Page 105 of Break Points and Face Offs

Priestley looks nervous before saying, “Thank you for coming tonight.”

“What’s going on?” I ask. All I really want to do is put my hand on his face and check in on him, but I don’t have a fucking clue what’s going on between us. “I was worried when I didn’t hear from you.” I swallow, needing to know that he didn’t screw me over, begging whoever’s in charge of the universe that this isn’t what’s happening here. “How did things go with your dad?”

“I’m sure you know by now,” he says, lowering his head. “Father gave me the internship over you, even though you won it fair and square.”

My heart races in my ears. “I know.”

“Who told you?”

“Professor Moreno.”

“She probably hates me again,” he huffs.

“I’m sure she knows it’s not your fault, right?” My stomach twists, waiting for him to confirm that he didn’t orchestrate this. He wouldn’t throw me under the bus, not now. “You didn’t know your dad was going to do that.” Right?

“Of course I didn’t.”

My whole body sighs with relief.

“But, Will, it’s time for me to start taking accountability. I’ve been a fool for thinking I’ve never been given an unfair advantage. Just because I work hard, doesn’t mean⁠—”

“Priestley.” I put my hands on his shoulders and try to stop him from spiraling, but his face drops as soon as I say his name.

“You’re not calling me Rosie anymore.”

“I thought you hated that.”

He raises his gaze to meet mine. He looks almost shy. I can’t help but stroke his cheek with my thumb.

“Talk to me, Rosie,” I say.

A smile ghosts his lips.

“Why are you so sad?”

He looks up at me through his dark lashes. “Because I love you and you hate me.”

My breath catches.

“What did you just say?”

He squirms, but stays where he is, forcing himself to hold my gaze.

“I said, I love you, but you⁠—”

Before he can say the next bit, I lower my head until our faces are close enough for me to press my lips to his. He sighs into my mouth, like he’s been waiting an age for this to happen.

He grips my shirt tight while I kiss him, slow and deep, enjoying the little whimper he lets out when my tongue starts massaging his. I force myself to pull away and look in his eyes.

“I do not hate you. Nowhere near,” I tell him.

He nods hesitantly.

My heart pounds as I look at him, my hands either side of his face, my thumb stroking his cheek.

“Baby,” I say, feeling my chest expand. “I love you, too.”

His lips crash into mine with such intensity our teeth clash. I laugh through the kiss but doesn’t stop kissing me.