The Practice Boyfriend (The Boyfriend Series Book 1)

by Christina Benjamin

  “Friday, May 12th. Calculus exam. 1:30 pm. Hannah . . .”

  “Cody?” Hannah’s voice drifted to his ears. He could feel her softly kneeling next to him. “What’s wrong?”

  “Please leave,” Cody ground out through his clenched jaw.

  “No. Tell me what to do.”

  “Hannah . . .” he begged. “Please, leave me alone.”

  He heard the car unlock and Hannah put her shoulder under his arm dragging him to his feet.

  “Come on. Let’s go,” she urged.

  “Where?”

  “Anywhere you want.”

  He balled his hands into fists and tried to get his limbs to respond. He finally got in the car with Hannah’s help. She raced around to the driver’s side and buckled him in.

  “Tell me where to go,” she begged.

  “I don’t know,” he growled.

  “Pick somewhere that makes you happy and I’ll drive you there, okay?”

  Cody took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

  “Cody!” Hannah yelled. “Open your eyes and give me directions.”

  His eyes flew open and he looked at the road. Hannah was already out of the school parking lot. “Hidden Hallow Drive.”

  “I don’t know where that is. Right or left?”

  “Right,” Cody answered.

  Hannah turned right. Her hand reached for Cody’s and squeezed. “Now what?”

  “Left on Powell Road. Two miles ahead.”

  She squeezed warmth back into his fingers and whispered, “I’m with you.”

  19

  They were sitting on the grass, their backs resting against the grill of the Range Rover staring out over the lush green pastures of the horse farm below. They hadn’t spoken since they got there. Hannah sat quietly next to Cody, their shoulders touching, offering her silent support.

  “How did you know what to do?” he finally asked.

  “My mom used to have panic attacks.”

  “Why?”

  “Is there a why?” Hannah asked.

  Cody shrugged. “For me there is.”

  Hannah searched his exquisite features, waiting for him to share more. But Cody clearly seemed tormented by the idea of saying more. To save him from suffering she began talking.

  “I don’t know what it was for my mother. I always tried to be perfect so I wouldn’t trigger her attacks. But it didn’t matter if I was the perfect daughter. In the end she left us anyway. I was eight.”

  Cody finally looked at Hannah. It felt like he was seeing her for the first time. His brown eyes glowed—the sunlight catching the tiny flecks of gold, making them dance like fireflies. There was so much sorrow on his beautiful face that Hannah barely recognized him. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, taking her hand in his.

  Hannah swallowed hard, staring at Cody’s hand and feeling his warmth and sincerity. “Thanks.”

  “It’s not your fault she had panic attacks.”

  Hannah smiled sadly and pulled her hand away. “You don’t know that.”

  “I do. We do it to ourselves. No one causes it. It’s just our inability to sort out reality.”

  “I heard my mother tell my father that we made her sick.” Hannah said quietly. She could feel Cody staring at her but she couldn’t meet his gaze. Instead, she looked down at the ground and tore up a long blade of grass, wrapping it around her finger. She gave a sad laugh. “She couldn’t stand the sight of us. And then she left us. What else am I supposed to take from that?”

  Cody grabbed Hannah’s hands, stilling her fidgeting. “I don’t know. It was probably something between your parents, because I find it pretty hard to believe that someone couldn’t stand the sight of you.” He tucked a stray piece of hair behind Hannah’s ear, smiling kindly.

  She tried to return his smile, but her heart hurt. Hannah never spoke about her mother. She tried not to think about her at all, because all it did was make her feel inadequate.

  “Thank you,” Cody said softly.

  “For what?”

  Now it was his turn to look at the ground. “For helping me.”

  Hannah hated the serious tone their conversation had taken. It felt too . . . real. Today had gotten off track and she needed to right it. “You’re welcome.” Hannah nudged Cody’s shoulder trying to lighten the mood. “So why this place?”

  “It just makes everything better.”

  “That’s all I get?”

