Beauty and the Book Boyfriend

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Beauty and the Book Boyfriend Page 3

by K. M. Galvin


  “What do you think?” I ask as he continues to stare at the screen.

  “It’s the last thing I expected you to pick,” he says honestly, handing the tablet back to me.

  “What did you expect, Caleb? That’d we’d go to a strip club and I’d snort coke off some chick’s ass?” I scoff.

  “We’re saving that for Vegas, but no cocaine. You’re antsy enough as it is. Also, what exactly is it you think I do for fun? Pretend to be a mobster?”

  I kick his foot. “Do you want to do this with me or not? We need to leave now if you do.”

  He grabs my wrist and yanks me into his lap. “I think it’s a great idea, Makyla.”

  “Ugh, gross, let me go. And do not call me that.” I shove off him, making him laugh again. “What is so goddamn funny all the time? I swear you have two switches with me: furiously glaring or laughing at me. It’s annoying as hell. Pick a temperature cause this hot and cold is making me sick.”

  “Oh, sick burn,” he mocks as he gets up and follows me to the door. “When you’re not being annoying and judgmental, you can be pretty funny. Or rather your intense dislike of me is funny. I’m not used to women turning me down so hard. Normally they’re too busy doing… other things.”

  “Get used to it. You’re not nearly half as charming as you think you are.”

  “I’m good-looking, though.”

  “Attention world, in case you forgot for one second, Caleb is attractive!” I yell into my hands before turning back to him. “I’m used to it, remember? You look like someone I created. I’ve spent a lot of time thinking of that face, I’m immune. Also your looks diminish exponentially every time you open your mouth,” I taunt as I order a car on my app.

  My phone is ripped out of my hands and my face is suddenly inches from Caleb’s.

  “Immune, huh? So if I kiss you right now… if I pin you against that wall and take your mouth, you wouldn’t be affected at all?” he whispers millimeters from my lips, his eyes locked on mine.

  Actually, I’m pretty sure I’ll melt into a puddle, but I go with it. “Maybe your manhood is threatened because not every girls’ panties hit the ground when you smile.”

  “Sweetie, I’m not even trying.” He unleashes a wicked grin and nuzzles my cheek.

  I inhale deeply, watching as his pupils dilate. His chest brushes mine with every breath. I’m fascinated by the appearance of color on his cheeks and the erotic swipe of his tongue across his bottom lip. It’s a headiness I didn’t know I possessed and all I’m doing is staring at him.

  I dip my head as if to kiss him and say, “Don’t call me sweetie. And if that was you trying, I’m sadly underwhelmed.” I smirk and move to grab my purse.

  Caleb releases a harsh breath behind me, clearing his throat. “Where the fuck did this little sex kitten come from?”

  “I asked myself, ‘What would Makyla do?’ and she would fuck with you. The car is here. Let’s go, Summer.” I bolt out the door before he can ask another question.

  “Blackbeard’s, please,” I tell the cabbie and settle in, staring out the window as we pass the gorgeous Georgian and Federal houses lining the streets of downtown Charleston.

  I sink into my seat further, thinking about my sudden change in behavior. It’s not the first time I’ve asked myself that.

  What would Makyla do?

  Makyla never hesitates. She always goes after what she wants. Makyla acts. She’s does everything that I wish I had done. She says ever word I wish I said. Not anymore. I’m going to do my best to act more like my fictional alter ego and become the girl I shoved so far into nothingness that she only existed on paper.

  “Are you having a crisis over there?” Caleb whispers in my ear, jolting me out of my pep talk.

  “Why?” I whisper back, my eyes flicking briefly to our driver.

  “Because you’ve torn your cuticles to hell and I know for a fact there are better ways to get a manicure than ripping the skin off yourself.”

  I glace down and wince at the skin, bright red and angry from my absentminded torture. It’s a nervous habit from my early years, one of the only outward signs of my anxiety.

  “Sorry,” I sigh in aggravation, sliding my hands in my pockets. “Maybe we should just go back.”

  Caleb laughs. “Wow. A whole ten minutes before you called it quits. Got to say, Bell, I had pegged you at least getting to the first bar.”

  I snort. “Whatever. Can you please stop calling me Bell and being all friendly?”

