The Boyfriend Series Box Set (Books 1-6): YA Contemporary Romance Novels

by Christina Benjamin

  Camille rolled her eyes at him.

  “What? Too soon?”

  “Come on Romeo, I’m gonna be late for work.”

  Nate

  Nate held his skateboard in one hand and Camille’s hand in the other, swinging it playfully as he walked her to Sweet Thang’s. Her moodiness from school seemed to evaporate, which gave him hope for tonight.

  After the disastrous butterfly locker fiasco, Nate texted Ronnie to tell him to tone down the plans for this evening. Nate hadn’t been lying when he told Camille he had a date planned for tonight. And with Ronnie’s help and a little luck, he might be able to pull it off.

  When they breezed into Sweet Thang’s, the shop was buzzing with customers. Nate gave Cami a quick kiss on the cheek and told her he’d stop by later. He rode his board around back to the narrow alley the storefronts used as a loading bay. Ronnie had outdone himself. Good thing Nate had said tone it down. He couldn’t imagine what it would’ve looked like otherwise.

  Currently, one of Ronnie’s hot pink bistro sets from the restaurant was set up under a few cords of white lights. There were white candles and a simple gold vase of white roses on the table, which was covered with white linen. The place settings were gold and glittering, and a white faux fur rug rested beneath it all. A mirrored dressing screen stood in the corner, draped with fairy lights for ambiance. In front of it was an old-fashioned steamer trunk, holding a basket of blankets and an old wind-up record player. Nate walked over to it and saw the album he’d asked Ronnie to find was queued up and ready to play. Perfection. The scene was simple, elegant and hidden away—not at all attention seeking.

  Ronnie peeked his head out the back door. “Whatcha think?”

  “It’s perfect, Ronnie. Thank you.”

  “Not at all,” Ronnie said waving him off.

  “I’ve gotta run and pick up a few more things.”

  “Okay, bebe. Just text me when you’re ready and I’ll send our girl your way.”

  Nate listened to the rhythm of his skateboard wheels thumping over the pavement as he made his way down the busy streets of the French Quarter. He couldn’t wipe the smile from his face and he knew he had Camille to thank for it. Nate was usually a happy guy, but since losing Ty, Nate’s smile took more effort than it used to. Camille had remedied that.

  Nate knew it was crazy. He’d only known Camille a short time, but already he was falling for her—and hard. He wondered what Ty would’ve said about it. He’d definitely be teasing Nate for crushing so hard, especially on a girl that was pushing him away. But Nate knew if he told his brother the truth, that this was it, Cami was the one—and Nate was convinced that she was—Ty would pat him on the back and give him one of those rare genuine smiles, free of his usual mischief. He’d probably say something encouraging like, “Go get your girl, little brother.”

  The thought made Nate grin. He hopped off his board and kicked it up into his hands. He nodded up to the sky, letting happiness expand in his chest. “I’m working on it, bro. I’m working on it.”

  Nate walked into UAL and a sales girl greeted him. “Can I help you find anything?”

  “Actually, yes.” Nate pulled a Polaroid from his pocket and handed it to her. “Got anything like this?”

  She smiled. “Let’s see what we can do.”

  Nate left the store with a box tucked tight under his arm. He couldn’t wait to give it to Camille. He was already picturing the look in her brilliant gray-blue eyes. Every time he looked into her eyes he saw a little bit more of her. And each glimpse helped him find a piece of himself again and keep hold of it. It was like she was helping him rebuild himself—slowly collecting the pieces of Nate that had shattered apart when Tyler died.

  But Nate was finding as he put the pieces back together, the picture he was building wasn’t just of himself anymore. He was collecting little puzzle pieces of Cami, too. Secret gems she tried to keep hidden. But they fit with his pieces seamlessly. Camille was entwined in Nate’s life now in an irreversible way, and it gave him hope.

  Nate checked the time. He had one more stop to make before heading back to Sweet Thang’s.

  Cami

  “Baby cakes, can you take the trash out back for me?” Ronnie called from the kitchen.