  “I came here after my parents got divorced.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry.”

  Cody shrugged. “It’s okay. It was a long time ago.”

  “But how’d you even find this place? It’s in the middle of nowhere.”

  “I used to come here when I was a kid. My parents had horses at the stables and they would let me come out here with the hounds to placate my begging for a dog of my own.”

  “Why couldn’t you have a dog?”

  Cody sighed. “Too messy.”

  “I can see that.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Well, your house is kind of . . . sterile.”

  “Sterile?”

  “Yes. It looks like a museum. I’m actually surprised you’re allowed to live there. Your room is the only thing in the house that isn’t perfect and white.”

  Cody burst into laughter. “Please . . . don’t hold back.”

  “Sorry,” Hannah blushed.

  “No. It’s honestly refreshing. I hate my house. It’s huge, but it’s always empty. Everything has to be kept just so, but for what? It’s just me and my dad. And he’s never there. It makes no sense.”

  “The grass is always greener,” Hannah sighed.

  “You just called my house a sterile museum.”

  “Yes, but I didn’t say I wouldn’t live there. We can trade if you’d like. I have a dog, a cluttered house and my dad is always home.”

  Cody laughed. “Careful, I might take you up on it.”

  “So, it’s Friday. We blew off school . . . what do you want to do for the rest of the day?” Hannah asked.

  “I don’t know. But going to my sterile house and being alone isn’t appealing.”

  “Okay. How about we go to my house, play with Custard, and start my movie tutorial.”

  “Custard?”

  “My dog.”

  “You named your dog Custard?”

  “I was eight!”

  Cody laughed and stood up, pulling Hannah with him. “It’s a date.”

  20

  Their conversation was easy on the way to Hannah’s house. And Cody noticed she was getting more comfortable driving the Range Rover. She even dared to open the sunroof. He smiled as he watched Hannah’s hair dance about in the breeze while she animatedly told him about Custard the dog.

  It seemed he’d finally found something that she was passionate about. It was the first time he’d heard her responses not sound like an automated reading of Wikipedia. He noted the adorable dimple she had in her right cheek when she laughed. He found himself absurdly jealous of the outpouring of love that Custard conjured in Hannah. He couldn’t wait to meet the fur ball and size him up.

  It turned out it was impossible not to like Custard. The chubby corgi greeted them at the door with excited yips and tail wagging. It was Mr. Stark that needed coaxing from Hannah.

  “Dad, I’m home.”

  There was a muffled response from somewhere in the cluttered house.

  “I brought a friend from school over.”

  Another muffled grunt.

  “I’ll be right back,” Hannah said apologetically before disappearing with Custard hot on her heels. Cody couldn’t help but smile as he watched the little dog jog adoringly after Hannah, his short legs tripping over the mess of wires and books that covered the living room floor.

  Cody’s eyes absorbed the cheerfulness of Hannah’s home. It was small, but exploding with color and life. Every mismatched piece of furniture was covered with either books or framed portraits of Hannah smiling brightl
y back at him. There were framed diplomas, trophies and knickknacks everywhere—globes, antique clocks and model cars. Cozy blankets of different sizes and colors draped the back of the eclectic chairs and sofas, inviting him to sit and stay awhile. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason to the decorating style of the house and Cody loved it.

  He was smirking and shaking his head when Hannah reappeared with two bottles of water.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Nothing,” he replied coyly. He followed her up the stairs to her bedroom and laughed when he entered the room. “Now this is more like it.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, hands on her hips.

  “To see into ones room, is to see into their soul.”

  “That’s not a quote,” Hannah scoffed.

  “Well it should be. I was starting to think I had you all wrong, but this room is you, down to the perfectly pressed vanilla drapes and matching comforter.”

  “I like order. You saw the rest of my house. It’s a bit . . . busy. I find I’m most productive in a calm environment.”

  “You mean bland environment,” Cody teased tossing the plainest beige pillow he’d ever seen at Hannah.

