Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 128156 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128156 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
On the outside, it looks like I've got it all together. I'm killing it on the football field, pushing harder than ever before and breaking league records.
But on the inside, I'm a mess, the pressure of the game too much, the betrayal from someone I trusted weighing me down with every breath.
I'm drowning and there's no one to pull me up.
Until her.
I tried to stay away, to keep my distance so I wouldn't ruin us both, but I was powerless against her.
She's everything I didn't know I wanted and more than I could ever deserve.
That right there is how I knew I couldn't keep her, but that didn't stop me from falling in love with her.
Just when I think maybe I'm becoming the man I want to be, my world comes crashing down around me, and I'm faced with a choice that has the power to break us both.
Suddenly, I'm right back where I started.
I'm the guy with nothing to give―and she's the girl who deserves the world
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
CHAPTER ONE
Paige
“It’s quite simple, really.”
I stare across the long wooden table at the man on the other end of it—because sitting twenty feet away from me makes sense when we’re “in a meeting”—and he’s looking at me like I’m an incompetent little lamb he has to dumb himself down to speak to. I’m not.
I was the valedictorian of my high school and I’m going to graduate from college at the end of this year with a perfect GPA. He should know this. After all, he ran a background check, paid someone somewhere for access to all my personal records, and that was before he even made himself known to me.
This man, he’s what people call old money. There hasn’t been a day in his life when he didn’t have more than a person could ever need in their lifetime. I know because, like him, as soon as I found out who he was, I did my own research.
Of course, mine consisted of social media stalking and a few dozen Google searches, but it was all right there in big, bold letters: Billionaire and CEO Grant Randolph V rumored to retire, but to whom will he leave his legacy?
That was the headline that came up the very first time I took to the internet in an attempt to learn a thing or two about the man who claimed he was my grandfather. The grandfather whom I had no idea existed until a little over a year ago.
I stare into his blue eyes—eyes that mirror my own down to the golden line curving around our pupils. I’d always known that I had my mother’s eyes. I guess I never thought deep enough to wonder where hers came from, but now I know.
It’s funny, when you have all you need in a parent, you never really stop to wonder what the other one might have brought to the table had they been there. Apparently, the answer is an obscene amount of money and unrealistic expectations.
What did he say? Oh yeah, he called this simple.
“I’m sorry, but I’m not so sure I agree.” I don’t agree. At all, but I have a feeling saying as much, and so directly, would be an error on my part. This man requires the sharpest of eggshells beneath your feet, and I learned that the very first day we met.
He looks at me with frustration, and maybe a little annoyance. “Which part of what I’m offering is confusing to you?”
“‘Confusing’ isn’t exactly the word I would use.”
“And what word would you use?”
“I don’t know…excessive?”
A low laugh comes from the man in the corner of the room, who has yet to introduce himself. For the first time, the man in the suit’s eyes lift from his laptop screen, locking with mine, and I hold my breath, unsure of what to expect to come out his mouth.
He’s…very handsome. Perfect teeth, chocolaty-brown hair, and bone structure even Cillian Murphy could appreciate. He smiles and it’s a little unnerving to have it pointed at me. Me in my leggings and baggy T-shirt and messy braid because Grant insisted I come here straight from my lesson at the local youth center.
“I think maybe the word you’re looking for is old-fashioned.” His lips curve higher as he glances toward my grandfather. “Isn’t that right, old man?”
“All right, fine.” Grant chuckles as he sits back in his seat, folding his fingers together and resting them on his stomach. “I’ll introduce you to my lovely granddaughter, whom you’ve been asking me about for weeks.”
“Weeks. Months. Who’s counting?” The man grins, closing his computer.
“You, apparently. Paige, meet Prescott. He’s the man of the hour around here. Keeps me in line among other things. Prescott, this is my lovely granddaughter, Paige.”
I wince, standing when he approaches with an outstretched hand. “Not so lovely at the moment, but Mr. Randolph—”
“Paige,” Grant chastises.
My cheeks flush a little. “But my…grandfather insisted I come here straight from work.”
“As he did me.”
I laugh lightly, looking over his perfectly tailored, deep-mahogany three-piece suit. “Right.”
“It’s nice to finally meet you, Paige.” His brown eyes hold mine. “I look forward to you schooling your grandfather on his excessive ways.”
“Easy, son. If you give us a few minutes,” Grant tells Prescott, and without another look, he heads out of the room—a massive conference room in the cliffside coastal home he’s apparently just converted into a satellite office here in Oceanside, making this the second piece of real estate he’s purchased based on where I live, the first being a large home just nine miles from Avix University.
I’m not sure if I should be honored or concerned.
“Paige, sweetheart.” The way he says sweetheart is more condescending than a term of endearment. Not that he’s endeared to me.
I’m pretty sure I am a representation of his biggest aversions—artistic, lower class, single. It’s not his fault, really. We just come from different worlds.