The Intern Serials: Complete Box Set

by Brooke Cumberland

  His hands grip around my face so fast, I don’t even see him leaning in. His mouth is on mine before I even have time to register it. My palms lay flat against his chest as he holds me, cupping my cheeks with his strong hands.

  I moan and pant against his mouth as he strokes his tongue with mine—thirst and desire taking complete control. His mouth consumes me, holding me tightly against him as he takes me. I inhale his scent as one of his hands grip the back of my neck and the other hand slides down to my hip, holding me firmly in place.

  It’s just as I remembered. His lips are fucking heaven and nothing ever compares to the way he kisses me. Feelings rush through me harder than the rain pouring down on us, and I realize I need to make him stop.

  I push against his chest, breaking the heated kiss. He looks down at me curiously, and then his eyes widen as he realizes what we just did.

  “God, I’m sorry.” He releases me and brushes a hand through his soaked hair. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

  I don’t know if it’s because he regrets kissing me, or the way he’s looking at me right now that hurts the most. It guts me completely as I see the mixed emotions in his eyes.

  “I should’ve called,” he says, taking me off guard. “But I was a coward. I wanted to forget, but I was a fool because I could never forget, Ceci. I can’t forget.”

  A sob reluctantly releases deep within my chest. The last thing I want to do is cry in front of him, but what’s it matter anymore. This whole situation is fucked up.

  I look up at him and we lock eyes when I finally say, “You’re too late.”

  “What?” he gasps, training his eyes on me still.

  “You weren’t late back then,” I clarify. “But you’re too late now.”

  I spin around and begin walking toward the house. I’m soaking wet and freezing, but I don’t even care. I just want to feel numb.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Bentley

  GODAMMIT. I’M AN idiot.

  Why did I fucking tell her all that? She’s drunk, and I’m a damn fool for thinking I had any claim on her.

  “You weren’t late back then. But you’re too late now.”

  Did that mean she had moved on and was with someone else or that she didn’t want me at all? From the way that her body reacted to me—the same way it did two years ago—I refuse to think she can easily ignore that. There’s no way she can deny it.

  I’ve been battling my feelings for two years. It’s exhausting, and no matter how much I tell myself to move on—to forget her—I can’t. I never will.

  Watching her in class for the past month has been pure torture. Not talking to her and barely making eye contact with her has been worse than trying to forget her. At least then, I didn’t have to look at her and watch her perfect little body moving and bouncing around during class. I could at least pretend my feelings were non-existent and that I was just a pussy for not being able to get over her.

  But I’m tired of being that person. I’m going to make her see that giving in is much easier than fighting the inevitable. Giving in is what we both want.

  My mind is made up, and I’m not going to take no for an answer. Unless she’s sporting a diamond ring, nothing’s going to stop me from making sure she knows exactly what I want and how I feel.

  * * *

  I watch her walk in Monday evening with Cora. She keeps her eyes down as she makes her way to the back of the room. I grin selfishly as I walk toward her.

  “Where is everyone?” Cora asks, looking up at me as I step in front of Ceci. They’re sitting on the floor, changing their shoes out and realizing the room is completely empty except for the three of us.

  “Class got pushed back to six-thirty,” I state. Ceci finally jerks her head up, staring at me suspiciously. “I sent an email out.”

  Cora looks at her phone, checking her email for the message she won’t find. “I didn’t get one.” She narrows her eyebrows before looking back up at me. She smirks, obviously understanding the silent plea I’m sending her.

  I never sent her an email.

  “Well, since we have a half hour, I’m going to go grab a protein smoothie.” She uncrosses her legs and stands up to walk out.

  Ceci goes to stand up and blurts out, “I’ll come with you.”

  “No, stay and watch our stuff,” she blurts, rushing away before Ceci can protest.

  She stands up and faces me chest-to-chest. She crosses her arms, scowling up at me. “What are you doing?”

  I flash a confused expression. “As in general?” I raise brow, making her steam even more.