  “This is friendly to you? Jesus, you need better friends,” he jokes.

  “Well, you’re no longer snarling at me, Caleb, so I figure this is the best version of you.”

  “The best version of me is naked and sweaty from fucking my woman.”

  I choke on his boldness. “I’m shocked you take the time to get anyone but yourself off. I thought for sure you’d only be able to come by jerking off in front of a mirror.”

  “We’re here,” our driver interrupts, and I shove Caleb to get him to move.

  “Stop shoving me,” Caleb growls.

  “Then move faster.”

  “I’m going to spank you if you don’t behave,” he warns, giving me a hand out of the cab.

  “Please, the only thing you slap is the ham,” I scoff.

  “Is that another masturbation joke? I think you’re a little too preoccupied with how I get off,” he points out smugly, closing the car door after me.

  “You’re the one who keeps bringing up sex,” I tell him hotly as we walk into the bar, looking for the neon yellow shirt of our tour guide. I march away, thankful for the annoyance. It distracts me from the fact that I’m in a packed bar full of strangers I will be forced to interact with…

  Ok, well there went the distraction dammit.

  I walk up to our guide, a friendly looking older woman, her nametag announcing herself as Esme. “Hi, we’re here for the tour.”

  “Hi, honey! What’s your groups name?” Esme practically glows as she looks from me to Caleb.

  “Strong, party of 2,” I mumble, staring intently at the floor. I can feel myself shrinking inside. Why in the hell did I show up with a freaking male model? I might as well have worn a sign with “Stare at us!” written on it.

  “Wonderful! Oh, don’t you two make a handsome couple. We’re still waiting for a few people to show up. Please grab yourselves a drink. Here is a map of our route and your tickets for a drink at our stops. Hang onto these or you’ll be out of luck! Y’all go mingle now. Watch out for the ghosts!”

  I smile and concentrate very hard on not rolling my eyes. I’m hoping for a little more macabre on this tour, but our guide is Susie Sunshine. I need Morticia. This was your decision, I remind myself, and decide to make the most of it.

  “Come on, there’s a table over there,” Caleb says quietly, nodding to an empty table in the back of the bar away from everyone. I give him a sideways glance in thanks.

  He grabs my hand as we weaves through the crowd. It’s a strange crowd. College kids, fisherman, friendly locals, a few guys who were clearly in the Navy, and a group of ghost hunters… just your average bar crowd here in Charleston.

  I take a seat and set my bag on my lap, barely containing the need to grab my phone and stare intently at nothing just to look busy in order to deter conversation.

  “What do you want to drink?” Caleb murmurs quietly by my ear, drawing me from my thoughts.

  I rear back, almost falling out of my chair when I realize how close he is. “Shit!” I squeak, grabbing his shoulders before I can fall out of my chair.

  “Will you relax? And get that traumatized look off your face, people are going to start thinking I kidnapped you. What do you want to drink?”

  “Rum and ginger,” I tell him and mutter to myself as he stalks away, “Who the hell would kidnap someone and go on a ghost tour?”

  My phone vibrates in my purse and I grab it mercifully, hoping it’s Natalie with an update, but instead, it’s my mother.

/>   Ugh, Brad and Jenny Strong.

  Quarterback and Cheer Captain, high school sweethearts, both graduated top honors at their respective colleges and then came me. I’m supposed to be as put together as they are. Instead, the prom king and queen gave birth to the anti-social nerd.

  Don’t get me wrong; they love me. They just don’t know what to do with me. They couldn’t understand why I don’t want to play sports or participate in pageants. They didn’t understand why it wasn’t easy for me to make friends, or why my imaginary world interested me more than the real one.

  I don’t blame them or hate them; I’m not that angsty.

  Nope… I just go months without speaking to either of them other than the occasional text.

  Guilt weighs heavily on my shoulders as I watch the call go to voicemail. I should call them. I text her back that I’ll call her tomorrow and shove it back in my purse with a frown.

  “Hey, Downer, here’s your drink.” Caleb slides into the seat next to me and takes a long pull off his drink.

  I take a large sip of my own, savoring the spice of the ginger and the burn of the rum. Chase these thoughts away, little drink.

