Book Boyfriend Series Collector's Edition Boxed Set

by Erin Noelle

  Ash pulled himself from under the pillow mountain, knocking them all to the ground in the process. Again he only wore a pair of cotton pajama pants and again my body came alive at the sight of his bare torso. The guy seriously could’ve been an underwear model, he was that hot. “You don’t have to stand all the way over there, Butterfly. Close the door so we don’t wake anyone up and come over here.” He patted the bed next to where he sat.

  His voice was low and tempting, and as hard as I tried to fight the seduction, I found myself wanting to do exactly as he said. However, I mustered up the little determination I had and snapped, “Don’t call me Butterfly.”

  He cocked his head to the side and frowned at me. “You didn’t tell me I couldn’t call you that last weekend.” His words almost sounded like a question more than a statement.

  “Well I had a brief spell of insanity, a moment of weakness if you will, and thought you might actually be a decent person, but tonight you confirmed my initial impression about you,” I said matter-of-factly. “You are an arrogant, self-absorbed asshole that doesn’t deserve the time of day from me. You are nothing but trouble, Ashton Walker.”

  Surprisingly, instead of getting defensive or trying to explain himself, he chose to agree with me. “You’re right. I am all those things,” he said softly. “And even worse.” Ash stared so intensely into my eyes, I wasn’t even sure he had blinked in minutes. Maybe he wasn’t human . . . but his skin wasn’t cold . . . hmmm. Again I had to push my vampire fantasies to the back of my thoughts. Damn you, Stephanie Meyer and your sexy ass vampires.

  He got off the bed and started walking toward me. I felt like I was in a National Geographic documentary on animal predators and their prey, and there was no doubt which one of us was the prey. Evie was going to shoot me. I tried to keep my body in control as he approached me, but my heart would not slow down and I was trembling from within. I was hot and cold at the same time as I anticipated the feel of his skin on mine. Ash closed the door behind me and then reached out with both of his hands and grabbed mine, sending goosebumps up my arms. I hoped he didn’t notice.

  “Scarlett, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I can’t tell you that enough,” he began. “I really don’t mean to be an ass to you, it’s just, I don’t know how to act around you. I’ve never met anyone like you before.”

  “What? You mean you’ve never met a virgin before? That’s ridiculous.” I scoffed at him.

  “No! Of course I have! That’s not what I meant,” he retorted. “Look, like I told you last time, I feel this strange connection to you. I’m captivated by you . . . I haven’t stopped thinking about you since you left. No matter how hard I try, every day I find myself wondering what you are doing, how your day was, if you’re happy . . .

  “And then tonight, you showed up at dinner and I wasn’t expecting to see you. I didn’t even know y’all were coming over and I just wasn’t prepared . . .” his voice faded off. “I don’t know how to act when I’m around you, Scarlett, and that really freaks me out.”

  “What do you mean ‘how to act around me?’ Just act like yourself. Why do you need to act any other way? And why do you need to be prepared to see me? And why did you even bother texting me last week after telling me that we didn’t need to have any sort of relationship, not even a friendly one? You are the most confusing person I know!” I tried to keep my voice down, but he was frustrating the shit out of me. I didn’t know whether to slap him or kiss him or both. Why did I allow him to get to me the way he did? I opted to do neither and let him continue to lure me deeper into his den of inevitable heartbreak.

  “I know I am, I know. If it makes you feel any better, I’m just as confused myself. That’s what I’m trying to tell you.” Ash paused. He pulled our hands, mine still clasped inside of his, up to his chest and gazed down at me with his hypnotic eyes. His voice was stern but not harsh. “I KNOW that I’m a cocky bastard that isn’t nearly good enough for you. I KNOW that you don’t need the bullshit that comes along with me in your life. I KNOW that as hard as I try to not hurt you, I will—somehow, someway . . . it’s just what I do. And because of that, I KNOW that I need to stay away from you.” He stopped momentarily and gave me a genuine smile, one that radiated in his eyes. He leaned his forehead down so that it was pressed against mine and continued in a much softer, heartfelt tone. “But after seeing you again tonight, I KNOW that it’s impossible for me keep my distance from you. I want you . . . no, I need you to be a part of my life. I know it sounds absurd, hell we hardly know anything about one another, but there’s just something about you that tells me I need to keep you close. ”