  “As in this.“ She waves her hands in between us.

  “I just wanted a few minutes alone to talk to you,” I admit. “I want to apologize,” I clarify. “I’m sorry for how I acted last weekend. It was inappropriate.” She continues staring at me, not saying a word. Her expression reads that she doesn’t believe me. She shouldn’t…but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to try to convince her of it. “We can be friends, right? I mean, I’m going to be your instructor for another two months.”

  “Friends?” She narrows her brows, still scowling at me.

  “Yeah, it’s when two people talk casually. Maybe hang out. Strictly platonic.”

  “I know what being friends is, asshole. But I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  I slap a hand to my chest as if I’m offended by her dismissal. “All right. Have it your way.” I smirk. “You always did prefer the subordinate role.”

  “Excuse me? What did you just say to me, Bentley?”

  “It’s actually, Mr. Leighton,” I taunt. I wink at her, causing her anger to fuel even more.

  Oh, yes, this will be fun. If she doesn’t want to admit that she wants to be more than friends, I’ll just have to make her realize it on her own.

  I purposely avoid eye contact with her as I go over more lessons. I walk around the classroom like normal, but don’t step in to help her. Instead, I yell at her for slacking and tell her to try again.

  She glares at me, dropping her arms to her sides. “If you need extra help, Miss West, you’re welcome to come to the front of the room. It’s a much better view.” I smirk at her.

  She bites her lip, stopping herself from making a scene before she finally releases it and responds. “I’m just fine back here. Thank you, Mr. Leighton.”

  “My pleasure.” I grin wide. “Keep your arms tight. You’re falling out of your stance. Flex your muscles as you drive into the bag,” I instruct and walk away, but I can feel her eyes daggering into the back of my head. She hates the fact that I know her so well. Even after all this time, I know her better than she realizes.

  After a great class, I dismiss everyone and begin packing up. Maya walks in as usual after class and grabs a hold of my arm. I lean down so she can whisper in my ear. I laugh at her comments about bimbo one and two in the front row, and grin as I look up to find Ceci staring at me. She’s scowling and shaking her head at me. Shit. She’s going to think I’m playing her.

  Good.

  She’s jealous.

  I’ll take it. Anything to make her realize she has feelings for me.

  “Dude, that girl was close to lighting you on fire with her eyes. What’d you do to piss her off?”

  “Oh…that story could take a while. Let’s just say, we know each other well. Very well.”

  “What about her friend?” She watches them walk out of the studio and exit out of the gym. There are windows surrounding the building, so it’s easy to see everything outside. The windows are tinted from the outside so you can’t see in.

  “Pretty sure her friend is straight. Sorry, Maya,” I say, teasingly. “There might be a few in the front that are your type.”

  “You’re such a bastard,” she spats. “I can find my own dates.”

  * * *

  I stroke a hand down my shirt, smoothing it as I walk up to Ceci’s door. I know she’s home because I recognize her car in the driveway. I’m prepared for a pisse
d off Ceci, so this’ll be interesting.

  I ring the doorbell and impatiently wait for her to answer.

  She whips the door open with a toothbrush in her mouth, her hair up in some kind of rat’s nest bun. She looks fucking adorable.

  “Vhat arr you doiin herr?” she says with a mouthful of spit. I try not to laugh, but I can’t help it.

  “Uhh, bad time?” I lean in, hoping she lets me in.

  She brings a finger up, motioning for me to wait as she runs and disposes of her toothbrush. She walks back with a bottle of water, chugging it before responding.

  “Why are you here?” she asks again, popping her hip out to one side.

  “I came to hang out,” I say matter-of-factly.

  “Hang out? We don’t hang out.”

  “Friends hang out.”

  “We’re not friends.”

  “We could be friends.”

  She narrows her eyes at me, clearly confused by my sudden intrusion.

  “C’mon. Friends catch up. We have a lot to catch up on.”

