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Authors: R.S. Novelle,Renee Novelle

The Boyfriend List

BOOK: The Boyfriend List
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The Boyfriend List

By Renee’ Novelle

 
 
 
 

Copyright ©
2014 by Renee Novelle


 

All rights
reserved. This book or any portion thereof
 may not be reproduced or used
in any manner whatsoever 
without the express written permission of the
publisher 
except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

The purchaser of this book
is subject to the condition that he/she shall in no way resell it, nor any part
of it, nor make copies of it to distribute freely.

 
 

This book is a work
of fiction. Any similarity between the characters and situations within its
pages and places or persons, living or dead, is unintentional and
co-incidental.

 
 
 

Find out more about
this author, and any upcoming works, at the following sites:

 

www.ReneeNovelle.com

 

Amazon:
https://www.amazon.com/author/rsnovelle

Amazon UK:
http://www.amazon.co.uk/-/e/B00EWLOKIG

Goodreads:
https://www.goodreads.com/RSNovelle

 

Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/ReneeNovelle

 

Twitter:
https://twitter.com/RS_Novelle

 
 
 
CHAPTER ONE
 

Sunday

 

This must be hell
.

Twenty-year-old
Reagan Carter had never been one for religion or superstition. She loved black
cats, could care less if she walked under a ladder, and thought Halloween was
charming. Heaven, to her, was reading her favorite books while surrounded by
puppies and noshing on chocolate truffles. And that had almost happened,
believe it or not – once.

But
somehow, the fifteen-minute cab ride from her apartment near campus to her
favorite restaurant downtown had converted her philosophy. If ever there was a
time to believe in hell, it was now. And this experience - with the germ laden,
cracked, uncomfortable pleather seats in a cab that reeked of stale fast food
bags - would be her everlasting punishment for all the times she’d taken her
own, sometimes-working vehicle for granted. There was absolutely, positively,
no doubt in her mind about that.

God
how she missed her car right now!

But
it wasn’t just the cab ride alone that had her thinking this way, she
considered as her destination neared. It had been the entire culmination of
events that had turned what should have been an epic spring break victory into
a major disaster. And it had all started when her way too cute boyfriend had
cancelled their plans together at his family lake house. She’d thought the
excuse was strange at the time – no one, absolutely
no one
, just up and decides to cancel romantic plans with their
girlfriend in favor of a family road trip to a distant relatives wedding. That
had been a big red flag. Huge.

And
by the end of the week, her suspicions had been confirmed as word had reached
Reagan that not only had the road trip never taken place - as she’d suspected -
but Justin had spent lots of really close
personal
time with a stunning brunette. According to the pictures she’d seen, she was
the kind of girl that gets put on the cover of men’s magazines, but you never
actually
end up meeting. At least,
you’re not supposed to. The kind that oozes sexuality from every annoying pore
in her body. The kind with annoyingly perfect hair, perfect makeup and a
perfectly small waist that you’d swear was Photoshopped. Only in this
case...she hadn’t been, and she was just as real as Reagan was herself.

Catching
the faint reflection of herself in the car window, she realized she was sulking
despite her best intentions not to, and she straightened her shoulders a little
in defiance.

The
pictures she’d seen of the two of them,
in
front of the family lake house
, spoke loudly of their intimacy. He didn’t
need to admit to Reagan he’d hooked up with the boyfriend stealing slut, it was
written plainly enough in the visual that was now seared into her memory
forever – thank you Facebook.

Reagan
shook her head as though to shake the memories out. She certainly had a talent
for picking the wrong guys. Always had. Probably always would, she sighed. And
though the tears had threatened to creep up on more than one occasion when she
thought about the disaster, she refused to cry over it. They hadn’t been
together long enough, and he wasn’t worth it. Instead, she vowed to never let
it happen again, and allowed herself to get mad. Seriously mad. At him. At the
boyfriend stealing slut. At herself for letting it happen in the first place. Lesson
learned.

When
the car finally rolled to a stop, Reagan nearly danced out of her seat, jumped
from the car and kissed the ground. And maybe if there hadn’t been so many
people packed onto the sidewalks, she would’ve actually gone through with it. The
fact that she’d survived her first cab ride under the most horrendous
conditions was worthy enough of the dramatic celebration. But there was no time
for such frivolity. If the cab ride had been her hell, then this restaurant was
a little slice of heaven. A monument in her private life and a testament that
there was still good to be found in the world, the Blue Nickel cafe was a place
she very much needed to be at the moment.

To
say it was her favorite restaurant in the city was an understatement. Whenever
she’d managed to rustle up a little extra cash,
this
was where she came to save herself from the cafeteria food her
scholarship provided...or worse – her own attempts at cooking. She’d
discovered the first semester that one could not live on ramen noodles alone,
though she’d given it a pretty good try since her budget was fairly slim. Her
mom had managed to save enough to give her a monthly allowance that would pay
for the basic necessities so she could focus on her schoolwork instead of
spending her time laboring at a part time job. But, the necessities were about
all it covered, and extravagances like dining out, weekends of partying and the
other typical college experiences just weren’t covered in the budget.

“Hold on a minute.” Reagan mumbled to the cab driver as
she fumbled with her purse. He’d barely made so much of a grunt of
communication the entire trip, and she was trying her hardest not to make eye
contact with him as she began counting bills into the palm of his stubby,
sweaty hand. She felt his eyes trailing over her more than ample cleavage
– covered though it was - and it was making her considerably
uncomfortable. Still, she couldn’t help but notice the blatant resemblance she
saw in a certain well-known Star Wars character as he seemed to overflow from
his seat, and she wondered if she had the audacity to mention it to him.

