Boyfriend Material Read online

  Boyfriend Material

  By K.A. Mitchell

  Physically, it’s easy for Ethan and Wyatt to be together—well, if “easy” means stolen moments when Ethan’s roommate is away, or sneaking away to a hidden nook in the library. Privacy is hard to come by in a dorm, but finding ways to connect is half the fun.

  Emotionally, though, that’s a different story. Wyatt isn’t sure if a relationship is something he can make last—years of having to hide his emotions have left him with a shaky sense of self-confidence. And when it’s time to head home for the holidays, their steamy on-campus connection may not translate so well to the real world...

  This book is approximately 29,000 words

  Dear Reader,

  I like August because it’s my birthday month. And I’m a firm believer in celebrating more than once. Since my birthday falls at the end of the month, I start early with lunches with friends, happy hour with my husband, and by gifting myself a few things I love but know that no one will gift me. Books definitely fall into that category of things I gift myself. But the truth is, I give myself books year round and I’m betting a lot of you are my reading soul mates. Books should be the one thing we never deny ourselves. So in honor of my birthday—or just because you love a good book, go ahead and gift yourself one of these new releases. And then maybe gift one to someone in your life!

  Bestselling indie author Scott Hildreth joins Carina Press with his sexy, sexy Mafia Made trilogy featuring the dangerous and mysterious Michael Tripp. In book one, The Gun Runner, she’s a mafia princess concealing her true identity while trying to win his love. He’s a former US Marine turned gunrunner at war with her father. When the truth is revealed, they’ll both have the fight of their lives on their hands.

  Fan favorite author K.A. Mitchell is back with the second part of Ethan and Wyatt’s story. They’ve accepted their love for each other but now comes the hard part—the rest of their lives. Don’t miss Boyfriend Material and be sure to pick up book one, Getting Him Back.

  Also joining us this month is another author coming to us from the world of indie publishing. Kerry Adrienne brought us this previously self-published book, and we said, “Let’s expand the heck out of this, re-edit it and turn it into an awesome series full of shifters, clan politics and sexy times.” We’re happy to say Kerry was definitely on board and the Shifter Wars series was born. In book one, Waking the Bear, sexy bear shifter Griff Martin is protector of his clan’s territory—but now a crazy lion is on the prowl and his stubborn Goldilocks, Amy Francis, shows up and won’t listen to his warnings to stay out of the forest and he can’t decide whether to bed her or send her packing. (Of course, we all know what he chooses, don’t we?)

  Ex-military pilot Seth Erickson is fighting his own demons, but when he finds Summer Silva, a beautiful, warmth-loving Miami woman stranded in the frozen wilderness, he’ll do everything in his power to keep Summer safe from murder, treason and the ruthless Alaskan winter in Anna del Mar’s newest sexy romantic suspense, The Stranger.

  Do you love the contemporary romance of Jill Shalvis and Shannon Stacey? Make sure you check out the debut romance from Jen Doyle, Calling It, as well as her newest contemporary romance, Called Up. There’s one thing Max “Deke” Deacon can always count on besides his old high school teammates: Angelica “Fitz” Hawkins. But no matter how much Deke might secretly fantasize otherwise, a relationship with his best friend’s sister is off-limits. Until one unexpectedly smoldering encounter has Deke and Fitz giving in to the feelings they’ve both been fighting for far too long.

  And last, this month in mystery we welcome Emery Harper to Carina Press! In Person of Interest, Celeste Eagan, a prep school theater teacher, gets caught up in mystery and mayhem while trying to clear first her ex’s name then her own in not one but two murders.

  For those on my side of the globe, if you’re looking for something to read next to the pool or on the beach in this last month of summer, make sure to check out Didn’t I Warn You and Didn’t You Promise by Amber Bardan. Dark, smoldering, mysterious and totally in love with his woman, Haithem will rock your world!

