The Intern: Enemies To Lovers

64



But I held in my breath instead, working the anger through my body so it wouldn’t erupt. “I’ll meet you at your place tonight. I’ll be there whenever I’m able to drag my ass out of this office.” I attempted to lighten my tone as I added, “Now, I’d be really grateful if you could grab me a coffee.”

“This will be your fourth today.”

When I got to her place, I wanted nothing more than to tie her wrists to her headboard. To tie her ankles to her bedframe and keep her legs spread far apart.

To make her scream so fucking loud that we would worry her neighbors might call the police.

But tonight was about talking.

And I had no idea what that was going to look like or what the results would be.

“I know.” My head dropped, and I stared at my hands again, my thumbs rubbing together as I continued, “And, Hannah, please keep the coffee coming. I’m going to need a hell of a lot more.”

TWENTY-TWO

HANNAHContent © copyrighted by NôvelDrama.Org.

A

mix of emotions was bolting through me as I waited for Declan to show up at my apartment after work. I’d even poured myself a glass of wine to help settle my nerves. Something had set him off today at the office, and he wouldn’t tell me what it was, but he was reverting to his old ways.

Shutting me out.

Shutting down.

Fueling himself with endless coffee to … fight?

I didn’t know, but I couldn’t imagine what he wanted to talk to me about.

Things had been going so well.

Too well maybe?

I weighed every possibility as I paced my apartment.

At first, I wondered if he was going to ask if we could continue keeping us a secret. I had no problem with that. I hadn’t asked him to air our relationship; I hadn’t tried to persuade him to speak to my cousins. Time wasn’t something we were running out of, so I had no issue with the way things stood.

In fact, things had just started to feel normal between us-a description I could never use before when referring to our relationship. The push and pull had been so rapid, so intense, that I had whiplash for a long time. But since Jackson Hole, I’d found myself loving him much more often than hating him.

Love.

A word that frequently came to my mind as we spent more time together.

A word I’d never said to another man.

A word that I could see myself saying to him.

But maybe he couldn’t. Maybe that was something he was having a hard time dealing with.

Or maybe he had concerns about the next several months, post-graduation, when I’d be studying for the bar and not able to hang out nearly as much.

I had no idea. I couldn’t even make a prediction.

So, I sipped my wine, and I tried to control my brain from spiraling. I waited until the tablet by the door buzzed, a notification from our doorman letting me know Declan had arrived. I gave him enough time to make it up the elevator and down the hallway before I opened the door.

He was just approaching, looking as hard and irritated as he had at the office. His tie was loosened a bit at his throat, and the gel had worn off in his hair-probably from how many times he’d run his hands through his locks.

This wasn’t the first time he’d been to my apartment.

But this time felt different than the others.

I sucked in a breath. “Hi.”

“Hannah …”

He leaned down to kiss me.

It was soft.

Short.

But enough.

“Do you want a drink?”

He nodded, and while he walked in, I went to the kitchen and grabbed a beer, taking off the cap before I met him in the living room. He was already sitting on the couch when I handed him the bottle. He took a sip and then held the beer between his legs.

I curled up in the chair across from him, wanting to give him space to speak. “Talk to me.”

He gradually looked up, not immediately answering. “There’s something I’ve wanted to tell you for a while.”

I still had no idea where this was going.

But I saw emotion in his eyes.

I saw fight.

“I should have told you this from the beginning.” He set the beer on the floor, and he folded his hands together. They didn’t last there, almost instantly unclasping, and they dived into the sides of his hair. “Fuck, I’ve been putting this off for too long. I need to tell you the truth.”

I shook my head, trying to make sense of this. “About what?”

“The night we met.”

I repeated his statement out loud, and when the last syllable left my lips, my hands started to shake.

The alley.

The lie.

It was staring me right in the face.

I set down my wine on the small table beside me. “Declan-”

“When you came into my office on the first day of your internship, we briefly spoke about the night at the bar, and you asked me if you did anything inappropriate. I wasn’t honest with you, Hannah. I should have been.” His eyes were pleading with mine. “Fuck, I should have been. I didn’t want to lie to you … but I did.”

My heart began to pound.

The knot in my throat was moving into my chest. I couldn’t stop it; I couldn’t slow it down.

I knew exactly what he was going to say, and the anxiety was paralyzing me.

“Declan-”

“No, I need to get this out.” He stood, bringing the beer with him, and he walked over to the windows just to the left of me, leaning his back against the ledge.

“We were flirting with each other at the bar. I swear, you were giving me every sign that you wanted something to happen between us. Damn it, I could even feel the fire coming off your body.” He lifted his beer to his mouth but looked at the rim and lowered it.


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