  “Hey!”

  Custard barked and promptly leaped onto the pillow making himself comfortable.

  Hannah crouched down and scratched his neck before giving him a kiss on the head. “Don’t you look like a little prince,” she crooned in a childish voice.

  “More like a fat old king,” Cody joked.

  Hannah mocked insult and tried to cover Custard’s gigantic ears. “Don’t you listen to the grouch, Custard. He’s just jealous.”

  Custard barked in agreement and Cody laughed. “Alright, we haven’t got all day. Let’s get this movie marathon started.”

  Hannah started out taking notes, but halfway through Pretty Woman she gave up.

  “I can’t believe you Pretty-Womaned me at Neiman Marcus! This movie is ridiculous!”

  “It’s a classic,” Cody argued lounging on her bed with Custard traitorously cuddled next to him. One belly rub was all it took and he’d been laying paws up next to Cody for the remainder of the movie.

  “How is a prostitute falling for a rich guy a classic?”

  “It’s like a modern Cinderella.”

  Now it was Hannah’s turn to throw a pillow. “This is the most chauvinistic, unlikely, degrading . . .”

  “Isn’t that what fairytales are?” Cody laughed.

  Hannah sighed. “Yes, and I suppose that’s why I’m not a fan of fairytales. But this is still a terrible movie.”

  “No way! I love Pretty Woman.”

  “Oh, please! Are you telling me if you were Richard Gere you’d fall for her?”

  “She knows cars. That’s hot.”

  Hannah rolled her eyes.

  “And she’s easy to talk to. Plus I like all her random facts.”

  “Random facts?”

  “Don’t think I didn’t see you checking the length of your foot,” Cody taunted, playfully grabbing Hannah’s feet. “It’s true, you know? Your foot is as long as your elbow to your wrist,” he said skimming his fingers teasingly over her captive feet.

  She squealed, in terror. “No!”

  “Is someone ticklish?”

  She shook her head fervently, but her flushed cheeks and wide eyes gave her away and Cody lunged. He and Custard ganged up on her, pinning her to the bed and ruthlessly tickling her—Custard’s wet nose worming its way to her ears and neck.

  “Omigod! No! Stop!” Hannah’s protests and squealing laughter peeled through the room, mixed with Custard’s barking and Cody’s taunts.

  Hannah tried to fight back but Cody wasn’t nearly as ticklish and his precise attacks to her thighs and ribs turned her muscles to jelly, leaving her breathless.

  Cody straddled her, knees on either side of her hips. She squirmed and he laughed, weaving his fingers with hers as she tried to fend him off. She was suddenly mesmerized by the joy on his beautiful face. This was the second time today Hannah was seeing behind the veil—the real Cody—not the dark, brooding boy he wanted the world to see.

  Her heart hammered in her chest. Hannah stilled, her cheeks rosy as she gazed at her reflection in his dark eyes. Cody stopped moving too. His face was inches from hers, his warm breath mixing with hers. Cody pushed her hands above her head, their fingers still intertwined. She licked her lips, trembling at the confusing emotions racing through her.

  Suddenly this didn’t feel like practice. But it didn’t feel wrong either.

  21

  Hannah’s shiny blonde hair was sprawled out on the bed like a crown. Cody wanted to touch it. He wanted to touch all of her. He wanted to bury himself in her beauty and drive away the remaining darkness that had tried to drown him today. But he couldn’t. Not without consequences. Not without screwing everything up. But just the same, he couldn’t pull himself away from Hannah either.

  Watching her lick her delicate pink lips sent shockwaves straight to his core. He was losing his resolve. And then she bit her lip, looking at him with a strange mix of desire and fear. Shit, pull away, Cody. But he couldn’t. He was transfixed in the moment, powerless to her will. How was this beautiful creature untouched? Was that the only reason he wanted her?

  Hannah blinked as though she’d heard his thoughts and let go of his hands. Good, he thought. Pull away from me, because I’m too weak to do it myself.