  For those on the other side of the globe, if you’re looking for a book to heat up your cold, drizzly days, make sure to pick up the Vengeful Love trilogy by Laura Carter. From the very first page to the heart-stopping conclusion, from London to Rome to Dubai, these sinfully addictive novels will have you ignoring your dishes and calling in sick to life in order to read just one...more...page.

  Coming next month: We’re doing it up different. One author, one story, two books, in back-to-back weeks. No excruciating wait to find out what happens next. And like any good trainwreck, you won’t be able to look away from this Hollywood Hot Mess.

  As always, until next month, my fellow book lovers, here’s wishing you a wonderful month of books you love, remember and recommend.

  Happy reading!

  ~Angela James

  Executive Editor, Carina Press

  Dedication

  For my tea friends. Thanks for the weekly doses of sanity and fun.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 1

  “I can’t wait for you to come,” Ethan murmured in my good ear.

  Since Ethan was my boyfriend, that could have been seriously hot. If we were in bed. Or even on the landing of the back stairs in the student center. My dick still perked up some every time I took those stairs.

  Unfortunately, we were in front of the science center on the east campus. With his best friend Makayla, and Samantha, a girl from their bio class. And the coming Ethan was talking about was me coming to spend Thanksgiving with him and his parents.

  Yeah, that was a great plan. Me, inbred trailer trash and felon, walking in to meet dentist dad and legal secretary mom. Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Monroe, I’m sleeping with your son. I’ll try not to steal anything. I think I’d have felt more comfortable going back to the Industrial Home for Boys, which was the official title of the hell-hole juvenile detention center where I’d spent two birthdays.

  The thing was, being around Ethan made what was obviously the worst idea ever seem possible. Ethan made everything seem possible. Like me having a boyfriend in the first place.

  I still tripped over that word, boyfriend. Not because of the gay thing. Truth, it was kind of a relief to know for sure I was. I’d been a freak all my life because of my different colored eyes and weird streaked hair. Being queer seemed almost easier.

  Wait, that was bullshit. My boyfriend made it easier. See, he has this smile. Happiness just pours out of him, and that turned me inside out in the worst—and the best—way ever. I still don’t believe he’s mine, that I get to kiss him and touch him and come with him—in the other way, not the home-to-meet-the-parents way.

  Nice shit just didn’t happen in my life. I didn’t get the prize. I got the kick in the teeth. I sure as hell didn’t get to go home with my hot boyfriend to his perfect gay-accepting parents and have the kind of Thanksgiving I’d only ever seen on TV.

  Ethan draped his arm over my shoulders while Makayla said something about deep-fried turkey.

  I tried not to flinch. Not because of sizzling turkey—I’m not vegan or anything—and not because of the gay thing. Well, maybe the gay
thing some, though I knew we weren’t likely to get beat up for hand-holding on campus. The bigger thing was getting used to having someone touch me, that way. Just because.

  I didn’t flinch, but I got tense. After shooting me a look, he kept his arm across my back, not tight, but there. A weight I couldn’t ignore. Not that I wanted to.

  He leaned his head against mine, turned to whisper into my good ear. “Everything will be great. All my friends already love you. My family will too.”

  I didn’t believe him, Ethan’s a hopeless optimist, but that he picked up on my tension, and tried to reassure me in his oblivious-to-shitty-reality way, meant something. It meant a lot actually.

  Then his breath tickled my ear and I was almost a believer. A rush of heat went right to my dick.

  “Are you coming with us to lunch?” Ethan had an expectant look on his face, brown eyes wide like a dog waiting to be patted on the head for not doing his business in the house.

  Oh, right. In addition to getting used to the whole boyfriend idea, there was the extra layer of expectations that came from all his friends—and him assuming I always wanted to join in.

  “Yes. Thanks for asking,” I told him, and if he had a tail, he’d have wagged it. Yeah, he was adorably trainable.

  “We don’t have to stay long,” Ethan added, proving how much of a good job I was doing on the training. “We can go catch some alone time before I have to go to work study.”