  I continued to look into his eyes, mesmerized by not only his voice but the sweet words that flowed from his lips. I didn’t say a word . . . I couldn’t. I was stunned silent. Ash then led us over to his bed and we climbed onto it, sitting crossed leg facing one another. He reclaimed my hands in his once we were settled and he continued talking.

  “I’ve been thinking about this all night,” he admitted. “And no matter how fascinating I find you, how much I would love to touch you and kiss you . . .” I inhaled sharply and my body stiffened as his words triggered thoughts of his hands and mouth exploring every part of my body.

  “I can’t,” he choked. My body slouched in disappointment and I exhaled louder than I expected. “Scarlett, you really do need to experience the normal life of a young adult. Nothing about that has changed. You need this period of transformation to learn about who you are, what you want. I told you that already. As much as I hate to even think about it, you need to date guys and party and act a little crazy.” Ash paused and looked as if he was trying to pull together the right words to express what he wanted to say next. “The attraction, the connection, I feel toward you is so strong, it scares me. I’m afraid if we were involved sexually, if I had a taste of that sweet innocence, I would completely consume you . . . and that wouldn’t be healthy for either of us. You need this time for yourself.

  “So the only other option is for us to try to be friends,” he concluded.

  I pulled back from him a bit and raised my eyebrows in disbelief. “Friends, huh? You really think we can just be friends?”

  “I know that it’s going to be hard . . . really hard if I have to hang around you wearing clothes like this.” Ash looked down at my gray and white striped camisole and grey boy shorts in an approving manner and a devilish grin spread across his face, setting my stomach butterflies fluttering wildly again. “But I’d rather learn to control my sexual desires around you than not have you in my life at all.”

  He gave me his best puppy dog eyes and asked, “So what do you say? Can we at least try this friends thing? I don’t know where it will lead . . . you may find out that I drive you absolutely insane and want nothing to do with me ever again,” he teased, lightening the conversation.

  “Okay,” I agreed. “We can try.” Even though I longed to be much more than Ash’s friend, I thought about what Evie had said in the car. “If there truly is some undeniable attraction between the two of you, then you guys will end up together with a magical, fairy-tale, happily-ever-after . . .” She was right, and I decided to let everything happen as it may. Ash and I were going to be friends . . . it should be a learning experience, if nothing else.

  “Thank you for giving this a shot. I hope I don’t fuck it up,” he said. “I really don’t have any female friends other than Jess and Meg. I’ve known Jess from grade school, she’s like my sister—no matter how much I piss her off, she can’t ever get rid of me. And then Meg, well, it wasn’t like there was any option what type of relationship we were going to have.” I chuckled at the thought of Ash trying to hit on Meg.

  “Well, you’ll be my first guy friend, so hopefully I don’t mess it up either.” I smiled up at him. I knew that I was playing with fire spending time with Ash, but I tried to convince myself that as long as I stayed on the outside, far enough away the flames, I wouldn’t get burned. As long as our relationship didn�
�t turn sexual, I couldn’t get too attached, therefore, I couldn’t get too hurt. Yeah right, who was I kidding?

  Ash and I spent the rest of the night, or early hours of the morning rather, sitting in his bed, talking and getting to know one another. Even though Dylan and I had shared a similar conversation about our pasts, present, and futures, it seemed so much more personal with Ash, perhaps it was the intimacy of looking in each other’s faces and seeing the emotion that accompanied each story or memory that made it feel that way. After we did a quick rundown of our families and our childhoods, we started talking about where we were going in life, our goals and ambitions. Of course since I had only claimed my self-independence a week and a half prior, I had no idea what I truly wanted or desired. The only thing I was sure of was that it wasn’t going to be pre-law. I was surprised to say the least to learn Ash was a Physics major and a Philosophy minor. First, he didn’t strike me the type to be interested in either Physics or Philosophy, I had assumed more something to do with music or art or history. Second, who the hell studies both physics and philosophy? To me, they seemed to be so different from one another; I couldn’t imagine a career that incorporated both fields of study. When I told Ash how weird I thought his choices were, he explained it as if it made perfect sense.