  “I’m not exactly ready to catch up.” She waves a hand down her outfit. She’s in stretchy, black pants and a purple tank top.

  “I’m not taking you to the opera. You look fine.”

  She sighs, dropping her shoulders as she stares me down questioning my motives. I’m here to prove to her that we belong together, even if I have to play the friend-zone card.

  “We can watch a movie. I still have 50 First Dates recorded on my DVR.”

  Her face lights up. “You do? I thought you hated that movie.”

  “Nah, I grew to like it.” I shrug casually. After watching it for three weeks straight, I grew to fucking hate it because it reminded me of her. She knows every damn word and every time the penguin scene came on, she’d flap her arms out pretending to wobble like one. Seriously, adorable.

  She inhales deeply as she thinks about it for a moment. “Fine. Let me change. Or at least brush my hair.”

  “I can wait.” I grin.

  Ceci meets me back at the door in less than ten minutes. She’s brushed her hair out and put it up in a high ponytail. She’s wearing black skinny jeans and a casual pink top. Just looking at her makes my dick swell in my jeans. This is going to be more challenging than I thought.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Cecilia

  WHAT THE HELL am I thinking? It’s as if he has this invisible pull on me. He could say, “Come with me…” and my arms would spread out in front of me as I followed behind him like a zombie. I’m worse than a damn groupie.

  “What if I had plans tonight?” I ask, buckling myself in. “What was your backup plan?” I mock.

  He tilts his head toward me, flashing a cocky expression. “Have I ever had to have a backup plan?”

  “Well, I see your arrogant attitude hasn’t changed.” I smirk. “Same old Bentley.”

  “That’s not true,” he bites. “I only act like that to amuse you.” He grins.

  “Now who’s living a double life?”

  “Ha! Not even close. Although, traveling around the world can sure make you feel that way.”

  I look up at him curiously. “Why’s that? I thought you’d love the traveling—modeling, hot dates, sunny beaches, walks along the market’s that sell fruits and vegetables right out of their car.

  He narrows his eyebrows at me before bursting into laughter. “Where exactly do you think I’m traveling?”

  I laugh shyly. “I don’t know. Just seems very world-traveley.”

  How was it that one moment his mouth was on mine, his body consuming me entirely and now I’m in his car ‘hanging out.’ It’s as if that moment never happened as if we’re just pretending it didn’t mean anything.

  Could Bentley really be my friend? Was it possible to be friends with someone you shared yourself with?

  A part of me is screaming No! while the other part is ignoring it. I could do this. We could be friends. He knows we aren’t hooking back up, so perhaps it was that simple.

  We arrive at his condo and everything inside is exactly same. It’s like walking into a time machine, and it’s two years ago. Everything’s familiar and feels comfortable…like home.

  “Wow…I love what you’ve done with the place,” I tease, walking through to the living room.

  He laughs lightly. “Yeah, well that’s what happens when you aren’t home often enough to do anything to it.”

  I nod, agreeing. I take a seat on his couch, on the far end, and get comfortable. He grabs the remote and sits on the opposite end as he flips through his DVR.

  “Can I get you anything to drink before we start?” he asks.

  “Sure, thanks.” I smile weakly back at him. This is a whole new Bentley. This isn’t possessive, eat-me-alive Bentley. This is genuine Bentley with maybe a bit of brokenness. I’m really fond of both sides of Bentley—knowing he can be this person as well plays with my emotions even more.

  I should’ve known coming here would pull at my heartstrings, but part of me just couldn’t say no. We used to have a lot of fun together cooped up in this condo. We had a lot of fun basically anywhere.

  “Hope this is okay. My fridge isn’t stocked.” He hands me a can of diet Pepsi and I nod graciously.

  “It’s perfect, thanks.”

  He sits back down and turns the movie on. Soon, Adam Sandler is trying to hit on Drew Barrymore and her house made of waffles. Of course, she turns him down, and the whole scene is hilarious because she doesn’t remember past one day.

