Book Boyfriend Series Collector's Edition Boxed Set Page 4

  “You’re new around here, I’ve never seen you before. Are you going to be a freshman at St. Thomas?” he asked in a deep voice with a hint of a Southern drawl.

  “No . . . I mean yes . . . I mean . . .” I stammered, feeling my face flush as I continued to embarrass myself. Taking a deep breath, I tried again to answer his questions. “What I meant to say was yes I’m new around here, and yes I’m going to be a freshman, but not at St. Thomas. I’m a student at Rice. I’m just here with my roommate’s cousin, Jess.”

  “Do you have a name or should I just call you ‘Jess’s cousin’s roommate’ for the rest of the night?” he teased.

  “I’m Scarlett.” I smiled as I held my hand out toward him. I could feel Ash staring and a rush of confidence flooded through me, so I flirted back, “So do you have a name or should I just call you ‘guy who likes to flirt with all of the new girls’ for the rest of the night?”

  “Touché, Miss Scarlett. You’re not only beautiful but witty,” he said while still holding onto my hand. “I’m Dylan and it truly is a pleasure to meet you. Would you like to come with me outside for some fresh air?”

  His smile made my knees weak and my heart rate increase; I wanted to learn more about this Dylan—like what it would be like to kiss that perfect mouth and how his hands felt on my body. Just as I was about to agree, I felt someone walk up behind me and place their hand on my shoulder.

  “There you are Scarlett,” I heard Ash’s voice behind me. “I’m going to play here in a bit and I know you said you didn’t want to miss it, so don’t go far okay?”

  Knowing exactly what he was trying to do, I didn’t even turn around to respond. “You appear to have your hands full tonight, so instead I think I’ll grab some fresh air with Dylan, Enjoy playing.” And with that, I grabbed Dylan’s hand and marched out the back door.

  Once we found a secluded area on the porch to sit and talk, Dylan asked, “Do I even want to know what that was all about?”

  “I’m not really sure,” I admitted. “I met Ash over at their house right before we came here tonight. I don’t know, he just rubs me the wrong way and I think it pisses him off that I’m not falling all over myself trying to hook up with him.” Okay, so that was partially true.

  “You just met him tonight? And he’s acting like that?” he questioned.

  “Yeah, just a couple of hours ago or so . . . why? Should I be worried about something?”

  “No, nothing to be concerned with. It’s just not like Ash to get all territorial like that.” Dylan had a puzzled look on his face, almost as if he didn’t believe me.

  I shrugged my shoulders, brushing it off as if it was no big deal. “I would really rather not talk about him, and learn a little bit more about you.” He gave me that dazzling smile and all thins Ash were temporarily forgotten.

  Dylan and I spent the next hour or so talking and flirting with one another. We found we had quite a bit in common, we enjoyed similar music, we both loved watching old Saturday Night Live reruns, and we wanted to travel to many of the same places. He was an English major and wanted to go into editing, which of course with my love of all things books, interested me greatly. We had a wonderful time, Dylan was funny and he made me feel relaxed and comfortable.

  When we stood up to go back inside to refill our drinks, Dylan grabbed both of my hands in his and pulled me close to him. My chest was pressed against his and my entire body buzzed in anticipation. He released one hand and moved his finger under my chin, tilting my face up toward his. I looked into his desire-filled eyes and the butterflies in my stomach took flight. Leaning down oh-so-slowly, he lightly pressed his lips against mine, and then backed up as to gauge my reaction, never taking his eyes off my mouth. I then moved my free hand around to the back of his neck and pulled his face back down to mine and kissed him with much more force. I felt his tongue tease against my bottom lip and I eagerly opened up to better taste him. I wasn’t sure how long we stood there kissing, exploring each other’s mouths.

  “Ummm . . . I hate to interrupt, but I was going to see if you wanted to come inside for an acoustic session. Ash was going to play and I thought you might want to join us.” I turned to see Evie standing there with a grin spread from one ear to the other. “But if you’re busy, that’s cool.”