  “You’re a pretty pensive person, huh?” Caleb observes.

  “And you say whatever the hell pops in your head,” I counter.

  Caleb shrugs. “No one expects me to have any depth. When I keep everything at the surface, say whatever I’m thinking, people tend to receive it better. It’s coming from a dumb model, how much could it really matter?”

  “People don’t actually dismiss you that much, do they?”

  “We are both in the dark, Bellamy, however willingly. I’m constantly in the public eye, but no one cares to actually look at me, and you hide yourself so well no one would even notice you were there.”

  “You’ve had one swig of beer. Why are you being so frank and honest?” I mock, hating that he’s figuring me out so quickly. Surely I’m not that transparent.

  He stares at me thoughtfully. “My only friend, if you can actually call him that, is paid to hang out with me to make sure I don’t start shit. I don’t know-“ he pauses, slightly embarrassed, ”-you seem like you could use a friend too? I think it’s cool that you’re pushing yourself to put yourself out there. I don’t know, don’t analyze it so much.”

  “Aren’t you putting yourself out there too? Mr. Vogue slumming it on a book tour,” I say scathingly.

  “This wasn’t my choice.” He leans back in his chair.

  “Wasn’t mine, either. I was drunk. And I guess you’re right. Natalie, as much as I love her, she doesn’t understand what it’s like. She’s so friendly and personable. I’m so… not those things.”

  “I don’t think you dislike anyone, Bellamy. I just think you’re scared they’ll dislike you.”

  “Can we not talk about this? I just want to see some ghosts and try not to have a panic attack. That was the whole plan.”

  He holds his hands up and smiles. “I’m just saying. We’re pretty similar and if we join forces against the happy ones, maybe this trip won’t be so unbearable.”

  I point my drink straw at him. “You are a spoiled little prick who uses his looks like a weapon; I’m the complete opposite. But in terms of banding together, fine, but only because I don’t want to be forced into anything else I don’t want to do.”

  “So we have a deal? Team Leave Us Alone?” He holds his hand out for a high-five.

  “Team Leave Us Alone.” I slap his hand just as Suzie Sunshine Pants blows her whistle, startling everyone.

  “Grab you gear, my hunters! The dead wait for no one!”

  I shoot Caleb a “what the fuck?!” look and down my drink before getting out of my seat.

  “If we get murdered by Happy Pills, I’m finding you in the afterlife and killing you again for coming up with this idea,” he whispers.

  “Come on, Caleb. The dead wait for no one.” I slap his ass and dart out the door.

  A few hours later finds us walking arm and arm down the street towards the beach. Caleb stops abruptly and makes a shushing gesture at me.

  “What is it?” I whisper, looking around nervously. I try to see what he’s seeing and nearly topple over. Giggling madly, I yank his arm. “Come on-“

  “You’re really bad at shushing,” he tells me, chuckling as he drags me close. “I think I heard a ghost.”

  “Oh, please,” I mock.

  “Look!” he yells, pointing towards the sounds of crashing near the alleyway to our left. I scream and take off running, Caleb right behind me, stopping only when we get to the main road flooded with street lamps.

  “What was that?” Caleb grabs me and looks back from where we came. Just barely we could make out the shape of a cat, trotting across the street. I groan and start walking towards the ocean.

  “Idiot.” I shove him as he comes up beside me, heart still racing.

  “I swear! I heard a ghost! It was moaning and groaning,” he insists, wrapping his arm around my shoulders.

  “Are you sure it was a ghost, Caleb? I know you’re probably unfamiliar with the sounds of sexual pleasure-“

  “Ouch!” He laughs.

  “-but maybe it was just that.” I plop down on the sand and dig my toes into the edge where the waves try their best to crawl their way up the beach. “Sit down.” I yank his arm down until he settles down against me.

  “I had a good time tonight, Bellamy. This was fun.” He sighs, resting his head against my shoulder. “Good idea. What other ideas do you have rolling around in the creepy little writer brain?”

  “I have a few,” I admit, resting my head against his.

  “Oooh! A list. A to-do list. Let’s knock ‘em out! I can be your fun accountability partner.”

  I snort. “Only I would have an accountability partner for living life.”

  “Come on, what’s on this list?”