  Ethan understood that I wasn’t exactly the most social human on the planet. Even if I wanted to be, group conversation got dicey because lots of what came in through my left ear was static. But in Ethan-speak, alone time meant making out someplace, or sex if his roommate wasn’t going back to the room after lunch.

  Maybe I wasn’t the one doing all the behavior conditioning. Ethan knew how to make me sit up and beg too.

  I headed for the dining hall, ready to leave Makayla and Samantha and their shorter legs in the dust, but as I got close to the door, I had to yield to a group of sorority pledges, chanting and marching in lockstep.

  Samantha caught up and sniffed. “Some people are so desperate to belong they sacrifice who they are.”

  I looked back over my shoulder at the retreating pledge group in reluctant sympathy. Wasn’t I doing the same, tagging along with Ethan’s friends, trying to belong? I’d already fucked up my life once doing that. Getting fooled into thinking I had friends four years ago had left me with a broken rib in a crashed stolen car with two grand of liquor cases for the cops to find. That had earned me a nice stretch of belonging in juvie. Aside from that interruption, talk in the deli line and at the table was focused on Thanksgiving break like they all had some poor feathered bastard lined up in their Bushnell rifle scopes.

  “Wyatt, have you ever had a deep-fried turkey?” Makayla asked. I liked Ethan’s bestie, as she referred to herself. She was considerate enough to always say my name when she was talking to me in a group so I could focus in.

  I considered last year’s Thanksgiving bucket of fried chicken back at the trailer in Van, West Virginia. Mom had had to work. “Wouldn’t that be the same as fast food?”

  “Oh my God, no.” Her eyes went wide. “There’s no breading on it. And the skin is super crispy. The meat is so juicy you could cry.”

  I didn’t have much experience with girls and sex—or girls and sex separately—but Makayla looked like talking about deep-fried turkey was about to give her an orgasm.

  “Maybe you and your deep-fried turkey need some time alone together?” Ethan suggested.

  She reached across and stole one of the potato chips from his tray. “Be nice or I won’t try to keep some safe from my uncles so you guys can try it on Friday when you come over. Of course, it’s not as good the next day.”

  “Friday?” I turned to look at Ethan.

  He offered me one of those Ethan smiles that, with his brown eyes, made a simple no feel like drowning a bag of puppies. Not that I ever had. Contrary to some of the stuff people said, we don’t eat dogs in Appalachia.

  Makayla didn’t need another person to carry on a conversation, so she ignored my question and went on to list the various other items her family served for Thanksgiving.

  Under the table, Ethan put his hand on my thigh. “Makayla and I figured out we only live about an hour away. She invited us to come down and hang out with her on Friday. Catch a movie.”

  Point for, less parent time. Point against, still more people. Lots more people based on what I knew of Makayla.

  The old trailer and a bucket of Colonel Sanders’s special recipe started looking like the better option.

  “We don’t have to go if you don’t want to.” Ethan’s thumb drifted toward my inseam.

  Of course, the trailer didn’t offer Ethan, specifically, alone time with Ethan. Being a virgin until nineteen meant I had some serious catching up to do. I was majorly dick-whipped.

  Speaking of extra people, Ethan’s roommate Connor joined us, along with his girlfriend, Amy. The realization that Ethan’s room was empty sank in with a balls-deep tingle. Ethan’s hand on my thigh got warmer.

  Samantha interrupted Makayla’s rapturous food descriptions with an opinion that Thanksgiving was about the white-washing of the eradication of indigenous cultures, with Connor’s girlfriend offering philosophical counterpoints about the bloody origins of other festivals. Connor got intense about his Italian combo sub, making sure his mouth was full so that it would be hard to drag an opinion out of him. I might have done the same, but thinking about Thanksgiving break and facing people who would actually want to talk to me had killed my appetite for my turkey on rye way more effectively than Amy’s most lurid description of loincloths dipped in goat’s blood.

  This was nuts. We’d only been dating for three weeks. What kind of crazy person dragged a boyfriend home to meet the parents after three fucking weeks?