  “Sure.” Camille took off her apron and started gathering the trash bags.

  “Thanks, sugar. I’d do it myself, but I can’t leave the glaze when it’s at this fragile stage.”

  “I don’t mind,” Camille replied. “Besides, it’s sorta what you pay me for.”

  “Yeah, but I don’t like making you do the heavy lifting ‘round here.”

  “Luckily, your food’s so good there’s never much in the trash but napkins anyway.”

  “Camille LaRue, are you dishin’ out compliments today?” Ronnie teased.

  “Yeah. I guess I am.”

  “Well maybe you should try some on that boy a yours.”

  She rolled her eyes. “He’s not my boy.”

  “He could be. You clearly like him.”

  “Stay out of it, Ronnie.”

  Ronnie put his hands up in surrender. “What do I know? I’m just a clairvoyant genius, who’s never wrong ‘bout matters of the heart!”

  Camille stuck her tongue out at Ronnie as she backed out the door leading to the alley. But the strange brightness and music that greeted her made her turn around. She’d spun so quickly she almost missed the satisfied smirk on Ronnie’s face as the backdoor to Sweet Thang’s closed with a heavy thud, then a lock.

  Nate was standing next to a bistro set, under rows of glittering white lights strung across the alley. He was wearing a bowtie and royal blue blazer with black velvet lapels, and his brightest smile yet.

  “Nate? What is all this?”

  “It’s a non-attention grabbing, non-date.”

  “In an alley?”

  “Yes! It’s the exact opposite of the center of attention.”

  “But like nine other businesses use this alley. We can’t just—”

  He waved her argument away. “Ronnie took care of it. And he helped me make your favorite dinner. Okay, he did most of it, but he let me put the bacon on the sliders.”

  Nate guided Camille over to the table, and pulled the chair out for her, placing a napkin in her lap before taking his own seat. He unveiled the silver domed platter before her, which revealed sliders à la Ronnie, which basically meant extra cheese and chocolate glazed bacon. It was Camille’s favorite meal in the world.

  “Nate . . . I can’t believe you did all this.”

  He waved her off. “Ah, it was nothing.”

  “No, I mean it. This is . . . really nice. Thank you.”

  His face lit up, rivaling the candles on the table. Camille fought back tears as she studied the beautiful date Nate had set up for her. She still couldn’t quite believe it. No one had ever done anything like this for her before. And the fact that Nate brushed it off made her want to cry, because she suddenly realized how abnormal it was that she’d never been on a real date, or had anyone make her dinner other than her parents or hospital chefs.

  Camille took a bite of her dinner to try to hide her emotions.

  “You look really pretty tonight,” Nate said.

  She stared at him as if he were from another planet. Her pink and blonde wig was in a messy braid and she had at least one pen tucked behind her ear. She was wearing stretchy black jeans with holes in the knees and a worn-soft oversized gray t-shirt. She felt anything but pretty. Yet somehow, the way Nate looked at her made Cami believe she truly was—at least in his eyes.

  And that subtle realization turned their non-date into something real.

  “Thanks, Nate. You too.”

  He laughed, tugging at the lapels of his jacket. “I feel pretty.”

  Camille rolled her eyes, but smiled, happy to be back to their casual teasing. “You know what I mean.”

  “I got you something,” Nate said, passing her a large box tied with a bow.

  �
��What’s this?”

  Nate wiggled his eyebrows excitedly. “Open it and find out.”

  Camille carefully undid the bow and lifted off the lid. She dug through the layers of tissue paper until her hands wrapped around soft black leather. She pulled out the most stunning pair of black combat boots she’d ever seen.”

  “Oh my God, Nate! These are for me?”

  “I felt bad about ruining your other pair in the Mississippi.”

  Camille stared at the boots. They were studded with shiny black gems from ankle to shin and the inside was lined with a pretty black and pink rose pattern. Plus, they had that buttery new leather smell. She hugged them tight to her chest.

  “You like?”

  “I love!” she exclaimed.

  “Put ‘em on,” Nate insisted.

