Fantasy Boyfriend (A Tattooed Bad Boy Romance) Read online

  FANTASY BOYFRIEND

  By Vanessa Stone

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2015 Vanessa Stone

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  Chapter 1

  I felt a surge of excitement when I stepped onto the campus. It had been a long and busy summer. I had spent most of my time working as a barista at one of the local Starbucks, but I was ready to get back to business, grind the books, and of course, hang out with my sorority sisters. I was just starting the fall semester of my junior year at Boston University, relatively small by many other university standards in regard to student body, but it was one of the more affordable ones that I had been successful in snagging a scholarship towards. The urban campus was located in Boston, and since its establishment in 1969 had no less than seven Nobel laureates that included Elie Wiesel and Martin Luther King Jr. among its alumni and faculty. That illustrious pair were in good company, as other alumni of the university boasted thirty-five Pulitzer Prize winners, nine Academy award winners, and a variety of Guggenheim Fellowship holders.

  Not that I strove, or even wanted to, become part of that elite group. No, I just wanted to continue my schooling and head into a future in health care. I also had chosen Boston U because it had no less than twenty-three varsity teams, which kept my sorority sisters and me more than busy and entertained during the school year. I loved this campus, a blend of old and new, with some of the oldest buildings dating back to the early 1900s. The campus also boasted Moakley Building, otherwise known as the Boston Medical Center, a teaching hospital where I had a feeling I would be spending much of my spare time during my junior and senior years, majoring in health sciences as I was.

  My sorority sisters and I shared an old off-campus Victorian house that had been converted into first and second floor apartments. It wasn’t too far, perhaps a half-mile from the western edge of the campus, and I often walked to my classes. I belonged to Tri Delta, founded in 1888 and whose motto, "Let us steadfastly love one another," was a way in which I tried to live my life. I was willing to do that and more and continually prowled, if such a term could be used in my case, for my perfect mate. The sorority was well-known for its philanthropic support of St. Jude Children's Hospital, and as such, I also expected to do some volunteering there this year.

  I loved this area of Boston and its blend of old and new. I have an affinity for old things, though I’m not sure why. I often laughed when I told my friends I had been born in the wrong century. Nevertheless, I did appreciate the conveniences of modern life. Our old Victorian was located in a prime area of Boston, with a view of the Charles River from the attic, and we weren't far from several parks as well as Fenway Park. In fact, if I had to, I could walk just about anywhere I needed to be, from the campus of Boston U to the medical center, public libraries, grocery stores, and even the mall. We weren't far from the House of Blues or several malls with a wide range of movie theaters, food courts, and anything a college student would find interesting or convenient. We knew the neighborhood bars and hangouts, although I didn't particularly care to go clubbing alone. Some of my sisters certainly didn't mind, but I tended to be more cautious.

  My sorority sisters often teased me about being a loner, too shy for my own good. Oh, I liked to admire the guys just as much as anybody else, but more often than not, they were the ones that actually did the chasing while I did most of the watching. I don't think it’s so much a lack of self-confidence as the fact that I was looking for a specific type of guy. Maybe my standards were too high, I don't know.

  I hadn't seen my sorority sisters and best friends Becky Gaynor, Desiree Adams, or Selena Hudgens all summer. Becky Gaynor was a native Nebraskan and came from a Midwestern farm family. She hadn't quite decided what her major was going to be, but knew she had to designate one this year. She was leaning toward some kind of social work. She had traditionally Nordic features with the pale skin, light blue eyes, and blonde hair typical of her Norwegian and German ancestry. Desiree Adams was a light- skinned African-American from Georgia majoring in child education. Selena Hudgens was half-Hispanic, half-Navajo from New Mexico, majoring in criminal justice. Me, I was plain old Jessica Mallory, lower middle class native of Billings, Montana.

  All of us were transplants to Massachusetts, and we had naturally clustered together in our freshman year. Last year, we had been lucky enough to join the same sorority and found this lovely old Victorian home where we could share expenses and live together.

  At the end of our sophomore year, we had bid each other goodbye at the train station and gone our separate ways. I had gone back to Montana to visit with my family. Oh, we'd kept in contact by cell phone and Skype, but it would be nice to once again return to the home we'd shared last year. Well before the school year had ended last semester, we had renewed our intention with the landlord to occupy the top floor of the old Victorian. Although I and my sisters could party hearty with the best of them, we were also responsible young women who took care of the building. The landlord seemed to recognize that and appreciated it.

  I was especially fond of the old house, which wasn't surprising considering all the historical romance novels I love to read. There was something about the Victorian era that captivated me, and I was indeed fortunate that I had been able to find this place to share with my friends. We split the rent for the top floor four ways, which certainly made it affordable. We knew we were lucky to have been able to find a place to live so close to campus that we could engage in regular sorority events, our classes, and of course, the sporting activities on campus, which mainly included boy-watching and plenty of chasing.