  “It’s the fact that they are so different, that makes it work for me—it’s like they balance me. Physics is the study of reality. It’s matter and motion and energy . . . and all of the natural laws that explain why the universe behaves the way it does. It’s all physical, no pun intended. Philosophy, on the other hand, is the study of belief and reason. It tries to understand and explain the meaning of why things happen. It’s all mental.

  “In Ancient Greece, to study one was to study the other, especially pre-Socrates. The men who combined these two disciplines were called physiologoi, or natural philosophers. Physics is the what and philosophy is the why, and it’s the combination of the two that fuel my love for astrophysics.”

  “Astrophysics?” I asked incredulously, wrinkling my nose. “Are you some kind of closet genius or something?”

  He threw his head back in laughter and shook it from side to side. He looked downright edible at that moment and I had to restrain myself from leaning toward him and licking his neck. Friends . . . I reminded myself. Ugghhh . . . I needed a session with B.O.B. as soon as we got home.

  “No, no genius here,” his playful voice broke me from my inappropriate daydream. “I’ve just always been obsessed with stars and planets and space in general. Where my sister lives in California, you can see thousands upon thousands of stars almost every night—it’s spectacular. I used to spend a month every summer with her and with not much to entertain me, I started reading books to learn everything I could about them. I seriously became infatuated with everything astronomy related.” Ash gave me a funny look and tilted his head slightly, but continued, “And now it’s what I hope to do for a career, but it’s a very tough field to get into. More than likely, if I’m lucky, I will get hired on as a research assistant for some project and just hope to learn as much as I can and move my way up.”

  “Why the funny look?” I questioned curiously.

  “I don’t know. I’ve never talked about my stars with anyone else before. I know most people could really give two shits about the ball of gasses that just seem to hang out in the night’s sky.” I loved the way he called them his stars, showing his passion and possessiveness.

  For the first time since I had met him, Ash had a look of vulnerability on his face. I could tell talking about this aspect of his life made him uncomfortable and I wondered why. Running through possible explanations in my head, my best guess was that his parents didn’t approve of his career choice.

  “I think it’s fascinating and anytime you want to ramble on to me about your celestial girlfriends, I would love to learn more about them.” I teased.

  “Okay, well don’t say I didn’t you warn you the next time I spend an hour explaining to you about how interesting plotting the movement of a meteor is okay?” His dimpled smile was warm and inviting, and again I had to refrain from touching or kissing him.

  I quickly changed the subject, hoping to deter my non-friendlike thoughts. “Why do you call me Butterfly even though you know I hate nicknames?”

  “Well, first, I could give two shits if you like my nickname for you or not.” He teased with a big goofy grin. But then Ash’s smile turned more heartfelt as his aquatic eyes looked sincerely into mine. “There could not be a better portrayal of you, Scarlett, than a butterfly. Butterflies symbolize various things across different cultures; however, the most common association is that of metamorphosis, or a time of transformation and change. You know better than anyone and like we’ve talked about, this is your time of metamorphosis. You are finally breaking free of that tight chrysalis that your parents had you so tightly wrapped in and are spreading your wings to fly. I know it sounds so cliché, but in your case, it could not be more true.

  “Other symbolic meanings for the butterfly include beauty, tenderness, appreciation, tranquility, and peace. All of these are words that describe you and the aura that surrounds you.” Was this guy for real? Friends, huh?

  “Wow, that was kind of deep,” was the first thing I could come up with to say. Then I pulled myself together from the semi-melted state his intoxicating voice had left me in and I continued, “I am very impressed by your expansive knowledge of butterfly symbolism. You have been one surprise after another tonight, Mr. Walker.”