  The kind of crazy person whose thumb was definitely on the inseam of my jeans now, working up into some interesting territory. My jeans were tightening on my dick, which was fortunately—or unfortunately maybe—trapped on the left side. Ethan always sat on my right, so he could talk into my good ear. Maybe I should start dressing right. At the moment, I wished I had on looser jeans.

  I swallowed around my dry throat. Yeah, I’d said I loved him, he’d said he loved me. But when we did, it had been after a tense day full of emotional puking. Also, I’d gotten an A in Intro to Psych and I knew all about the feel-good chemicals of infatuation. As the buzz of arousal got amplified by the smile on Ethan’s face, everything I’d learned about how drug addiction affected the brain made a hell of a lot more sense.

  I sure as shit needed a fix. With a sneaky smile that didn’t quite make it fully onto my lips, I shifted forward on the cafeteria seat, forcing the balls totally into Ethan’s court.

  He sputtered around the flavored water he’d been sucking down, wiping his nose and mouth on the sleeve of his sweater, but he didn’t pull his hand away.

  “You okay?” Makayla rose in concern, no doubt prepared to offer choking first aid. She was 62 inches of determined action.

  “Fine,” Ethan choked out, then shot me a dirty look—both kinds of dirty.

  Makayla rolled her eyes. “Get a room, you guys.”

  “Excellent idea.” Ethan piled up our trays. “Uh, Connor?”

  Ethan’s roommate gave him a thumbs-up. “Hanging out until my three thirty class.”

  Ethan pushed back his chair and stood. “Anyone else got stuff to throw out?”

  “Be safe.” Makayla tossed a napkin and her yogurt container onto Ethan’s tray. “Just throwing that out there.”

  “Or name the first one after me.” Connor wadded up his napkin and shot it toward the yogurt cup. It rolled over the rim and then bounced off Ethan’s tray.

  “And that’s why you
’re a computer science major, Con.” Amy patted Connor’s arm and dropped the napkin back on Ethan’s tray.

  The distraction of flying napkins kept me from seeing Blake until he was standing at the end of our table.

  “Hey, Ethan. Still taking your walk on the weird side, I see.” Blake flicked a glance at me, disgust screwing up his handsome face. Nothing new. He was my ex-roommate and Ethan’s ex-boyfriend. Guess which of us he wanted the ex prefix removed from?

  My sweatshirt hood had slipped off onto my shoulders, and I had to fight the urge to pull it up, willing myself invisible. Too late. People were already staring at the free show. Even though I couldn’t hide, my dick shrank and my balls tried to climb back up inside. Where was a distracting pledge show when you needed one?

  “God, Blake. Will you give up already?” Makayla said. “I’m sure you know how. Like all those goals you gave up in the playoffs?”

  The men’s soccer team at Coborn College had been celebrating a three years undefeated streak, until Blake took over for their injured goal keeper.

  Even that hadn’t put much of a dent in Blake’s ego. Not only was he model handsome, he had the perfect athletic build, broad shoulders, narrow waist. It was warm enough that he was showing off the muscles of his legs in jock shorts. He could actually interact with people and make them like him.

  In fact, Blake was perfect. He was also an arrogant dick.

  Ethan’s answer was more to the point. “Fuck off.”

  He’d told me more than once he wasn’t interested in getting back together with Blake. The reassurance didn’t stop me from comparing us every time I saw the asshole, and since Blake had started popping up in random places all over campus, I got to run that side-by-side evaluation a lot. I might even have designed a spreadsheet for it. I didn’t come off too good.

  After Blake dumped Ethan for being too clingy, he’d come crawling back, only to find Ethan in bed with me. He hadn’t wasted any time announcing what he knew about my criminal history. Ethan had claimed it didn’t matter to him, but I didn’t need Blake broadcasting it all over campus. It wasn’t hard to picture people clutching their backpacks and putting their hands over their wallets when I walked by. Little kids had clutched their toys to them when I’d gotten out of juvie and back to Van. I’d been banned from even the tiny store attached to the gas station.