  I smiled as I walked into the old building and headed upstairs. At the top of the stairs was a small landing. To the immediate left was one of the larger rooms on this floor, which Becky and Desiree shared. The room immediately to the right of the stairs had been tapped by Selena, while I had the room down the hall, a kind of U-turn away from the landing. A large kitchen downstairs served as a communal space for all the apartment tenants. Three rooms had also been converted into small apartments downstairs and were occupied by three additional girls, though they didn’t belong to our sorority. I didn’t know the girls from last year, but I knew that they had moved on and three new tenants would certainly be occupying that space soon. Down in the kitchen, two large side-by-side refrigerators were adequate for all our needs. Everyone was designated a specific shelf in the refrigerators, with a verbal and written agreement in the lease defining no "stealing" of other people's food. The same went for the cabinets. Each of the overhead cabinets in the kitchen was labeled with the names of the apartment tenants. As in the case of Becky and Desiree, they shared the largest cabinet, while Selena and I each had one of our own, as did the first floor residents.

  The arrangements worked out pretty well, although sometimes we had to plan ahead as to who wanted to use the stove or the oven, but if our downstairs tenants were anything like last year’s, it wouldn't take long for all of us to agree on schedules and compromise on usage. Everyone was responsible for cleaning up after themselves. The la
ndlord insisted that all cooking equipment and utensils be washed and put away before bedtime to cut down on the chance of roaches or other pests. We were all more than happy to comply, as all of us got the heebie-jeebies at the thought of cockroaches, ants, or mice.

  I was anxious to reconnect with my friends and hear about their escapades, boyfriends, and romantic adventures over the past summer. While I had nothing very exciting to relate, having been too busy working, I often lived vicariously through my "sisters" and their…how should I put it…their “adventures” with their boyfriends, which also included sexual escapades.

  At the top of the stairs, I turned left toward Becky and Desiree's room. I knew that the others had arrived before me, and if our habits were still intact, they would all be gathered there. I knocked on the door. Moments later, it was opened by Becky. She squealed in delight.

  "Jessica's here!"

  The sound of excited feminine voices bombarded me as I entered, my own excited voice joining in with theirs. All of us tried to talk at once, laughing, hugging, and giving each other the once over. It was good to be back in the cluster of my friends, a group of people that had never made me feel more welcome and safe than when I was in their company. Soon, we had all made ourselves comfortable on the twin beds that Becky and Desiree had arranged in the main room. It was more like a studio apartment with a bathroom, but it was big enough for the two twin beds, two dressers, two small desks, and a small entertainment center holding a collection of books, stereo equipment, a flat screen TV, and a collection of DVDs.

  After we had all settled and gotten comfortable, it was time to compare notes. Becky went first. "I met the most gorgeous guy this summer," she began. "He looked like a younger version of James Dean! The only thing I didn't like about him was he smelled like cigarettes all the time." She made a face. "He had the greatest body in the world, and let me tell you, he was a fine lover, but he always tasted of cigarettes."

  "Eww," Desiree said. "Did you say anything to him about it?"

  "No," Becky smiled. "It wasn't like either one of us expected anything serious out of the relationship, and like I said, he was a great lover-"

  "You used protection, didn't you?" Selena interrupted.

  "Yes, Mother," Becky said, making another face. "Not only am I on the pill, but I made sure that he wore a condom every time."

  "Sounds wonderful," Desiree commented. "You learn anything new?"

  Becky smiled knowingly. "Did I ever!”

  As the girls compared notes, I found myself entranced by their new experiences and sexual maturity. I on the other hand, had nothing much to share.

  "Your turn, Jessica," Becky said.

  I glanced at Becky in surprise and offered a lame shrug. "Nothing to tell," I smiled. "I spent most of my summer working."

  "At the Starbucks, yes, we know that," Desiree commented. "We got that much from your Skypes and emails. But you couldn't have worked all the time."

  “No, I didn't work all the time," I admitted. "I did date one guy for a week or two, but he turned out to be a loser."

  "Why?" Selena asked.

  "After the first couple of dates, he started getting possessive. I certainly don't need to tell you that anyone who starts asking me what I do every day and what time I get home at night after only a few dates, is not someone you want to hang around with."

  They all agreed. "Besides, I spent most of my time out at the beach."

  "The beach?" Becky asked. "I didn't know there was a beach in Montana."

  I rolled my eyes. "You know that us landlubbers consider anything with sand near water a beach. Okay, let me rephrase. I spent most of my summer reading in the narrow strip of sandy dirt on the banks of the Yellowstone. Okay?"

  The girls laughed. "You and your hot, trashy romance novels," Desiree teased. "One of these days, you should just date one of your books."

  I laughed. "I should," I agreed. "But someday, I'm going to meet my dream date, just you watch," I swore, nodding at my own words. "He's going to have all the characteristics that I admire most in a man." I glanced at each of my friends. "My books may be fiction, but the characteristics of the man I'm looking for are found in most of those heroes."

  "I don't know," Selina said, shaking her head. "I have a feeling that you’re going to miss out on a lot of good guys if you keep comparing every one you meet to one of your romance heroes. Remember, Jessica, there's no such as a knight in shining armor. Every guy I've ever met has some warts."

