Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 90436 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90436 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
“No,” she growls. “I’m fine right here.”
“That was a ballsy move you pulled earlier,” I say to change the subject. “Did you think you’d get my cock hard and then laugh all the way home?”
She chuckles. “You were hard?”
“I was pretty damn close.”
As I expected, she flings the door open and grips the frame, staring me down with hatred in her beautiful blue eyes. “I flew out here to have breakfast with my dad, not to marry you.”
“Hey, you think I want to get married? That’s the last thing I want to do.”
Harley glares at me. “Happy to hear we’re on the same page because this wedding isn’t happening.”
I close the distance between us, our mouths inches apart. “It needs to happen.”
“I don’t have to do anything.” She shoves me out of the way and moves in front of the sink, her eyes fixed on me in the mirror. “You dug your own grave, and you should have to lie in it.”
“I know.” I reach out, seeking her warmth. “I’m sorry.”
She swats my hand away. “Don’t touch me, Nate. We’re not friends anymore.”
“I could be your friend again. We can do this, Harley.” I move behind her, leaning forward to press my palms to the counter, caging her against the sink. Harley breathes loudly when I inch my lips closer to her ear. “We can turn this into a game, like old times. You can be Harley Quinn, and I’ll be your Joker.”
She laughs. “You’re a joker, alright.”
“Okay, fine. I deserve that.” A beat passes. “We were good at pretending to be other people. A fake wedding will be a breeze for us.”
“We can’t get married,” she shoots back. “Even if I agreed to do it, no one would believe you’re in a relationship, let alone getting married. Not after all of the whoring around you’ve done this past year alone.”
“I’m not that bad,” I counter.
She snorts. “Please, Nate. If you want me to work with you, then don’t bullshit me.”
“We can make people believe this is real. You want to hate me, but I know you don’t.”
Harley rolls her eyes. “Think about how this will make me look, like I’m some doormat that you wipe your feet on after you’re done screwing other women. No, thank you. If I’m going to marry someone, it will be real. It will be special.”
“You can have anything you want,” I say, not above begging. “I don’t care what it takes.”
Harley looks down at the counter and sighs. “Nate, I want a real wedding. I want bridesmaids, flowers, the perfect engagement ring, a six-layer cake, the wedding gown I designed. And most of all,” she says, staring into my eyes. “I want to marry a man who loves me so much that he would dance with me under the stars, make love to me on the beach, and then whisper in my ear that he loves me. That he wants to spend the rest of his life with me. I want it to be real.”
And I can’t lose you again.
Her words hit me like a punch to the stomach. I’m taking her dream away from her.
“I can’t give you everything you want,” I confess. “But I’ll try to be what you want.”
“Nate,” she groans, her eyes watery.
“We won’t have a company left to run if you don’t do this.”
She grips the edge of the sink, her eyes downcast. “And that would be your fault.”
“C’mon, Harley. You don’t want to lose your birthright.”
She groans. “No, I don’t.”
“So, what’s it going to take?”
She turns around to face me with a mischievous look on her face, and I step back to give her some room.
“You said I can have anything I want.” She clicks her tongue. “Anything?”
I nod. “Anything. Name it.”
Harley covers her face with her hands, as if she’s ashamed for considering the marriage. She knows as well as I do that nothing else will fix our problem. Our parents are hemorrhaging money from the company. Both of our fathers follow their hearts instead of the money, which is a terrible way to run a business. After one too many failed projects, we need Titan Tech’s influx of capital to roll out our upcoming products.
Harley’s eyes illuminate. “I want to design your next video game.”
She squares her shoulders, her head held high. This is the Harley I know.
For the past six months, Stefan has juggled two jobs, doing a half-assed job as both the Lead Engineer and Creative Director, the role Harley deserves. I demanded her father give it to her and was shot down immediately. Even my dad wouldn’t back me up. Stefan couldn’t care less about the job and would happily hand the reins over to Harley. If the launch of Ashborn fails, it’s because of his lack of interest and inexperience with project oversight.