Page 86 of Break Points and Face Offs

I’m tongue-tied for a second. How do I articulate how important this is? “Ma, whoever’s top of this leaderboard will get an internship with the most prestigious asset management company in New York.”

“And?”

“And …” I splutter. “I want that internship.”

She sighs. “There’ll be other internships, for both of you. I’m sure whoever wins it will be happy for the other.”

I consider this for a second. Will I really be happy for Priestley if he beats me in the leaderboard and I have to go and find an internship somewhere else?

I think about the way his dad spoke to him at dinner. The responsibility he feels toward his little brother. How uptight he is, and how good it feels to watch him slowly relax.

“This internship comes with a financial bonus, Ma.”

“So?”

“So—” I don’t have to finish the sentence, Ma realizes what I’m thinking and cuts me off.

“We’re fine. I don’t want you worrying about us. How many times do I have to tell you?”

I sigh, run a hand over my stubbled chin. People warned me grad school would do a number on me, but I wasn’t fully prepared for this. The fatigue is really starting to take over.

“Will, are you listening?”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“Be honest with yourself. If you take some stupid cash bonus out of the equation, would you be happy for Priestley if he got the internship?”

“I guess so. Yeah, I’d be happy for him,” I admit.

The thing is, I don’t think Priestley will be happy for me.

The thought still has me in its clutches when I meet him at the library. He’s set up on one of the long tables with his books spread out in front of him.

I took what I needed from that book he finally gave me before returning it so someone else could use it. That didn’t even cross Priestley’s mind, did it?

He looks up at me, the slightest of smiles ghosting his lips before he smothers it. I’m such a sucker for this guy. Maybe I’m the patron saint of lost causes or something, because no matter how much I force myself to focus on his bad qualities, all he has to do is show me the slightest hint that there’s a heart in there and I’m falling over myself to prove it.

“Everything okay?” he asks.

“Yeah, I just got off the phone to my ma.”

“Oh?” He puts his head down and looks at something on his laptop. “How is everyone?”

That shouldn’t warm me as much as it does.

“Fine. She was asking about you.”

He can’t hide the pleasure before he pushes it down. “Oh? That’s nice.”

She wants to know when you’re coming back to Boston, I almost say, but stop myself. I don’t think I could deal with rejection right now.

Instead, we get down to studying. Mostly in companiable silence, though we talk a little, too. I try not to get distracted by the way his dark lashes fan over his eyelids. The neat arch of his black eyebrows. The slightly bowed shape of his top lip.

Priestley Rosenthal is seriously gorgeous, and despite all that attitude, I’m not even sure he knows it.

We head to the parking lot when we’re finished and I automatically climb into Priestley’s car.

“Want to go to the diner?” he asks.