  Camille pulled out the stuffing, kicked off her faded gray Converse and slipped the boots on. They hugged her feet like warm slippers and she wanted to sigh.

  “They’re perfect, Nate. Thank you so much.” Camille stood up to give him a hug.

  Nate wrapped her in his arms and she drank in his smell—sunshine and possibilities.

  “How did you know my other ones were ruined?”

  Nate loosened his hug, but didn’t let her go entirely. “I noticed you hadn’t worn them since we went swimming and then I saw them on your windowsill the other day. They looked a little rough.”

  Camille laughed. “Yeah, apparently my boots aren’t a big fan of the Mississippi.”

  Nate pulled a Polaroid from his pocket and handed it to Camille. “I sorta borrowed this from your room to show the sales girl,” he said handing a photo of her booted feet back to her.

  “Sneaky. But how’d you get the size?”

  Nate smirked, rolling up his jacket sleeve to reveal two marks on his forearm. “Traced it on my arm. You have surprisingly large feet for such a tiny girl.”

  “Hey! Don’t you know you’re not supposed to insult your date?”

  “Wait? Did you just admit this was a date? Never mind. Don’t answer that,” Nate said quickly tugging her onto the mock dance floor, outlined in colorful sidewalk chalk.

  “What are you doing?” she asked as he twirled her into his arms, swaying to the soft music coming from an old record player she was just now noticing.

  “The shoes fit, but the true test is if you can dance in them,” Nate replied, smiling at her.

  He spun her again, and this time when he pulled her back, his hands found her waist. She could feel his warmth everywhere through the thin material of her t-shirt. Being so close to him made her feel like she was floating. She wasn’t quite sure what to do with her hands, which currently had a death grip on the lapels of his jacket.

  Nate seemed to sense her nerves. He drew her hands to rest on the back of his neck, one at a time and pulled her closer. “You’re a good dancer.”

  She laughed. “And you’re a bad liar.”

  “Just relax. Dancing doesn’t require a plan, Cami. Just follow the music.”

  She let Nate lead her in a slow circle, but her heart was pounding so hard she could barely hear the music. There was something familiar about the song, but being in Nate’s arms was intoxicating, and Camille found it difficult to concentrate on anything but breathing.

  “I think this should be our song,” Nate murmured against her ear.

  His voice sent shivers down her spine and Camille strained to calm her nerves enough to listen to the song. Recognition hit her with the ferocity of a freight train. Nate was playing ‘As Time Goes By’. She would know that song anywhere. It was from her favorite movie.

  She gazed up at him, emotion tight in her throat. “You watched Casablanca?”

  He nodded. “You were right, that movie’s great.”

  Her heart skipped. She wanted desperately to say, you’re great. But she was afraid she might cry or worse, kiss him. Instead she leaned her head against Nate’s chest and danced until the song was over.

  They danced until the record skipped. Nate stopped it and blew out the candles on the table before taking Camille’s hand again and pulling her down the alley.

  “Wait. Where are we going?”

  Nate grinned. “Our date’s not over yet.”

  “But I’m not done working.”

  “Yes you are!” Ronnie called.

  Camille and Nate looked up to where Ronnie and Hector were waving from their apartment window above Sweet Thang’s.

  “Ronnie! Who’s in the shop if you’re up there?”

  “Quit worryin’ so much, baby cakes. I gotcha covered.”

  “But—”

  “No buts, Camille. I’ve been runnin’ this shop since before ya were born. Now go out and be young for once, child.”

  19

  Nate

  “Just follow the GPS,” Nate said for the tenth time.

  “I am, but this would be easier if you told me where we’re going,” Camille argued.

  “I told you, it’s a surprise.”

  After Camille gave up arguing with Ronnie, Nate walked her home so they could get her car for the next portion of their non-date, which was starting to feel pretty much like a real date. Nate couldn’t help noticing that Camille was the one who reached for his hand on the walk home. She also wore her new boots, smiling every time she looked down at them.

  Now all Nate had to do was get Camille to Burgundy Street.

  “Okay, park here,” he said pointing to a street side spot on Marigny Street.