  "That may be," I agreed. "But still, it's not going to keep me from trying."

  The girls and I spent another hour getting reacquainted before I decided it was time to go to my room. I had a lot of things to do. I had to bring up a few boxes that had been stored in the basement, unpack, verify my school schedule, and I needed to run a couple of errands, pick up a few staples, as well as supplies for classes, which would start next week.

  I bid the others goodnight and gave each of them a hug before I left and moved short distance down the opposite hallway toward my room. It was a small but comfortable room with a slanted ceiling and a dormer window that looked out over the tree-lined street below. The neighborhood was relatively quiet, although populated by a large number of college students. Many of the homes on the street were converted Victorians like this one, providing the students of the nearby university with convenient and affordable options for non-campus housing. I guess the tradition of converting the homes and renting out to students had been going on since the founding of the school in the 1960s.

  In my room, I sat down on my bed and pulled a yellow executive memo pad as well as my diary from the bedside table. First, I made a list of the things I would need to go get tomorrow morning, and then I turned to my diary. After I had written about my reunion with my sorority sisters, I decided I needed to make a list. The girls teasing me about dating one of my romance novels wasn't such a bad idea. Perhaps I should write down a list of the characteristics that I looked for, or I should look for, in the man of my dreams.

  I nibbled on the end of my pen for several moments and then decided. At the top of my list was “alpha male.” I wanted a guy that was strong, confident, and would provide me with a sense of protection or security. It wasn't that I felt like I needed a man to protect me, but I wanted to know that one could, if the situation ever came up.

  “Rich” was the second item on my list. I wasn't a snob or anything, but I would prefer a man who had some financial stability. I had spent years struggling to get by, and had watched my parents struggle for a long time to get by, and I wasn't particularly fond of the idea of living hand to mouth every day for the rest of my life.

  Next on my list, I wanted someone who “played a sport.” I wasn't sure if I wanted a football player or a baseball player, but I knew I didn't want a basketball player. Too tall and lanky. At the same time, I knew that Boston also provided a wide range of sporting activities from marathon runners to rowing competitors, down to polo and rugby players. So, I was undecided about the type of sport, but as long as he played sports, I was good with that.

  Next on my list came “womanizer,” though not to imply a cheater. That's not what I meant by womanizer. I guess I wanted a man who was attracted to other women and one who attracted other women; one who was handsome, charming, suave, and debonair. Like Cary Grant from the old black-and-white movies that I loved to watch on rainy days. I wanted someone who knew his way around women, not someone clumsy and inexperienced. At the same time, I didn't want the guy to be a stuck up jerk; that's not what I implied, either. I would know it when I saw it.

  Next on my list came “tattoos.” I don't know why, but I found tattoos incredibly sexy. Not prison-style gang tattoos or amateur tattoos, but exquisite, complicated, and beautiful tattoos done by skin artists. I didn't want a guy who was covered head to toe in tattoos, but a few certainly wouldn't hurt. They gave guys a kind of "bad guy" aura.

  Last on my list, my dream guy had to be a “good lover.” Not that I had much expe
rience to judge. It wasn't like I was a virgin, but I had only gone all the way with a guy a couple of times, once in my senior year of high school and once in my freshman year here at Boston U. Neither occasion had been what I would classify as pleasant or earth-shattering. That's why needed a guy who was experienced; one who was a good lover. I didn't want to deal with the fumblers, the inept, the ones who were so focused on pleasing themselves and getting off that they didn't even think of me.

  As I finished completing my list of desirable characteristics, I smiled. It was a challenging list, no doubt about it, but it couldn't be impossible to fulfill, could it?

  Chapter 2

  I was just as excited as the others about going to our preschool party. No, not pre-school, but preschool, as in just before the semester started. It was a good chance to catch up with old friends, party a little, and meet new people, although I wasn't too good at that. I could hear the others stomping around in their rooms, and in about five minutes we'd meet up on the landing. I took one last look at myself in the mirror, hoping I looked okay. A short skirt, not so short that the bottom of my butt cheeks showed, but short enough to offer a more than plentiful glimpse of my long legs. The dark blue pencil skirt was matched with a sapphire blue cap sleeve blouse, perfect for this still humid evenings of late August in Boston. On my feet I wore a pair of simple black flats.

  I had pulled my long, ash-brown hair into a high ponytail, and wore a pair of simple silhouette heart-shaped stud earrings and that was it. Very little makeup, as I didn't really like to wear makeup too often. A simple pinch of my cheeks and some clear lip gloss was my usual modus operandi.

  After one last glimpse, I decided that good enough was good enough. It wasn't like I was on the prowl tonight. Typically, I didn't make many new friends at school. In fact, it had taken me quite a while just to meet the ones I had, and I was so busy with schoolwork most of the time that I didn't have a lot of extra time to spend on developing relationships. Besides, the guys I had met so far here at college were not up to my standards. If I was going to take the time out of my studies to go out and pretend interest, I did want to be genuinely interested.