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The Practice Boyfriend (The Boyfriend Series Book 1)

Page 8

by Christina Benjamin


  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 signs. 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.

  Cody was wrong. He was worth saving. But what could she do? He wasn’t hers to save. Hannah trudged to her car and drove home in echoing silence, with only her melancholy thoughts to keep her company.

  24

  When Hannah arrived back home her dad was waiting and he didn’t look happy.

  “Were you driving a Range Rover when you left?”

  “Yes. It’s Cody’s.”

  “I don’t want you driving someone else’s vehicle, Hannah.”

  “He doesn’t have a license, Dad.”

  Hannah’s father looked perplexed. “Do I even want to know?”

  She hated lying to her father. It was their one rule. He was analytical and never really overreacted or got upset about things. He just wanted to be accurately informed.

  “Dad, do you remember hearing about Cody Matthews in the news?”

  He shook his head.

  “He got in that car accident . . . and his girlfriend died.”

  Her father’s eyes grew with recognition. “They were students at your school.”

  “Yes. Cody still is.”

  “Hannah, I don’t like this.”


  “Dad, it’s not a big deal. We’re working on a project together for school and I’ve offered to give him rides since he can’t drive. We took his car today, but I won’t do it again if you don’t want me to.”

  Her father cut his eyes suspiciously at her. “And what about, H?” he asked. “Is he part of this school project?”

  “H?”

  Her father picked up a white box that Hannah missed amongst the daily clutter of items waiting to be carried up the stairs. It was a Macbook Air, with red handwriting scrawled across the top of the box. Problem solved. Call me if you need anything else – H. A phone number was scribbled beneath the note along with a tiny heart.

  Hannah looked at her father’s suspicious glare and groaned. This was precisely why she’d asked Harrison NOT to send her a laptop.

  “Dad, I told him I didn’t need it.”

  “Who’s it from?”

  “Harrison Cohl.”

  That was a name he did know. Hannah’s father provided the Cohl’s security software for their computer. Well at least he used to, before they’d been elected to government positions. Losing their account had been a big hit to his business.

  “Is he mocking your computer?” he asked in astonishment. “Because I can tell you right now, it’s far superior to this toy!” he muttered waving the Macbook around.

  “No! Dad. I bumped into Harrison in the parking lot today and dropped my laptop. The screen smashed and he feels like it was his fault so he offered to get me a new one. I told him it wasn’t necessary,” Hannah replied trying to soothe her father’s uncharacteristic hostility. “He’s just trying to be nice.”

  “We don’t need his charity.”

  “I know, Dad. I’m going to call him and return it, okay?”

  Her father nodded and handed Hannah the slim white box. “Please do.”

  Hannah sighed as she watched her father disappear back into his study. Today was not her day. She trudged up the stairs with the Macbook, already typing Harrison’s number into her phone and shooting him a text.

  THANKS FOR THE LAPTOP.

  IT WAS VERY GENEROUS.

  BUT I CAN’T ACCEPT.

  Hannah paused before hitting send. She couldn’t piss Harrison off if she still hoped to get an invite to his party. She added to her text message.

  MY FATHER ALREADY REPLACED IT.

  DON’T WANT TO HURT HIS FEELINGS.

  BUT THANK YOU – HANNAH

  An immediate response came through.

  AT LEAST KEEP MY NUMBER ;-) – HARRISON

  Hannah blushed and texted back a smiley face.

  GLAD I BUMPED INTO YOU – HARRISON

  She laughed. Bumped? Well that was one way to look at it.

  LOL – HANNAH

  CALL IF YOU NEED ME – HARRISON

  OK – HANNAH.

  Hannah shook her head at the strangeness of her day. She’d finally gotten Harrison’s attention. It wasn’t how she’d planned it, but she could adjust. The important thing was he knew who she was and seemed to be flirting with her! Now that she had his number she could talk to him without his Golden army watching—judging. If she watched enough rom-coms she should be able to charm the pants off him. She had Harrison right where she wanted him. High school perfection was in sight!

  So why was it that she couldn’t stop thinking about Cody?

  She couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that he was hurting and she was probably the only one who knew, or cared. Hannah picked up her phone and tapped out a quick message. Yes, she knew Cody wasn’t her actual boyfriend, but he was still human and she refused to sit by and let him suffer silently. She knew too well what that felt like.

  JUST CHECKING IN – HANNAH

  After ten minutes of relentlessly checking her phone, Hannah, tapped out another text. She tried a different approach this time since Cody apparently preferred denial rather than dealing with his issues.

  DO YOU WANT TO COME TO MY TENNIS MATCH TOMORROW? – HANNAH

  Relief flooded her when she saw the text bubble pop up. Had she really thought he’d harm himself? Perhaps she was overreacting, but that was par for the course when suicide runs in your family.

  IS IT A BOYFRIEND DUTY? – CODY

  NO. IT’S A FRIEND DUTY – HANNAH

  WE’RE NOT FRIENDS – CODY

  His words stung, but she knew he’d meant them to. Hannah fleetingly thought Cody would be a worthy chess opponent. He had a tactical mind. But she wasn’t pushed away so easily.

