Read Online The One Who Got Away (An Alpha Billionaire Romance) by Ava Claire - Free Book Online

getting you whatever you want, but I’m not for sale. I didn’t care about that crap when we were together and let me assure you, I care even less about it now.”
    My final stand would have felt more...final...if that impassive, perfectly chiseled face of his would show some sign of being affected. If it had something on it other than that smile, those eyes glittering with happiness like he was content to just be with me again.
    “We’re not together!” I exclaimed, wildly shoving him. Not enough to knock him over, that wouldn’t have been possible considering he looked and felt like he spent quite a bit of time lifting weights. He was solid and beautiful and frustrating as hell.
    “Stop looking at me like that!”
    He cocked his head, something other than sex flickering across his face. “Like what?”
    “Like you give a damn,” I pouted, almost wishing Ashton would pop her head out of the bar and save me. She’d be the pit bull I should be right now and maul him.
    The wind lifted my mess of hair and spun it like crazy. That was the cherry on top, to stand in front of some living model of male perfection while I looked like a hot mess. I pawed at my hair, trying to pull it behind my ears. He caught one of the tendrils and my world paused. He fondled the dirty blonde strand, then gently swept it behind my ear. His fingertip stroked the line of my chin before he jerked back like I had a few moments ago.
    “I’m sorry,” he murmured, and he didn’t look at me when he said it. Lincoln Carraway was 6’2 of peevishness and handsomeness.
    His gray eyes finally glinted at me and my world picked up where it left off and then some, everything upside down and whirling like a carousel spinning off kilter.
    “I do give a damn,” he said softly.
    A whisper.
    A promise.
    He wasn’t giving up.
    I watched him go and ignored the fact that a smile was definitely trying to work its way across my face.

Chapter Five
    I fiddled with my ID badge as I cruised onto Poole Road, pointed toward Morgan Elementary. Rosa had greeted me a few hours ago, her smile a little cautious but still megawatt. It was pretty clear that she was filled with questions like, who was I that I could talk to Lincoln Carraway like he was little more that gum on the bottom of my shoes and live to tell the tale? When I’d just signed the new employee paperwork and flashed a tight, pained grin for my badge photo, she got the hint and bygones were bygones. I had a week to get settled and wade into the Backpacks for Change program, but I’d never been one to wade into anything. Program materials tucked in my red leather briefcase and destination punched in my phone, Siri guided me to the first school on the agenda.
    I kicked the gearshift to park and turned off my car. I gently eased the visor down, carefully opening the weary flap to reveal a mirror that had splintered years ago but by some magic, hadn’t rained shards of glass on me. I found a sliver and gave my face a once over. Except for some mascara and concealer to hide my late night, I was makeup free. I reached for my purse in the backseat. I smoothed the Neutrogena gloss over my lips and rubbed them together. Just that tiny motion reminded me of Lincoln’s departure last night. I’d nailed my feet to the ground, forbidding myself from running after him, snatching him to me, and kissing his lips right off his face. Instead, I watched him climb into his ridiculous Escalade, glittering rims and all, and followed his exit from the lot. I’d proceeded to go back into the bar, only to find that Ashton hadn’t missed me at all. She was engrossed in a conversation with Josh about whether Breaking Bad or The Sopranos was the most badass show ever. I’d unknowingly signed up to be a third wheel, which meant that the one drink plan became the ‘Drink until somebody cut me off’ plan.
    Unsurprisingly, I woke up with craters beneath my eyes and a headache the size of Alaska. Surprisingly, it was nothing