Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 37055 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 185(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 124(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37055 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 185(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 124(@300wpm)
“Hopefully the best one you got.”
“Maybe.” I lean back against the washing machine and fold my arms. “What are your plans for the summer?”
“You weren’t the only one who graduated, big boy. So real life awaits me in Boston.”
I pull back. “No shit? That’s the same for me. Do you think … I mean, should we, like, exchange numbers or something?”
Tyson finishes cleaning himself and the floor up, and then zips his pants. “That’s sweet but totally unnecessary. Don’t think you need to reach out or be nice or anything after that. I know what that was, and it’s okay.”
“What was it?”
“College shit, right? Your last chance to do something stupid.”
I’d say that was anything but stupid. Though I do feel guilty because that’s the exact reason I did do it.
“Don’t look so worried. It’s seriously cool. We’re cool.” Tyson touches my arm as he goes to leave. When he gets to the door, I feel like I need to say something.
“Maybe I’ll see you in Boston.”
Tyson licks his lips. “Only if I’m lucky.”
Chapter 3
TYSON
Most people’s first impression of me is someone flighty and fun, not a serious bone in my body.
That’s mostly true. It’s definitely how I prefer to be known.
But I’m also a numbers guy, and this next step in my life gives me the opportunity to evolve again. It’s my chrysalis moment. Except instead of the butterfly I’m naturally inclined to become, my reflection this morning looks more like a moth.
Boring navy suit, periwinkle-blue shirt. At the last moment, I switch out my white tie for a pastel pink one.
Too much change is bad for your health and all that.
I’m freshly shaved, my hair trimmed and neatly pushed back in my usual high pompadour, and I’m ready to enter the world of finance.
I’m still not sure how Seth heard about this internship since it wasn’t advertised, but damn am I grateful he did. Callaghan and Robson is one of the biggest financial advising companies in Massachusetts with a lot of impressive clientele. Somehow I impressed the stuffy HR lady enough to score one of three internships, and I’m determined to slay this opportunity.
When I pick up a coffee on the way, I even drink that sucker through a straw to prevent spills.
I’ve been at Callaghan and Robson offices once before for my interview, but seeing it again takes my breath away. I’m not someone who gets intimidated often, yet looking up at the towering glass-and-metal structure sends nerves skittering through my gut.
No time like the present.
I give my name at reception, and they call up for my babysitter to come retrieve me. The woman introduces herself as Carla and tells me she was an intern last year who was offered a permanent position with the company. She seems nice enough, and as she leads me to the elevator bank, my gaze immediately drops to her ass.
No, bad, Tyson.
The second I’ve done it, I know it’s inappropriate, but my dick still wants to object. It’s only been two weeks, but since I’ve been home, I haven’t hooked up with anyone. And even before that, with my hottie hockey player, I was the one doing all the touching.
Normally that memory would hold a twinge of disappointment, but my only regret is not taking him up on the offer for his number.
It was the smart choice. It was only to be polite, and he never would have texted me.
It’s hard to remember that when my dick is in my hand and his name is on my lips … I shake it off with the reminder that I can jerk off over him all I like tonight.
The elevator opens on the thirty-fourth floor, and I follow Carla through a large, sleek foyer to a side room where she takes the photo for my pass. Then I’m led to a small meeting room and told to wait there.
Sit, stay, come … No, don’t think about coming.
But, fuck, I’m like a trained animal.
Better get used to being the shitkicker intern if I want a permanent role here.
I pop the button on my suit jacket before taking a seat. There’s a jug of water in the middle of the table that I help myself to in an attempt to curb how dry my mouth is, and then I sit and wait.
The meeting rooms are all glass, giving me a view out into the halls, and I watch the parades of important-looking people pass on the way to who knows where. Even though I’m intimidated as hell and desperately begging my body not to launch into a dry sweat, it’s also exciting to be here. I have the chance to witness how the world of finance works.
Another cluster of people approaches, and I quickly straighten, playing the part of good boy lap dog. I’m sure I look exactly as pathetic as that to the people walking past, but we all have to start somewhere.