As their friendship blossoms quickly into a steamy romance, Reagan and Ian have to learn to navigate their shifting relationship…and everything that entails. But their newfound bliss doesn’t come without a few unexpected challenges.
In the midst of realizing just how sweet the romance can be between them, and all the benefits of their new dynamic, Reagan is informed that her ideal situation has changed. Not only will she need to begin taking on more classes to speed up her graduation date, but she’ll also have to start looking for a job to supplement her fading income. Meanwhile, Ian has chosen to pull out of school once his father is diagnosed with a terminal illness in order to help manage the family business and spend time with him while he still can. But he wrestles with the guilt of leaving Reagan behind, and the pressure of his new responsibilities. As the two meet their new challenges head-on, they’ll be forced to discover whether or not they’re as compatible as lovers as they were as friends. With their focus pulled in so many directions, will they have what it takes to keep a long distance relationship alive? Can Ian prove that he’s still be the perfect boyfriend, or will they fold to statistics under the growing tensions of their lives? Throw in some manipulative exes, a new boss with an inflated ego, and a co-worker from hell and the two have a recipe for either a fairy tale ending, or a complete disaster.
The Perfect Boyfriend is a New Adult Romance about trust, love, and discovering the true depths of personal strength.
Renee’ Novelle is Preceded by a long line of published family members, including Pulitzer Prize nominated author and Poet Laureate of Kentucky Jesse Stuart. As a child, Novelle was already gaining recognition for several of her works, and in her formative years, she continued this trend by earning local awards for her short stories and poems. Inspired to cultivate her talent, Novelle pursued freelance journalism and has found placement of 75 of her pieces in both online and print publications since 2008. Additionally, she has written multiple screenplays, and contributed her savvy, effective writing style to many non-profit and for profit organizations. She launched several blogs over the years, which garnered international attention. In 2013, Novelle returned to her first love – fiction. She writes psychological and paranormal thrillers, as well as contemporary fiction and new adult fiction. Though she received her Bachelor’s of Science in Communication, Summa Cum Laude, she considers herself a constant student of the written word. She’s an avid reader, an enthusiastic quote poster, and rarely takes “no” as a final answer. She has an unhealthy obsession for theater, dance, music and art, and strongly believes that wine is simultaneously the beginning of, and resolution to, all of life’s problems. She believes in following dreams, and that in the end, you always end up where you're meant to be.
“You told me I could see.” Reagan was insisting, her back turned toward the mirror in her bathroom.
Petra was standing over her, make-up brush still in hand, heavy with color on the tip. “I said you could see when I was done. I’m not done yet. Close your eyes.” Then she swiped a little color into the crease of Reagan’s large eyes and rubbed it along the lash-line to create a smoky effect. Next she added a couple layers of mascara, swiped some red lipstick onto Reagan’s full lips and fluffed the curls around her face that she’d created earlier in the evening. “Now I’m done. Take a look.”
Petra stood back, beaming with pride at her creation as Reagan swiveled around to get a good look at herself.
“Oh my god.” The words tumbled from her lips on a breathless whisper of amazement. “Oh my god, Petra.” Then she leaned closer in, scrutinizing her appearance. She looked like one of the models she’d seen in the lingerie store pictures.
“See.” Petra was smiling as she pulled out her phone and took a quick picture of the two of them to upload to Instagram later. “I always told you you were hot. Now will you believe me?”
“Wow. I guess I’m gonna have to.”
“You’re welcome.” Petra chirped happily as she packed up her tools and walked out of the room to make herself a drink while Reagan changed into her outfit.
But Reagan was beginning to think she might need a drink herself.
As she added dangling earrings and a bright cocktail ring to spruce up her dress, she began to wonder to herself what exactly to expect from the evening. Every other first date she’d been on had been a variation on the casual dinner/movies theme. Maybe a couple drinks at a popular bar. If she was lucky, really lucky, and the guy had any amount of romantic streak in him, they might end up at Carrabba’s or The Cheesecake Factory or some other place that was a step up from average but far from fancy. This was college, and it was all par for the course when the end result was only meant to be some casual fun.
But then again, this was Ian she was going out with tonight. And Ian never did things quite like any other guy. Somehow from day one he’d been plugged in to this uber-sophisticated, way more mature lifestyle and understanding of how things were supposed to work than most guys his age. She wasn’t quite sure how he’d managed it, but it was one of his many appealing qualities. So the status quo was immediately tossed out the window. And it’s not like he’d given her much of an idea to go on, other than to dress nice, so the part of her that needed to have things in order and a plan to rely on was a little thrown off.
Yet she had to admit to herself that the not knowing part had made it that much more exciting too. Yes, she had known Ian for the better part of her college life, but she had no idea what dating him would be like. Not really. Because he’d never really dated a girl before. And the more she thought about it, the stronger the jitters grew that were working their way up from her core as ideas and images ran through her head. And by the time she heard the solid knock at the front door, she was practically bursting with excitement and nerves.
She raced from her room, but backtracked when she realized she’d forgotten perfume. Spritzing a little of her favorite scent on her neck, cleavage and wrists, she took one final glance into her full-length mirror and murmured to herself, “Well, this is it.” Then she nodded in approval and left her room again.
By the time Reagan emerged, Petra had beat her to the door and she could hear her friend giving Ian the rundown. “I don’t expect you to bring her home tonight. In fact, I really hope you don’t. But if anything happens to her, sohelpmegod I will hunt you down and murder you myself. Got it?”
“Yes ma’am.” Came Ian’s good-natured reply, to which Reagan smiled warmly.
