Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 89878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
“And apparently, it was the right decision. Does your dad not approve of me being here?”
He scoffs. “Who cares what he—”
“Me. I do. I don’t want to disrespect him, and he seemed pretty mad when he saw us in bed this morning.”
His hands clench around the steering wheel. “He can fuck off. He has no say in what I do.”
“And me? Am I just supposed to rebel like you seem to want to?”
Noah exhales. “Georgia, it doesn’t matter. He’s suddenly trying to act like a parent when he’s just the guy who pays my tuition. And what does it matter to you? After this is over, we’ll go back to school and go our separate ways.”
Guilt tightens my chest at the hurt in his tone, but he’s not innocent in all this.
“I know you’re mad at me, but—”
“Mad? Why the fuck would I be mad my girl broke up with me? You couldn’t have done this before we committed to spending the whole summer together? When I find summer pussy to replace you since you’re too busy being a selfish bitch, you gonna pretend you still don’t want me?”
I hiss at his words. There he is—the real Noah Blake. “Fuck you.”
“Can’t do that anymore, babe. You’re not my girlfriend.”
As soon as he puts the car in park, I jump out and take a deep breath, hoping to calm myself, but the summer heat only makes it worse.
“Where are you going?”
“Away from you,” I say, walking through the parking lot.
“You’re going the wrong way. The office is right here.”
Shoot.
I turn around and, with no other choice, trail behind Noah into the towering high-rise. The sleek glass doors swallow us into the polished lobby, a stark reminder of the world we’re stepping into.
When I googled the company we’re going to be interning for, I discovered Noah’s father, Jackson Blake—founder and CEO of Blake Industries—runs one of the largest raw material distribution companies in the industry. I was just as impressed as I was intimidated.
Noah pushes through the large glass doors and waves at the receptionist. “Welcome home, Noah. Heard you’re with us for the next three months.”
“Sure am, Rachel. If you’re lucky, I’ll make time for you to treat me to lunch.” He winks at her, and her smile drops as she notices me.
“You must be Miss Price.” I nod, offering a tight smile. “You both can head back. Your father is waiting.”
“Thanks, Rach.” Noah walks off, not bothering to wait for me. I follow, stopping behind him as he sticks his head through the open door that leads into a large office. “He’s on a call. We can go in and wait.” Noah walks in and flops down on the leather couch. I move to take a seat next to him, but he stretches his legs across the space, making it clear there’s no room for me. Asshole. I give him a dismissive glare before taking the empty chair in front of Mr. Blake’s desk. His brows are furrowed, his pen tapping against the top of his large mahogany desk. I feel out of place. Sitting on the floor seems like a less uncomfortable option.
I look over my shoulder to see Noah, his head down, scrolling through his phone. When I turn back, I catch his father staring at me. A shiver runs down my spine, and goosebumps appear on my arms. His eyes drop, and I realize my skirt hiked up my thighs when I sat down. I adjust the hem and cross my legs, revealing a hint of inner thigh. The tapping stops. His hand freezes, clenching the pen as his gaze lingers on my thighs. I thought last night had been a mistake, had even wondered if he’d remember. But the way he drank me in when I stepped into the kitchen, that wink, now…
You’re playing with fire, Georgia.
I pull my skirt down, shaking my head. I must be losing it. Hitting on Noah’s father? Jesus, Georgia, get it together. I stand and excuse myself to the restroom. Once inside, I turn on the cold water and press my wrists beneath the stream, the chill shocking me back to the present. I reach for a paper towel and dry my hands before checking my reflection. My cheeks are flushed, my eyes a little too wide. I smooth down my hair, adjust my blouse, and square my shoulders, forcing a deep inhale.
“You’re fine. Get it together,” I murmur to myself, blinking away any lingering doubt. With one last steady breath, I straighten and step out, my mask firmly in place. Reaching the open door of the office, Noah and Mr. Blake are arguing, their voices low but tense, words clipped and angry. Noah’s jaw is tight, his hands curling into fists at his sides. Mr. Blake leans in slightly over him, his expression cold and unwavering. Their hushed tones don’t soften the intensity between them.