Deciding that she didn’t, despite everything, she
finished her business as quickly as she could and removed herself from the cab.
As she breathed in a deep, full breath of clean air, she withdrew her phone
from her satchel in preparation to text her friend Petra that she’d
finally
arrived.
 

 
“Hey! You
gonna stand there all day, or do I gotta teach you how to close a door?”

Reagan turned slowly back, glaring daggers at the man
from under her thick eyelashes. Good thing she hadn’t given him a tip. Then,
offering up her fakest, most sarcastic smile, she slammed the door as hard as
she could and flipped him off in the process. It was the best she could do at
being a bitch, and it seemed to have had the desired effect. As the cab
squealed away, irreverent of the pedestrians crossing the road, Reagan stepped
up onto the sidewalk, into the busy crowd... and right in the way of a
pedestrian who solidly hit her shoulder before offering a rushed apology.

But it was too late. The iPhone had been knocked from
her hand and was tumbling toward the cement as though in slow motion. There was
nothing she could do other than offer a loud groan of disgust at the newfound cracks
across the sleek back.
Chalk it up to the
week from hell!
It certainly wasn’t getting replaced any time soon.

The scowl on her face, however,
was
quickly replaced by a wickedly happy smile as the caller ID
summoned her attention.

Ian Scott.

Her neighbor, newest best friend, study partner and
occasional classmate, Ian had moved into her building around the same time as
Reagan and from day one, they’d hit it off. In fact, they’d been practically
inseparable ever since. To the point where people naturally assumed they were
dating, though that would never happen, Reagan smirked. She’d made a point of
keeping him in the friend zone, and that’s exactly where he’d remain.

It wasn’t that he was unattractive. In fact, it was
really the very opposite. An intriguing combination of Zac Efron and Alex
Pettyfer, the guy had more confidence, more charisma and swagger than anyone in
college had the right to. A natural flirt, he’d earned the reputation of a
heart breaker since he had never committed to a relationship throughout his
entire college experience. And who could blame him? It wasn’t like he needed
to. He didn’t even have to go searching for women like the average guy on
campus.
They
found
him
. Their radars seemed to zero in on
him as soon as he walked into the room. She couldn’t blame them, he was
gorgeous in every possible way. But watching it happen right in front of her
had provided entertainment on more than one occasion – desperate girls
could really be comical.

And that was one of the many reasons why Reagan had
decided early on that it would be much more fun to be his friend than his ex.
Not to mention she didn’t consider herself competition to the beautiful girls
who regularly flung themselves at him, so best not to get her hopes up. Sure,
she was attractive enough. Though she had an average build, slim by most standards,
she had ample curves in all the right places that gave her a shapely, hourglass
silhouette. Plenty enough guys had found her cute over the years, she supposed.

But
cute
wasn’t good enough when the topic was Ian Scott.
Cute
couldn’t compete with the sorority girl cheerleaders, and the
wannabe actresses that the campus was littered with. Not when she was just
simple, ordinary Reagan. No, when she fell for a guy, she wanted to feel
beautiful in his eyes. Perfect. As though she were the only one in the room,
and the most intriguing person in the world to him. And wasn’t that what
every
girl ultimately deserved? To feel
special? Hell, even Rihanna had written a song about wanting a man to make her
feel like that...

Yet even as a friend, Ian had given her a taste of
what that would be like. When he talked to her, his eyes lit up, and fixated on
her as though she were the only one in his world. It was a piercing, heavy,
desirous stare that had left her breathless on more than one occasion and
speechless on several others. And if he could make her feel like that when he
was only her friend, she could just imagine how his lovers must feel.

And what it must be like when the light in his eyes had
turned cold on them again...

No, Reagan had decided, she had no desire experience
that part of it; it just wasn’t worth it. Ian was much better off remaining her
friend, and since he’d never pressed the issue of taking it further, she could
only assume he was perfectly content to stay right where she’d placed him.

“What do you want Scott?” Struggling to make her voice
sound irritated as she pressed her fingers to her eyes in concentration, she
could already feel the edges of her mouth turning up. She just couldn’t seem to
stay upset around him, even when every moment of the last week had been a
living nightmare.

 
“Nice to
hear your cheery voice.” Reagan could just picture his dark eyes sparkling with
immeasurable boyish charm as he continued. But what she wouldn’t be able to
picture, that was happening during the lengthy pause between his statements,
was the flight attendant with smoldering sex appeal as she slipped a piece of
paper into Ian’s back pants pocket while he was waiting to collect his luggage
at the airport. Giving him a nice little pat on his rear to reinforce the
gesture, she walked away with a wink. He looked at her in confusion, but
quickly returned to his conversation. “How about tryin’ this instead. ‘Good to
hear from you Ian! Are you having a nice day? I haven’t heard from you in so
long.’ Then I say, ‘Thanks so much. I am. And you?’” Reagan was giggling
uncontrollably. “Whadya think, should we try that?” Picking the paper out of
his pocket, he looked quizzically at the scrawled number before tossing it into
a nearby trashcan.

Shaking her head as a smirk crossed her lips, Reagan
replied. “Go to hell.”

“If it would make you happy, Beautiful, I just might.
I’m back in town. Want to meet up?”

BOOK: The Boyfriend List
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