Page 18 of Sinful Abandon

Don’t they all?

Max is a junior at Loyola. This is his fourth internship in two years. He’s obviously the overachiever in the group. And, Zahara, from some school I’ve never heard of, is just super excited to be here.

I click on an email and answer it.

“Last but not least, who are you?” Jarrod asks, clearly as interested in getting this meeting over with as I am.

“Ryan. I’m a senior at Northeastern.”

I must have had too much tea this morning because my heart rate speeds up.

There’s an awkward pause, which I appreciate, because I can answer this email in silence.

“Do you have a last name?” Jarrod asks.

This guy must be nervous as hell. I click Send and tap on the next email to answer it.

“Pierson. My name is Ryan Pierson.”

My thumb stops moving. I don’t want to look up. I can’t because, deep down, I know that the Ryan Pierson standing on the other side of the room is the same man who I wore a lavender dress for.

When I venture the nerve to look up, my heart drops. Standing in a white shirt and navy pants, wearing a tie that looks like his mom bought it for him, is my Ryan. He’s looking straight at Jarrod.

“You’re a strong-looking lad. Football?” Jarrod asks.

Of all the people to take an interest in, he chooses Ryan?

“Yes, sir. Achilles injury ended my season. Don’t think I’ll be playing out the last year.”

I hate that he called Jarrod sir.

“Sports journalism is your game then,” Jarrod says. “You know, we don’t cover sports on this show.”

“I was late to the internship process. You were my only choice.”

I turn to Jarrod, expecting him to be insulted by Ryan’s words.

Instead, he laughs and rises from the table. Pointing to Ryan, he says, “I like you, kid.” To everyone else, he says, “That’s all for today.”

Jarrod walks out of the room, and everyone files out.

Including me.

Hauling ass, I fumble in the hallway when I see Ryan behind me.

An intern?

College?

Oh God, does this mean I slept with a teenager?

I falter on my heels, hooking a right down the hallway, and dart into a darkened room, slamming the door behind me. As soon as my back hits the wall, I cringe at the thought that I just slammed myself into the copy room.

I can’t believe my luck. For the first time in forever, I actually feel something for someone, and he turns out to be the freaking intern. And, to imagine, I refused a million-dollar proposal for someone who probably still lives with his mom.

I think I’m going to be sick.

“Heather, I know you’re in there.” Ryan’s voice echoes from the other side of the door.