  Camille gave him side-eye but parked without argument. Nate was beginning to understand that surprises could be added to the list of things Cami wasn’t a fan of. But he didn’t care. This would be worth it. He was determined to get to know more about her. And this was the perfect opportunity.

  “Now what?” Camille asked once she turned off the car.

  “Follow me.”

  Cami

  Camille rounded the corner onto Burgundy, her hand securely in Nate’s warm one. And when she saw where he was taking her, she was grateful he was holding onto her, because shock nearly buckled her knees.

  “What is this place?” she asked in awe.

  “It’s NOLA’s very own Before I Die wall. I looked it up on Facebook after I saw the one in your room. And I figured since you didn’t want to write all over the perfect one in your room, we could work on this one together.”

  “I had no idea this was here.”

  Nate winked and pulled a pack of colored chalk from his back pocket as he led Camille toward the wall. It was massive, stretching the entire length of the old concrete building. Someone had painted it black and stenciled BEFORE I DIE . . . in bold white letters. Under the heading, thousands of statements and drawings layered and overlapped each other in colorful waves of chaos.

  Camille read them as she walked up. Hike a mountain. Go back to school. Buy mom a house. Make a difference. Want to live. Go to Scotland. See the world. Have sex everywhere. Apologize. Go to the moon. Forgive myself. Save all the cats. Conquer my fears. Stop war. I want to be seen. Spread love. Find myself. Save a life.

  The words flooded in. So many of them were thoughts Camille had herself. She looked over at Nate, he was already scribbling something on the wall.

  Show Cami something new.

  Camille walked over and stole his piece of red chalk, drawing a box next to what he’d written, and then adding a checkmark to it.

  Nate grinned, pulling out a new piece of blue chalk. This time he wrote, Teach Cami that she doesn’t always need a plan.

  She smirked, repeating her box and checkmark.

  Nate pressed his blue chalk back to the walk and scribbled, Learn something no one knows about Camille LaRue.

  Camille scrunched up her face, thinking of something clever to write. But when she looked at Nate and his gorgeous smile, all she could think about was how much she wanted to kiss him. The night he planned had been perfect, and it made her heart ache. Somehow, while she wasn’t paying attention, she’d let this boy in an
d he made her want everything she couldn’t have—and she’d never felt more terrified of anything in her life.

  Camille walked up to the wall, but she couldn’t bring herself to write an answer to Nate’s question. As usual, he sensed her apprehension and lightened the mood.

  “That was a broad question. How ‘bout something more specific. If you could go anywhere in the world, where would it be?”

  “I dunno . . . I guess I’ve never really thought about it.”

  “Come on! Play along. We’re being held at gunpoint and a magic portal appears. It can take you anywhere in the world. Where does it go?”

  “Um . . . maybe—”

  “We’re being held at gunpoint, Cami! Five, Four, Three, Two.”

  “Okay, okay! Paris! My portal goes to Paris!”

  Nate’s smile threatened to swallow the night sky. He nodded to the wall. “Write it down.”

  Camille wrote Paris on the wall and liberation spread through her like warm honey. They spent the next twenty minutes laughing and writing all manner of ridiculous goals, wishes and dreams on the wall. Camille doubled over in laughter when Nate wrote he wanted to star in Rocky Horror Picture Show. She followed that up with wanting to be a mermaid for a day, which Nate said was hot. But at some point, their goals turned real, and Nate wrote, Before I die . . . I want to fall in love.

  Camille approached the wall and wrote directly under Nate’s statement. Before I die . . . I want to stop being afraid.

  Nate stood so close to Camille that their elbows touched. “What are you afraid of?” he whispered.

  Camille brought her hand back to the wall and added, of my heart, to her previous statement.

  Nate moved closer, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “Me too.” His voice sent goose bumps racing across her skin. “Tell me something you’re afraid of, Cami.”

  She shook her head. “It’s your turn.”

  “Okay.” Nate faced the walk and scribbled furiously. When he finally backed away, Camille read what he’d written.

  Before I die . . . I want to kiss the girl of my dreams. Her name is Camille LaRue.