  “Is that so, Miss MacGregor? I hope they have all been pleasant surprises.” He over exaggerated an eyebrow waggle and I hit him in his arm to stop, but my laughter just encouraged him more.

  “So what was that other name you called me last weekend?” I asked breaking up our game of making funny faces at each other. Ash gave me a questioning look as if he really didn’t know what I was referring to.

  “Psyche or something like that?” I offered hoping he would know what I was talking about and immediately, he broke our gaze and looked down at our hands, still clasped together between us. He was blushing and I loved it—for once I had either embarrassed him or at least made him uncomfortable.

  “I didn’t remember saying that out loud,” he confessed and then stood silently.

  “Sooo . . . are you going to tell me now? Or am I going to have to tickle it out of you?” I tried to joke in hopes it would relieve his uneasiness a bit.

  He took a deep breath and began. “I know this is going to sound unbelievable cheesy . . .”

  “Oh, come on . . . I’m a girl, I like cheesy,” I assured him.

  “Okay, the story of Eros and Psyche is a Greek myth that carried over to the Roman mythology as well, where it was told as Cupid and Psyche; some people claim it’s the world’s first fairy tale. It’s actually one of my favorite of all the myths. You should look it up and read it sometime, I think you would enjoy it. It’s a tale of undying eternal love and the many hurdles and obstacles that Eros and Psyche had to overcome to find their happily ever after.” He returned his eyes to mine and I was completely spellbound. He continued, “Psyche is the term the Greeks use for butterflies, but the name Psyche in Greek literally means soul. Thus the butterfly, based on this epic love story, is commonly used to depict the immortality of the human soul.

  “Psyche is often portrayed in drawings and sculptures as a beautiful human girl with butterfly wings. So obviously . . .” The crimson color darkened in his cheeks again, “when I first thought of how similar you are to a butterfly, both physically and emotionally, I envisioned you as Psyche.” His eyes dropped to his lap and a small embarrassed smile played on his full lips.

  Dumbfounded by the entire conversation, the only thing that came to my head to say was, “Well, obviously.”

  Ash lifted his eyes back to mine and the small embarrassed smile turned into a wide mischievous grin. “Are you making fun of me?”

  I shook my head no but as he quickly moved from his sitt
ing position on the bed up unto his knees, I knew I was in trouble. Seconds later, it was like a replay of the last time I was on Ash’s bed and I was pinned on my back as he tickled me relentlessly.

  “You know, either you are making fun of me or you’re lying about not doing it . . . either way, you’re in big trouble and need to be punished.” His words were playful and lighthearted, but when he said the word punished, my body stiffened as images of handcuffs and riding crops fluttered through my head. I really needed to have sex . . . soon. I tried to recover quickly, hoping he didn’t notice my reaction, but I wasn’t so lucky.

  He stopped tickling me and his voice softened, “I’m sorry if I said something that upset you.” I was still lying flat on my back and he still had both of my hands pinned above my head with one of his. His face hovered over mine and he looked into my eyes for answers. “Did your parents used to hit you?” His voice was soft and his eyes were filled with genuine concern.

  “What?” I looked at him as if he had grown a second head. Where in the world did that come from? “Uh, no. They’ve actually never hit me in my life, spanking or otherwise. Why did you ask me that?”

  “Well, when I said something about you being punished you froze like you were scared or something . . . I don’t know, I just thought since your parents are all controlling and shit . . .”

  Now it was my turn to be mortified. I wasn’t quite sure how to explain why I reacted that way, or if I even should. There he was concerned that I had been abused as a child while I was fantasizing about a hidden red room of pain.

  “Why are you blushing?” Ash asked, his face turned curious. “What is it?”

  “It’s nothing. Can we just drop it?” I pleaded. But of course he wouldn’t let it go. After continuous badgering, I finally admitted, “Look, when you said you would punish me, the image of you spanking me ran through my head and I . . .” I stopped talking when he released my hands and rolled away from me on the bed.