Read Online The Intern: Vol. 3 by Brooke Cumberland - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Brooke Cumberland
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physically catch them in the act—which won’t be something I willingly want to see.
We end up stuck in traffic and end up being fifteen minutes late. “Shit, I hate being late.”
“ Let’s just not go in,” I offer. “I’m sure we’re not allowed to come in late anyway.”
“ Fuck that. I paid for us to join this class.” She shuts the engine off and grabs her bag. “We’re going. Let’s go.”
I reluctantly follow her inside. She slowly opens the door to the studio, but I don’t catch it in time and it slams shut.
I close my eyes, embarrassed. Shit .
Cora announces our apologies and grabs my hand to lead me to the back row. “C’mon, we can hide back here.”
I take the very end spot in the last row, hoping to keep eyes off me. I have no idea what I ’m doing and am still pissed Cora dragged me here.
I don ’t notice him right away. In fact, it’s not until I hear his voice that I instantly recognize him. I angle my head toward the front where he’s standing and see him—all six feet plus, messy golden locks of him. He’s barely changed in two years, yet he looks different. He’s definitely more buff, which seems hardly possible considering how built he was back then. However, he’s obviously been working out more and paying more attention to his physique for his modeling career. And the eighteen-year-old girl from two years ago is still very affected by him. My body responds to him the same, my heart—still shattered and ashamed.
I try my best to stay out of his view until I can successfully bail and never return. I can ’t tell Cora because if I tell her now, she’ll definitely make a scene. I finally broke down last summer and told her the whole truth about Bentley and Leighton Enterprises. I told her everything I knew about my dad and the lock box that I’ll be allowed to open next year. But she doesn’t need to know that our new kickboxing instructor is the Bentley .
About midway through the class, my nerves get the best of me, and I almost tell Cora we need to leave. Instead, she leans over and whispers, “He looks really familiar.”
Shit. Of course. Bentley ’s face is fucking everywhere. Now do I tell her? Or just suffer through the class until it’s over and never return?
I ’m almost in the clear with ten minutes left of class before he begins walking toward the back. I turn my body away from him in hopes he doesn’t come this way. I pretend to be working on my punches and kicks when I feel him behind me.
His voice. God, his voice fucking ruins me. I immediately tense up at the sound of his coarse tone. It’s the same tone he’s used many times when we were in bed together—his domineering tone. It’s sexy as hell, and it use to soak my panties every time I’d hear it, and, unfortunately, this time is no different.
My body tenses the moment I feel his hand against me. Does he know it ’s me? Did he recognize me and was now slowly torturing me?
My breath hitches for the hundredth time when I feel his thumb rub against my scar. Oh, god.
I expect him to make a scene or even yell at me to get out of his gym, but he doesn ’t. I soon realize the entire class is staring at us. His thumb rubs against my shoulder once more before he backs away and begins walking to the front of the class again. My body screams at the loss of his touch.
Fuck me.
“Uh, great session, everyone. I’ll see you all Thursday.” His voice is anxious, and I know I have to get the hell out of there— fast .
Everyone begins packing their things and swinging their bags over their shoulders. Cora is immediately to my side with her mouth agape.
“Holy fucking hotness! What the hell was that?” she asks half-shocked and half-amused. “I wonder if he has a twin.” She cocks her head as she continues staring at him. He’s surrounded by girls who are all chatting him up, flirting I’m sure, with the infamous Bentley Leighton.
“ He doesn’t,” I answer without thinking. “I mean,
We end up stuck in traffic and end up being fifteen minutes late. “Shit, I hate being late.”
“ Let’s just not go in,” I offer. “I’m sure we’re not allowed to come in late anyway.”
“ Fuck that. I paid for us to join this class.” She shuts the engine off and grabs her bag. “We’re going. Let’s go.”
I reluctantly follow her inside. She slowly opens the door to the studio, but I don’t catch it in time and it slams shut.
I close my eyes, embarrassed. Shit .
Cora announces our apologies and grabs my hand to lead me to the back row. “C’mon, we can hide back here.”
I take the very end spot in the last row, hoping to keep eyes off me. I have no idea what I ’m doing and am still pissed Cora dragged me here.
I don ’t notice him right away. In fact, it’s not until I hear his voice that I instantly recognize him. I angle my head toward the front where he’s standing and see him—all six feet plus, messy golden locks of him. He’s barely changed in two years, yet he looks different. He’s definitely more buff, which seems hardly possible considering how built he was back then. However, he’s obviously been working out more and paying more attention to his physique for his modeling career. And the eighteen-year-old girl from two years ago is still very affected by him. My body responds to him the same, my heart—still shattered and ashamed.
I try my best to stay out of his view until I can successfully bail and never return. I can ’t tell Cora because if I tell her now, she’ll definitely make a scene. I finally broke down last summer and told her the whole truth about Bentley and Leighton Enterprises. I told her everything I knew about my dad and the lock box that I’ll be allowed to open next year. But she doesn’t need to know that our new kickboxing instructor is the Bentley .
About midway through the class, my nerves get the best of me, and I almost tell Cora we need to leave. Instead, she leans over and whispers, “He looks really familiar.”
Shit. Of course. Bentley ’s face is fucking everywhere. Now do I tell her? Or just suffer through the class until it’s over and never return?
I ’m almost in the clear with ten minutes left of class before he begins walking toward the back. I turn my body away from him in hopes he doesn’t come this way. I pretend to be working on my punches and kicks when I feel him behind me.
His voice. God, his voice fucking ruins me. I immediately tense up at the sound of his coarse tone. It’s the same tone he’s used many times when we were in bed together—his domineering tone. It’s sexy as hell, and it use to soak my panties every time I’d hear it, and, unfortunately, this time is no different.
My body tenses the moment I feel his hand against me. Does he know it ’s me? Did he recognize me and was now slowly torturing me?
My breath hitches for the hundredth time when I feel his thumb rub against my scar. Oh, god.
I expect him to make a scene or even yell at me to get out of his gym, but he doesn ’t. I soon realize the entire class is staring at us. His thumb rubs against my shoulder once more before he backs away and begins walking to the front of the class again. My body screams at the loss of his touch.
Fuck me.
“Uh, great session, everyone. I’ll see you all Thursday.” His voice is anxious, and I know I have to get the hell out of there— fast .
Everyone begins packing their things and swinging their bags over their shoulders. Cora is immediately to my side with her mouth agape.
“Holy fucking hotness! What the hell was that?” she asks half-shocked and half-amused. “I wonder if he has a twin.” She cocks her head as she continues staring at him. He’s surrounded by girls who are all chatting him up, flirting I’m sure, with the infamous Bentley Leighton.
“ He doesn’t,” I answer without thinking. “I mean,
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