  “No, it’s fine. We were just coming inside anyways. I need a glass of water,” I said as I turned and walked toward her. The look on her face was priceless, she was beaming at me like a proud mom.

  “Have you met Dylan?” I asked, trying to not sound like an equally giddy school girl.

  “Yes, I think Jess introduced us earlier, but honestly, I’ve met so many people tonight the names are all starting to run together,” she replied. “It’s good to meet you again, Dylan. I’m Evie.” He smiled at her and shook her hand, “You too, Evie, very nice to meet you.”

  We all went back in the house, grabbing drinks as we moved into the living room where everyone had gathered. The couches and chairs overflowed with bodies and the floor was almost full as well. Jess called out for us to join her, she had saved us some room. We made our way over to her and Jacob, trying to not step on anyone as we climbed through the people, and took our seats on the floor. As I scanned the room, I found Ash sitting in a chair by the fireplace with a guitar in his lap. I made the mistake of bringing my eyes to his and he was staring at me again. I looked away quickly and wished away the uneasy sensation he stirred inside of me. I glanced over at Dylan hoping he hadn’t noticed Ash paying attention to me, but his eyes were locked on Ash. Abruptly, Dylan claimed he wasn’t comfortable with how he was sitting and repositioned us so that his back was supported against the couch and I was nestled in between his legs, my back pressed against his chest. He wrapped his arms around my stomach and softly kissed the top of my head. I looked over at Evie and Jess, both of their faces were full of questions. They were questions I didn’t know the answers to, so I just shrugged, smiled, and decided to make the best of it. My first night out was turning out to be quite interesting.

  “So Ash, what are you going to play for us tonight?” asked one of blondes in the most annoying voice known to mankind.

  “Yeah baby, what are you going to play?” asked the girl sitting on the other side of him. Nope, I was wrong. She had the most annoying voice ever . . . and she called him “baby.” I rolled my eyes—how pathetic.

  “Because we have some new faces here tonight,” he looked up in the direction Evie and I were sitting, “I thought we’d do a little variety, mix it up a bit.”

  For all of my life books, music, and dance had been my only outlets, my only escape from my parents, and they were the things I felt most passionate about. I loved to watch live music, to see the emotion and passion on someone’s fingers, on their lips . . . it was awe-inspiring to me. I couldn’t wait to hear Ash play and sing, but at the same time I was scared shitless of the feelings it would evoke in me. I had assumed he would be good. I was pretty sure he was good at just about everything he did; he was just one of those guys. However, nothing could have prepared me for how amazingly talented and incredibly sexy he was when he made music. It took every ounce of will in my body to not look at him while he performed. There was no doubt he was extraordinary; I looked around and everyone in that living room, both male and female, was completely mesmerized by Ash’s voice and the music coming from his fingers. I could hear the sex dripping from his voice, radiating from the strings of the guitar.

  At times I could feel him looking at me, like he was singing to me, but I refused to turn in his direction. I was pretty sure that Dylan sensed it as well because several times when I knew Ash was staring, he would tighten his arms around me and nuzzle his face in my neck, leaving behind soft sweet kisses that made me tremble with desire.

  “Alright, I’m going to do one last song and then turn the guitar over to anyone else who wants to play,” Ash announced. “Feel free to join me in singing this one.”

  I released a huge breath of air that I
had not even realized I was holding. One more song, I could get through one more song. Ash decided to close his set with “Let’s Get It On.” It was if he purposely picked that song to irk me or get under my skin. It felt like he was trying to make fun of me. Of course, everyone else in the room thought it was awesome, they screamed in approval as the opening line left his mouth and most of the room joined him in verse. I cringed and tried to block him out; I didn’t want to give him the pleasure of knowing how he affected me, but I couldn’t take it any longer. I didn’t want to make a scene and walk out of the room in the middle of the song, so instead I did the next best thing. I turned around in Dylan’s lap, straddled his legs, and kissed him . . . hard. And I didn’t break away from his mouth until the song was over.

  Ash received a standing ovation from the intimate crowd and I saw him take an exaggerated bow through my peripheral vision. He then invited anyone else who wanted to play to come up.