  But instead of pushing him off, Hannah’s hands settled on either side of Cody’s face. She slid one hand into his hair making him shudder and close his eyes. Her other hand delicately traced his jaw until she reached his lips. He parted them and exhaled her name, but she swallowed his words, pressing her lips to his.

  The kiss ignited a spark that threatened to combust everything around them. Cody sighed into the kiss and let go of his final ounce of restraint. He’d been holding onto his darkness for over a year and Hannah had been slowly poking holes in his armor, shining in bits of light. But it wasn’t enough to sustain him. He’d had a taste and he wanted more—needed more.

  Their hands chased each other, greedily stripping away the clothing keeping them apart. Cody fisted his hands in Hannah’s hair, kissing her desperately. And from the way she kissed him back, it was evident that this was no longer pretend.

  Shit! Stop this right now, Matthews.

  But he couldn’t. Not when Hannah was laying before him looking like an angel in the lingerie he bought her.

  To conquer the world, indeed.

  Cody was convinced there was no one on the planet who could resist Hannah when she was looking at him the way she was right now. Full of hope and promises. Cody had no doubt that if he let her, Hannah would take away his pain and self-loathing. He knew he could bury himself in her goodness for a while. But would she be just another Band-Aid or could she really heal him? And how bad would he destroy her in the process?

  He didn’t have time to contemplate. A sharp knock at the door broke them from their trance. Hannah quickly jumped to her feet and threw on an oversized sweatshirt and pajama pants that were conveniently resting on her desk chair, while Cody scrambled into his khakis and t-shirt.

  Hannah quickly checked her reflection in the mirror and smoothed her hair down. She looked at Cody who was now sitting on the bed looking a bit shell shocked. Custard was sitting at his feet wagging his tail. Hannah creaked the door up to see her father’s anxious face.

  “Hey, Dad.”

  “Everything all right up here? I thought I heard yelling.”

  “Yes everything’s fine. Just watching movies and playing with Custard.”

  Her father tried to peer around her into the room. “Dad, do we have any popcorn?” she asked distracting him from the disheveled appearance of her bed. “We need movie snacks.”

  “Yes. The air pop is in the pantry.”

  “Great! Can you help me get it down,” she asked, moving into the hall and tugging her father with her. He nodded distractedl
y. “Cody, queue up the next film, I’ll be back in a minute,” she called over her shoulder, desperately hoping he’d still be there when she got back to her room. The haunted look on his face the moment before her father interrupted them worried her.

  22

  Cody paced Hannah’s room and chastised himself for letting things go too far. Get it together, Matthews. Today had snowballed. The best thing he could do was leave and pretend it never happened. Denial—that was something he was good at, something he was prepared for. Unlike this . . . whatever this was. He rubbed his face in frustration. How the hell had Hannah Stark disarmed him?

  He needed to leave before things got even more out of hand. Cody moved around the room collecting his articles of discarded clothing. He found his tie lying across Hannah’s desk. He marched over to snag it and glanced at the open notebook it was resting on. Cody blinked in disbelief as he read Hannah’s scrawling penmanship on the page.

  Keep your eyes on the prize.

  Get the key.

  Get the guy.

  Make memories.

  Give epic graduation speech.

  Check high school perfection off my résumé.

  “Practice makes perfect.”

  He snorted. “And she thinks fairytales are fucked up.”

  Maybe Cody was wrong. Hannah didn’t feel anything, she was just using him. That was their deal, after all. He sighed, his mind mingled with a mix of disappointment and relief. He needed to get over it. Whatever moment he thought he had with Hannah hadn’t been real. And it didn’t matter—he wouldn’t let her matter.

  After Elena, he vowed not to let anyone in again. So what if Hannah was using him. At least she was upfront about it. Cody had used plenty of people. This was probably just karmic payback. Besides, wasn’t he using her too? Playing their twisted game was better than facing the dark pain that came crashing in whenever he was alone.