  We sit comfortably with a bowl of popcorn in between us, laughing in between bites. It’s so easy. No pressure, no unsaid words—just two friends hanging out.

  We continue casually hanging out for the next few weeks. Each time, Bentley picks me up and we talk about everything and anything on the ride to his house or restaurant. Sometimes we stay in and watch movies and cook, or he takes us out for pizza and wings. It’s honestly nothing like I pictured being friends with Bentley would be. We were growing closer, but without all the sexual tension lingering between us.

  “What are you doing?” Cora asks, accusingly from behind me as I look over myself in the mirror.

  “Just making sure this shirt matches these shorts,” I answer casually, rubbing my hands down the fabric to smooth it out.

  “Not that, dumbass. What are you doing with Bentley?”

  I spin around, narrowing my eyes at her. “We’re just hanging out.”

  She tilts her head, disapprovingly. “Celia, I love you, but you, my friend are living in delusional-land.”

  “Am not,” I say, defensively. “Why would you say that?”

  “He’s taking you out to meals and you watch movies at his house. Alone. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out.”

  “Well, you’re wrong. We’re friends. There’s no touching, kissing, nothing. Strictly platonic.” I nod my head affirmatively. “Plus, he knows I have a boyfriend.”

  “Do you?” she snaps.

  I glare at her as I grab my purse off the bed. “Yes. We’re not breaking any rules.”

  “Does Brandon know you two are hanging out?” she fires again. “Have you even bothered to tell him?”

  “He knows I have friends here, Cora. I don’t see the big deal.”

  She snorts and stands up. “Okay. You keep telling yourself that. When shit blows up, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She begins to walk out of my room, but a fiery anger ripples through my veins.

  “Why are you acting like such a bitch?” She halts and spins around, aggressively eyeing me.

  “Now I’m acting like a bitch? Celia, take a look around. Look at what you’re doing. I’m just telling you what you’re apparently too blind to see.”

  “I’m only home for the summer, Cora. Can we not fight, please?” I beg softly. The last thing I want is to get into a fight over Bentley.

  “He loves you, Celia. He’s still in love with you. This act, or whatever he’s doing, is in hopes you’ll fall back in love with him.�
��

  I shake my head feverishly. “No, he wasn’t in love with me. He’s just wasting time while he’s not modeling this summer. It’s nothing. I promise.”

  She walks over to me and grabs my hands in hers, locking eyes with me intently. “Well, for your heart’s sake, I hope you’re right. After hearing how you dealt with it and knowing how long it took you to move on, I just don’t want you to go through that again. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  “I won’t. I’m fine. Honest.” I smile back at her. She leans in and hugs me goodbye before leaving. I glance in the mirror once more before heading downstairs and waiting for him to pick me up.

  “I thought we could see a movie tonight,” he says as soon as he pulls out into the street.

  “You’re going to make me watch one of those gory-guts-everywhere-type movies, aren’t you?” I cringe, wrinkling my face at him.

  He laughs, gripping the steering wheel slyly as he weaves us in and out of traffic. “No, actually. I thought we could watch one of your sappy, romance movies.”

  I cock a brow in disbelief. “Well, this new side of Bentley is very refreshing. A gentleman and a chick flick. It’s like you’ve turned into my gay bestie,” I tease.

  His hands tense and I see his eyes darken. Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say.

  We arrive at the theatre and Bentley completely surprises me when he buys two tickets for The Fault in Our Stars.

  “Are you fucking with me right now?”

  His eyes widen, taken back. “Um, no. We don’t have to see it if you don’t want, I just figured—”

  “Yes! I’ve been dying to see this movie! Oh, my god. Please tell me you brought like ten boxes of tissues.”

  I nearly skip to the theatre, the anticipation of finally seeing this tearjerker is almost too much. I read the book last year during my Freshman year when I was in my self-torturous phase and putting myself through emotional pain.

  “How’d you know I’d want to see this?” I ask, bumping my shoulder with his as we sit down.