  “Do it, Sam. Come on,” Evie nudged me in the side.

  “You play?” Dylan asked. Without lifting my head from his neck, I shook my head no.

  “Oh yes she does, she’s just being modest. She’s really good.” Evie insisted.

  I really did NOT want to play. I was an emotional roller coaster from everything I was feeling about Ash and Dylan, a bit tipsy from the several drinks, and was already uncomfortable with the number of strangers in the room. However, with Evie, Dylan, and Jess’s prodding, soon our half of the room was chanting “Scarlett! Scarlett!” I had never been so embarrassed in my life.

  When Ash realized that they were calling for me to go up, he held out the guitar toward me, “By all means, Scarlett. Let’s see what you can do. I can’t wait to hear your rendition of Amazing Grace.” His voice was saturated in sarcasm. God he was an ass.

  Anger raged through me, partly due to his mocking of my innocence and his apparent doubt that I could play, but I was even more infuriated with myself for allowing him to repeatedly upset me. There was just something about him; in having known him for just a few hours, he had stirred feelings inside me that I didn’t know I had. And it scared me to death.

  Fueled by my fury and the alcohol intake, I snatched the acoustic out of his hands and took the chair he had just occupied. I was reeling in my brain about what to play, I wanted to respond to Ash’s not-so-cryptic musical messages with something just as witty. I decided just to sing songs about guys who were dicks, there were more than enough of those to choose from. They didn’t have to relate to Ash particularly, but enough man-hating that he’d get the point.

  “Hello everyone,” I began nervously. “I’m Scarlett, a friend of Jess’s. I’m new here in Houston, just moved in yesterday so I want to thank you for showing me such a good time tonight. I hope you enjoy.”

  I took a deep breath and began with a song I was certain most everyone would recognize, Pat Benatar’s “Heartbreaker.” I felt a little shaky at first, but I refused to let my fears get the best of me. By the middle of the first chorus, I felt much more comfortable and then I really let it go. Many of the girls in the room joined me in singing the parts they knew, well it was more like screaming, but I loved it nonetheless because I knew they were having fun with it. I debated internally on whether or not to look at Ash when I sang. On one hand, I wanted him to be clear that this was indeed an answer to his earlier performance and I also secretly hoped that I could make him feel just a fraction of the frustration that he bestowed upon me, both in my mind and body. However, the other part of me knew that if I locked my eyes with his, there was a good chance that I’d completely lose my train of thought and stop mid-song. I opted to play it safe and not throw any more fuel on the fire; he knew my song selection was no accident.

  I played a couple more songs that fit nicely in my guys-are-jerks-palooza before wrapping it up. “Again, thanks for the hospitality,” I said before I began to play my final song for the night, “You Oughta Know.” This was one of my favorite man-hater songs and I thought it was a perfect way to end. Even though I had never experienced the things written about in the song, the lyrics had always struck me as so raw, so real. I could feel the hurt . . . the anger . . . the bitterness caused by rejection and being replaced. It was my fear of all fears—putting myself out there for someone only to have them not want me in return. I guess that was true for most people, no one welcomed rejection.

  I pushed the psycho-self-analytic thoughts to the back of my head and focused on the song. The room was exceptionally quiet and all eyes were focused intently on me. I saw many faces light up as they recognized the song with the first few lines. There were several hoots and hollers when I seductively asked about giving blow jobs in cinemas; I was pretty sure Dylan was one of them. I had successfully kept myself from even glancing Ash’s way for the entire time I had sung and played; however, I couldn’t leave well enough alone. Midway through the second verse I looked over to where he was sitting and locked our eyes just in time to ask, “Are you thinking of me when you fuck her?” His eyes darkened and I could feel the heat from his desire across the room. Immediately I turned away from him so that I could finish the song and not melt into a puddle of shameless lust.

