed her chest, she slapped him.
“Don’t get me wrong, l like the whole feisty thing, but it might sell the whole boyfriend thing better if you could refrain from slapping me every time I touch you,” he whispered.
“I’m sorry. It’s just my instinct. I’m not used to having people touch me. I’m not sure I see the appeal.”
“Seriously?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never had a boyfriend, remember? I just need to practice more.”
Cody sighed and dragged Hannah back to the fitting room.
“What are you doing?”
“Practicing.”
12
“You’re not supposed to be in here.”
“Says who?” Cody asked, looking around the massive white room and locking the door behind him.
They were completely alone. Hannah gazed at the ‘assistance’ button and fought her urge to push it repeatedly as Cody moved closer to her. He popped the collar of her shirt and blazer, tying a blue and gold Chanel scarf around her throat. He ran his hands down her body, unbuttoning the untucked bottom of her blouse.
Hannah’s pulse pounded in her ears as Cody’s hands continued their path down her legs. He slipped off her flats and held a pair of classic red pumps up. She slipped her feet in and he stood up to examine her.
He scratched his chin. “Better,” he said placing his hands on her hips to spin her toward the mirror. “And you haven’t slapped me once.”
Hannah was grateful for the makeup staining her cheeks. It helped hide the massive blush heating her body from Cody’s touch. He was right. She needed a lot more practice. And she could suddenly see the appeal of having his hands all over her.
“Memorize this outfit. You’re wearing it to school tomorrow.”
“I can’t. We have uniforms.”
“Wear your skirt instead of jeans, and your vest under the blazer.”
Hannah swallowed and nodded, nervous at the thought of not following the Stanton dress code to the letter. But Cody was right. That’s how the Goldens dressed—mixing and matching parts of their uniforms with posh statement pieces that probably cost a fortune.
“Next,” he said handing her a dress before lounging in the wing-backed chair.
“You want me to change in front of you?”
Cody sighed deeply. “Hannah, you’re the one who wanted to practice. You need to be comfortable with yourself and your body. If you can’t get undressed in front of your boyfriend how are you going to be able to handle yourself at Harrison’s party?”
“Right. I forgot about that bit,” she said biting her lip nervously. “Are you sure there’s going to be naked people there?”
“There’s always naked people at his parties.”
“Oh . . .”
“Lesson number four. Any good high school party is about three things. Getting drunk, getting naked or getting high.”
Cody took one look at Hannah’s petrified doe eyes and almost called the whole stupid thing off. The poor girl had no idea what she was getting herself into. Harrison and the rest of the Goldens would eat her alive. And for what? To prove a point? Hannah didn’t need to prove anything to anyone. Especially the Goldens. She was too good for them anyway. Too good for me too, Cody reminded himself. But before he could say anything she was undressing.
His throat dried up completely as he watched her shrug off the thin white shirt.
Shit! She was hot. He’d gotten a glimpse that morning, but that body! Tennis was good to her. Cody was having trouble remembering why he was still sitting in the chair instead of tearing her bra off. That was until Hannah tried to peel off her skinny jeans and fell over, nearly taking the whole rack of clothes with her.
Cody rushed to help her. “You okay?”
“Sure. What’s a little more embarrassment for today?”
He laughed. “Don’t worry. I’m pretty sure it’s impossible to look sexy while taking off skinny jeans.”
“Let’s make that a rule. Don’t take skinny jeans off in front of others.”
“How about this? Rule number five. Let your boyfriend take off your jeans,” he winked tugging her feet free from the stretchy denim that was strangling her ankles. Taking her hands he pulled her to her feet.
“Thanks,” she smiled and then seemed to realize she was standing in front of him in nothing but her bra and underwear. She squealed and grabbed a dress from the rack, trying to cover herself up.”
“Hannah, stop. You have nothing to be embarrassed about. You’re beautiful,” Cody said softly, finding he meant every word. She was stunning, smart, sexy, funny . . . He was suddenly having a hard time keeping his hands off of her. He didn’t want to be practice.
Get your head out of the gutter, Cody mentally scolded himself. She is way out of your league.
He mentally checked himself and took a step forward, and tugged the dress, but Hannah held tight.
“Hannah, you don’t need to cover up who you are. Lesson number six. If you can face your fears in your underwear you can conquer the world.”
She scoffed. “Easy for someone completely clothed to say.”
Cody arched an eyebrow and shrugged off his green army jacket. He peeled off his black v-neck t-shirt and kicked off his shoes. He was starting to unbuckle his belt when Hannah loosed a breath loudly.
“Fine! You proved you’re not shy . . . you’re conquering the world or whatever!”
“Your turn,” Cody ordered.
Hannah balked, fear chilling her flushed skin. Cody moved toward her, slowly tugging the dress from her hands. She stood before him in her white bra and panties. They were plain as could be, but he didn’t give a shit. All he could think about was the perfection that was hiding beneath them. Hannah was visibly shaking as Cody took another step closer, pressing his chest into hers. Hannah’s breath caught in her throat, her bright blue eyes widening.
Practice! Hannah reminded herself. Don’t freak out. This is just practice.
But she couldn’t help it. She was freaking out. Her body refused to listen to her mind. All she could see was the gold flecks in Cody’s light brown eyes smoldering through his dark lashes. Her heart pounded against his chest, her body shaking as she watched his delicious lips move toward hers. She closed her eyes, willing herself not to be so nervous.
Hannah nearly jumped out of her skin when Cody’s breath tickled her ear—hot and close. “Hannah, I promise I won’t ever hurt you.”
She trembled.
“Look at me.”
Her eyes flew open and she stared at his handsome face. Something changed. He didn’t look smug or sarcastic. He looked . . . kind . . . sincere. He was a different person all together. One that she was suddenly drawn toward.
Cody’s voice was firm. “You’re in charge here, okay?”
The Practice Boyfriend (The Boyfriend Series Book 1) Page 4