  COME ON. DON’T BE A SHEEP – HANNAH

  She smirked at her clever retort, knowing he’d be proud she was quoting Cruel Intentions.

  I HAVE PLANS – CODY

  LIAR – HANNAH

  Hannah finally gave up when there was no response after an hour. She flopped into bed and turned the light off, determined not to let her boy trouble consume her dreams.

  25

  Now this was some karmic crap! Hannah rubbed her hands together to keep warm before trying the ignition again. Another cold front had rolled through over night and the app on her phone said it was currently 39 degrees! Her car hated the cold almost as much as she did. She said a silent prayer and turned the keys again only to be met with a weak clicking sound.

  “Great! Just great!”

  Hannah checked the time. Her dad would almost be in New York by now. He left at dawn to drive to a conference for the weekend. She hated to call him. He worried enough as it was, and after the drama with Cody and Harrison yesterday he’d been hesitant to leave her at all. Hannah grabbed her bag and ran inside to get out of the cold while she tried to solve her issue of finding a ride to her tennis match. She could call a cab, but it would be expensive. The match was almost an hour away. Hannah mentally calculated the fare there and back and frowned. Cody it was. She dialed his number—there wasn’t time for their text chess games this morning.

  Cody answered on the first ring. His voice low . . . short. She was surprised he was even awake this early.

  “Hannah?”

  “Hey.”

  “What do you want?”

  “Can you pretty please take me to tennis this morning? I—”

  Hannah’s words dropped off when she heard a female voice calling Cody’s name in the background. Cody’s muffled voice spoke away from the phone, assuring whoever was with him that he’d, ‘be right there.’

  “This isn’t a good time, Hannah. I told you I have plans.”

  Then he disconnected, leaving Hannah dazed and deflated.

  She took a deep breath and collected herself. She couldn’t be mad. Cody wasn’t her real boyfriend. He was allowed to see other girls. And to be fair he’d said he was busy today. Maybe he’d actually sought help last night in the form of a friend? Or more than a friend, Hannah thought recalling the sultry sound of the girl’s voice. Ugh, what did it matter? Hannah didn’t have time to worry about Cody and their messed up games. She needed to get to her tennis match.

  Her eyes settled on the white Macbook box on the foyer table. Perhaps fate was smiling on her after all.

  Hannah dialed another number while nervously chewing her lip.

  Harrison’s sleep husked voice answered after several rings. “-lo?”

  “Harrison? It’s Hannah. Stark.”

  “Hannah?”

  “Yes, I’m sorry to call so early, but you said if I ever needed anything . . . if that offer’s still good, I would really love to take you up on it right now.”

  Hannah had a strange sensation Harrison was smiling on the other end of the phone when she relayed her failed attempts to get to her tennis match. He agreed to drive her and said he’d be there in twenty minutes.

  Hannah heard tires on gravel and glanced at her watch. Harrison was prompt. She collected her tennis bags and rackets, grabbing the Macbook as she locked the house behind her. She nearly dropped her bags along with her jaw when she caught sight of the slick black limo in her driveway. The window lowered and Harrison grinned out at her.

  “Morn
ing!” he called raising a champagne flute and flashing a devious smile. “Ready, Ace?”

  The driver swiftly stowed Hannah’s bags and ushered her into the limo. The rich leather interior was warm and inviting, just like Harrison’s smile. Hannah’s skin tingled with nervous excitement. She’d never been in a limo before. And with the door shut and partition raised she felt a bit like a caged animal—a lion and a lamb.

  Harrison slid closer to Hannah and offered her a champagne flute. “May I serve you?”

  “Thank you, but I can’t drink before a match.”

  “It’s only orange juice.”

  Hannah raised her eyebrow suspiciously.

  “Oh, mine’s a mimosa. But don’t worry, I brought another bottle for later so we can celebrate your certain victory.”

  Hannah took the orange juice and sniffed the glass tentatively, while Harrison studied her.

  “My, my, aren’t we distrustful. But I guess that’s to be expected when you spend so much time with Cody Matthews. You probably have to police his drinking habit, don’t you?” Harrison leaned in. “Don’t worry. I’m nothing like him. I can handle my liquor and if not,” he winked, “I have a driver.”

  He clinked glasses with Hannah and downed his mimosa.

  “What do you see in him anyway?” Harrison asked refilling his glass.

  “I don’t really want to discuss Cody right now.”

  “That’s right, he stood you up.” Harrison gave another wolfish grin. “Well, his folly is my fortune.”

  Hannah nearly snorted. “I have a feeling he won’t be happy I got a ride from you.”

  “You don’t need his permission to talk to me, Hannah. We’re just friends, aren’t we?” Harrison asked, taking her hand. But the way he caressed it and the sinister twinkle in his eye told her Harrison wore a mask just like Cody did. But warning bells went off in Hannah’s head when Harrison touched her, telling her his mask hid things far darker than Cody’s.

 

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