Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 93785 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93785 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Fucking tears again.
“We’re ready and willing to renegotiate your contract next week,” Mr. Johnson says. “You’ll be properly compensated in accordance with the move.”
Drake chuckles, shaking his head. “Money is not an issue for me. Have you ever looked up my contracts from when I played pro ball?”
My jaw drops. I haven’t thought of that. How much money does he have?
Drake laughs at the look on my face.
“I’m tendering my resignation, effective immediately,” he says. “You can send any communications for either of us, me or Miss Bardot, to my attorney.”
I drop my pen and paper and race around the table. Drake catches me as I fling myself into his arms in front of everyone. He’s never held me tighter.
“I’m sorry,” I say, whispering in his ear. “You have no idea how sorry I am.”
He presses a kiss to the side of my face. “You have nothing to be sorry for. Just promise it’s out of your system because I can’t do this again.”
I half laugh, half sob as I hold his face in my hands. I stare into his beautiful blue eyes. “I love you, Drake.”
He presses a soft kiss to my lips, then smiles. “I know.”
Our fingers lace together as the security team from downstairs arrives to lead us out of the building.
CHAPTER
THIRTY-SIX
Gianna
“You can’t expect tea in the kitchen all the time,” I say as Drake slides his SUV into my driveway. “And I’m not a good housekeeper. And my art is everywhere and—”
“And you need to stop apologizing.”
A warmth that I haven’t felt in days spreads through me like a river. Watching Drake jump out of the vehicle like it’s on fire and jog to my door feels like Christmas. Climbing out and into his arms is … right.
“I’ve missed this,” I say, tucking into his side as we walk into my house.
Drake snorts, then starts laughing at the sight of my foyer. “And I’ve missed this.”
Disarray doesn’t begin to describe the scene in front of us. It’s reminiscent of the aftermath of a burglary or if a bunch of raccoons were locked in a house for three days.
“Not my proudest moment,” I say over his laughter. “But, also, I was heartbroken, okay? Sure, I did it to myself, but a broken heart doesn’t care who did the breaking.”
“All you had to do was call me, and I would have been here to fix it.”
Our lips crash together. My body goes limp against his. He’s intoxicating and amazing … and mine.
Finally, I pull away and gaze into his eyes. “You really quit Canoodle? That just happened, right?”
“Fuck ’em.”
“Drake,” I say, laughing. “That was your job.”
He puts his mouth against mine and whispers, “I’m rich, you know.”
“No, I didn’t know.” I shove him away, giggling. “And I don’t wanna know.”
“Why not?”
“It’s awkward.”
He chuckles. “It’s hard to be with me for my money since you didn’t know I had any.” His chuckle turns into laughter, and his eyes sparkle happily. “Did you think I played football for free? Or did you think I was terrible at managing money?”
“I didn’t think about it, actually.” I shrug. “Why were you working at Canoodle if you don’t need the money?”
“Idle hands are the devil’s playthings.”
My grin turns mischievous as I pull my shirt off and fling it into the kitchen. Drake smiles, amused, as he removes his, too.
“I feel like I need a tetanus shot to be in here,” he says, removing his pants as I shove mine down my legs.
“Shut up and kiss me.”
He grabs the back of my neck and yanks me into him. The feeling of his body against mine puts back all the pieces of my broken heart.
“How do you want to do this?” he asks, licking his lips.
“You choose this time, and I’ll pick next. I just want you inside me.”
He grins. “While I love the way you think, I was thinking more like us. How do you want to do us?”
I play with the back of his hair while he kisses down the side of my neck. “I don’t know. But my art stuff won’t fit into your apartment and—hey,” I say, pulling back. “Why do you live in an apartment if you’re so rich?”
He chuckles against my shoulder.
“Anyway,” I say, not really needing an answer. It just proves my point that he wasn’t exactly flashing signs of extreme wealth in my face. “I don’t want to spend another night without you, so you’re welcome to move into the Goal House if you want.” I snicker. “Good thing you’re rich. You can hire a housekeeper.”
He laughs, picking me up and carrying me into the living room.
We stop next to my easel. He takes in the angry blacks, blues, and greens with swirls of pink and light blue. Something about it makes him smile.
“What?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “Think you could teach me to paint?”