  Relieved I had made it through the impromptu session and exhausted from the previous forty eight hours, I told Evie I was ready to go back to the house. Jess and Ash decided to return home as well since it was a little past one o’clock. Saying goodbye to Dylan was a little awkward with Ash standing a few feet away. I wasn’t sure what had happened to Ash’s friends from earlier, I had honestly expected at least one, if not both of them, to follow him to his bed, but neither were anywhere around. Dylan and I exchanged cell numbers and he brushed several light kisses across my lips before I walked away.

  When we got back to the house, Meg was sitting on the couch in her pajamas eating directly from a tub of ice cream.

  “Good, y’all are back. I can go to sleep now,” she said as she stood up and went to put away the ice cream. She kissed all four of us on the cheek and said goodnight before she disappeared behind her bedroom door. I hadn’t even realized she wasn’t still at the party, I thought we had left her there.

  “When did she get home and does she always wait up for you?” Evie asked laughing.

  “Yeah, she’s got this motherly-protective thing over us. Despite the wild child image she portrays, Meg’s really not much of a partier. She’ll stop in say hi to everyone, but she would rather be hanging out at the house. She always has to know when we’ve made it to our final destination of the night if we don’t stay here. She’s a worrier,” Jess explained. “Now, let’s get some sleep. I’m tired.”

  “Come on, Sam. You definitely need some rest. We all do,” Evie said to me and I followed her into the room, doing my best to ignore Ash’s presence in the house.

  After the three of us had washed our faces, brushed our teeth and changed into night clothes, we all climbed into Jess’s king sized bed. Evie and Jess both fell asleep instantly, they never said a word once their heads hit the pillows. Even though I was physically and mentally drained, I could not fall asleep. I laid there staring at the ceiling for what seemed like hours, but a look at the clock told me it had only been thirty minutes. I could not get my brain to shut down. The evening’s events replayed over and over in my mind . . . Ash and Dylan and Ash and Dylan and Ash . . . it just wouldn’t stop. I decided a glass of milk, if they had any, might help so I quietly got out of the bed and tiptoed into the kitchen. I tried to be as discreet as possible so I wouldn’t disturb anyone, but as I leaned over to put the milk jug back in the refrigerator, a male voice startled me. Actually, it scared the absolute shit out of me.

  “Why does she call you Sam?”

  “What?!” I hissed as I flung my head around.

  Ash was standing in the entrance to the kitchen, his hair was still wet from the shower and his face was cleanly shaven. He was only wearing a pair of plaid pajama pants that hung sinfully low on his hips. I just about died. There was nothing I could
do but gawk at the near-perfect male specimen standing a mere three feet in front of me. I ran my eyes over the entirety of his body and admired the muscular definition in his shoulders, chest, and abs. If I had thought a dressed Ash was breathtaking, than a half-naked one was heart-stopping. Every angry and negative thought that had passed my mind earlier in the night disappeared instantly. The look he gave me was full of hunger. And I wanted to be eaten.

  “I asked why Evie calls you Sam,” he repeated. He then looked down to the drink in my hands and chuckled, “Do you always drink other people’s milk?”

  “When they’ve told me to make myself at home, I do,” I snapped at him. “And the other is a long story and not a very interesting one at that.” I walked closer to him as he was blocking my exit from the kitchen and cocked my head as if to ask him to move.

  “I don’t have anywhere to be anytime soon,” he said standing his ground in the walkway.

  I rolled my eyes at him and thought if I just ignored him I could escape the conversation. I was still pissed at him for being such a jerk at the party and I didn’t trust myself to spend time alone with him. The effects of the alcohol had long since worn off, but the sexual frustration that had been stirred up by both him and Dylan earlier in the night still pulsed throughout my body. I didn’t want to do anything I’d regret the next day, and I thought I had endured enough excitement for my first night out. However, when standing mere inches from him, waiting for him to move out of my way, I became keenly aware of how thin the material of my cami and boy shorts pj set was when I felt the heat from his body radiating on my skin. My pulse was racing once again and I was certain my hard nipples were visible through the cotton, but knew if I shifted my sight down to inspect the situation, his vision would follow. And I didn’t want that . . . right?