Then Reagan rounded the corner of the hallway, and got her first glimpse of him standing the doorway. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen him in a suit – they’d passed that milestone already – but damn the man could pull off a dinner jacket like nothing she’d ever seen before, and the result of his broad shoulders and perfect face dressed up like that nearly took her breath away.
Apparently the feeling was mutual. She could hear him suck in a deep breath, as though the first sight of her had far exceeded any expectation he’d put on the evening. Then he blew it out again - a long, low steady stream of appreciation as his eyes moved over every inch of her body, lingering at her cleavage then finally meeting her eyes. His expression had shifted somehow, from an almost casual nervousness to a wicked sensuality that was asking to devour her. It was a foreshadowing of what was come, Reagan could feel it in her gut. And if he continued to look at her with those heavy, darkened eyes and the charming curl of his lip that forced a slight dimple into the side of his cheek, she might just let him have his way.
~~~~~~
The black Camaro was shimmering under the fading sunlight, fresh from a detailed washing earlier that day. Reagan reached for the handle to the passenger side door, as she had at least a dozen times before, but Ian put a hand up to stop her. Instead, he drew the door back himself, opening it in a chivalrous move that revealed something in the seat waiting for her - a slim, robin’s egg blue box wrapped with a crisp white bow.
“What’s this?” Reagan inquired excitedly after immediately recognizing the trademark packaging.
“I wanted to get you something special.” He said, smiling mischievously as he leaned down to retrieve the box and place it in her eager hands. “Something to remind you of what you mean to me, and how important this night is.”
Reagan eyed him suspiciously, but her fingers trembled as she pulled at the bow and opened the box. A tiny gasp of surprise emerged from her throat, and the familiar sting in her eyes returned as tears of joy pooled, threatening to spill down her cheeks. Blinking them back, she looked up at Ian then back down at the delicate silver bracelet that was stretched the length of the box. It was a dual silver chain, knotted sweetly around a silver infinity symbol.
“It’s beautiful.” She exclaimed, her voice the hushed whisper of a woman impressed.
“I want you to know that this is real for me.” He began as he removed the token from the box and began to clasp it around her right wrist. “This isn’t just another first date. This is the beginning of forever for you and me. And if you decide that’s not what you want down the road, that’s fine. But Reagan, my intentions aren’t just to find another short-term girlfriend. I want you, all of you, for as long as you’re willing to give me.”
~~~~~~
Reagan’s time with Ian was never long enough. Not really. Not when she was still used to having him in her life every day – man she’d really taken that for granted, hadn’t she? But her moments with him now were sweeter, more complete. And the remainder of the weekend had passed without any other dramatic events. It would hold her over until the next time they could steal some time together. At least, she hoped it would.
But now it was over. And she was back to her regular schedule. Except this week was a little different. This week she’d throw her new internship into the mix and learn just how good of a juggler she could be – her class schedule, new assignments, friendships, her relationship, the internship and anything else that the universe cared to throw at her. It was no joke, that was for sure, and Reagan was beginning to feel all of the pressures that the outside world held for her once she graduated. But she could manage it, she remind herself as she changed clothes for her new role. She didn’t have any other choice but to make it all work somehow.
After having picked up a few new outfits to compliment her new important role – using some of the money she’d kept from the club, of course - Petra had helped her coordinate the rest of her wardrobe to expand her options. And the result was at least a couple weeks worth of choices that had left her feeling confident, appropriate, and ready to impress. Every little detail counted, and her poise when she stepped through the large glass doors that first day spoke volumes toward her ambitions. Reagan had set herself up to succeed in every possible way.
Having no real instruction with which to work from on how to approach her first day, she strode up to the receptionist, who this time greeted her with a friendly smile. Success already, she thought to herself, and her smile widened that much more. “Welcome back Reagan.” The woman began. “You’re all going to be starting in the conference room today. Around that corner and through the second door.”
“All?” Reagan had known she wasn’t the only intern, but the phrase made it seem like there was an army in attendance, and the thought sent a little shiver of nerves up her spine.
“There’s three of you. You have a quick orientation together, then it’s all smooth sailing from there.”
Reagan nodded as she contemplated this answer. Nothing was ever exactly smooth sailing when you threw a bunch of competitive girls together and told them to battle it out to impress the new boss. But one could always hope for the best...
The heels she’d chosen tapped lightly as she clipped down the slick hall and toward the door marked, Conference, #2. She noticed her hand trembling as she lifted it to turn the handle. Taking a deep breath, she tried to let go of all her anxious energy – just be yourself, she lectured – then she forced a huge smile over her face.
But when she stepped through the door, her face immediately fell. All the calm composure she’d just summoned drained from her body and left her face as white as the stark walls. The shaking returned, only it wasn’t from nerves now. Her body was riddled with anger, contempt and yes, even a little humor as she considered the universe’s latest irony.
Because the first person to turn around when she stepped into the room was Isabella. The Isabella. The Isabella who had stolen her boyfriend. Who had tried to seduce Ian. And had otherwise made her existence miserable. The Isabella who had ruined spring break, nearly ruined Petra’s party, and had caused Reagan to question almost everything she knew about people. That Isabella was nearly three feet away from her, dressed in a fitted color-block dress she’d probably picked up at Bebe just to show off her flawless figure. Apparently, whatever dislike Reagan had for her was a mutual feeling, since she was smirking in recognition as she gave Reagan a long, lingering, stare meant to intimidate and demean without saying a single word.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” The words slipped from Reagan’s lips before she could stop them, and she found herself regretting the thought the moment she’d heard it.
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