  “Promise not to laugh.”

  “Absolutely not,” he replies instantly, and I jerk my shoulder so his head goes flying. “Fine, fine! Now give me back your sharp, monster shoulder. I need to rest my head on it. So heavy,” he murmurs sleepily.

  “Do not fall asleep. I will leave you here,” I warn.

  He waves his hand. “Stop stalling.”

  “Ok fine. I want to go to a concert, a club, and a professional sports game. I don’t care which sport; I just want to see what the fuss is about. I also want to see a Viking funeral, cut my hair, and get a tattoo. Oh! And eat something strange and drink a rainbow…” I trail off, slightly out of breath. I’m naming anything that comes to mind. They’re all things I want to see and do, but never really thought much about it. When you construct a world in your mind, anything is possible. It’s reality that I’m not sure about.

  Caleb’s quiet for a long moment before. “That’s a wide range of easy to strangely specific.”

  “I just made them up. Except for the Viking funeral.”

  “Well duh. Who doesn’t have that on their list?” He laughs. “Am I allowed to add?”

  “Nope.”

  “Interpret it then,” he pushes, and I cave.

  “Fine, but nothing illegal.”

  “Of course not! Not for Bellamy Strong, my pure little friend. I’d never corrupt.”

  “Please, you can still corrupt legally.”

  “Very true.” He sighs, clearly pleased with the idea.

  I yawn loudly. “I’m tired. Can we go now?”

  “Yes.” He stands, pulling me with him. “You know, we’re friends for real now. It is decided.”

  “Why because I told you my road trip to do list?”

  “No,” he drawls, messing up my hair, “because we saw a ghost together and that shit bonds you.”

  “DO YOU NEED ANYTHING?” NATALIE asks me for the hundredth time as I sit at my booth ready to vomit all over my pre-signed novels, bookmarks, posters, and various swag.

  “A quick exit.”

  “You’ll be fine, Bell! This is so exciting!” Natalie squeals
next to me.

  “I’m going to puke everywhere,” I mumble, sweating profusely in my latex, leather, and forty pounds of makeup.

  “Where the hell is Caleb, by the way? He was supposed to be here five minutes ago,” she mutters, whipping her phone out and shooting another text off to Logan.

  As if on cue, the ballroom doors open and a chorus of screams come through as Caleb darts inside with Logan hot on his heels.

  My eyes widen, taking him in as Max. Wow. I mean… wow. I imagine one of those cartoon dogs, tongues rolling out of their mouths, eyes bugged out of their heads. I’m sure I did a fair impression.

  His black cargo pants fit him so well they look tailored made. They probably are. He has on a plain white crew neck t-shirt that molds his sculpted chest and a gun harness over his shoulders, sans guns of course. No vampires for Max to kill in the real world. His hair is gelled to perfection and makes my teased lion’s mane look ten times wilder.

  “Babe, your fans are fervent little psychos. I was almost mauled to death.” He laughs as he draws closer, but I hear the nervousness in it. I chew my thumbnail, suddenly terrified for him to see me in my outfit. Would he think I look as ridiculous as I feel? He’s around beautiful woman all day long…

  “Whoa! Stand up, let me see you.” He stalks over and grabs my hand, yanking me out of my chair. “Who knew when you were throwing super tampons at me, wearing a giant t-shirt and yoga pants, you were hiding all this under there. You’re hot, Bellamy.”

  “Oh my God, stop it,” I hiss, cheeks flaming in embarrassment. Honestly, I’m ridiculously pleased. I look closely at his flawless skin; it’s a little too perfect. “Are you wearing makeup, Caleb? Wait, did you contour?!”

  “Aw, look at your cute little cheeks. I can’t remember the last time I made a girl blush,” he teases ignoring my jab.

  “Probably because you’re surrounded by whores all day.”

  “There’s the bitchy and judgmental Bellamy I know.” He smirks and leans down close. “Relax. You look great; everything’s going to be fine. They already love you and we’re all here to help.”

  It’s exactly what I need to hear. My shoulders loosen immediately and I give him a nod of thanks as I resume my seat. “I’m sure they’re not all whores. Just the male models,” I concede. Caleb snorts and moves to stand behind me, chatting amicably with Logan.

 

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