The One Who Got Away (An Alpha Billionaire Romance) Read Online Free Page B

The One Who Got Away (An Alpha Billionaire Romance)
Book: The One Who Got Away (An Alpha Billionaire Romance) Read Online Free
Author: Ava Claire
Tags: Romance, Contemporary, alpha male, New Adult & College, alpha male romance, Billionaire, billionaire romance, Two Hours or More (65-100 Pages), billionaire erotic romance, alpha billionaire, alpha billionaire romance, ava claire, billionaire love
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on cue, Ashton appeared in the hallway beside us. Happiness exploded in my chest like the 4th of July. It had been almost a year since she made the trek to Nebraska, but it felt like a lifetime.
    Ashton was in a black sweater and jeans with bunny rabbit flats, but her chin-length, raven-colored hair had blue streaks running through the choppy locks. Silver studs ran up and down her earlobe and a nose ring glittered in the light, broadcasting the fact that she was far from the fuzzy, innocent thing on her shoes.
    “I see Hunter is being inappropriate with the visitors again,” Ashton quipped, crossing her arms.
    Hunter jutted out her chin. “Hey! My signature charm is the reason I’m the face of the Admissions office.” She beamed at me. “Besides, your best friend is a little more than a ‘visitor.’”
    “Just a tiny bit,” Ashton smiled, practically running over to me. She pulled me into a hug that told me she had felt my absence, too.
    I squeezed her right back. I was still playing coy with the nonprofit, but I’d already made up my mind. I was going to accept the job and crash with Ashton until I found my own place.
    “Heya stranger,” I whispered. I took a tiny step back, scanning her for new ink
    She read my mind and turned around, lowering her head a few notches. There was an infinity sign at the base of her neck. The she whipped back around, gripping my arm as she took off her shoe. She flexed her foot so I could see the bottom. On the sole of her left foot was a Technicolor bug with green goo oozing out of its colorful body.
    “Two new ones since I last saw you,” she grinned proudly.
    “Nice,” I nodded enthusiastically. I only had one. ‘Breathe’ was etched behind my left ear. It hurt like hell, so it was my first and last tattoo. I’d just have to live vicariously through Ash.
    Hunter cleared her throat behind us, and I realized that the girl who had been talking about partying in foreign countries was now watching us with fascination. If her mother was wearing pearls, she’d probably be clutching them.
    “Let’s go back to my office,” Ash murmured, looping her arm through mine.
    We stepped into her domain and I felt like I was back in her bedroom in Rhoades, but everything had an edge of sophistication now. There wasn’t a tattered, creased poster of David Bowie tacked to the wall near her bed. Instead, there was his silhouette and a quote, surrounded by a striking black frame. The pillows that used to be scattered all over her room were as bright as I remembered, but now they were perched delicately and in their place on a blood-red chaise. She had a pretty similar desk back in high school, but back then it was barely visible amid the junk and covered with band stickers. Today, her vintage black desk had ornate legs and her desktop was organized, complete with a sleek silver computer and a red and black folder system.
    “Nice digs,” I commented, hesitating before I made my way to a chevron printed armchair in front of her desk. “I’m gonna have to cut back on my hoarding ways so I don’t junk up your place.”
    “Don’t believe the hype,” Ashton assured me with a chuckle, plopping into her seat with a sigh. “This place just looks presentable because I’m sure potential students and parents would frown on dirty clothes, empty Starbucks cups, and vibrators all over the place.”
    “What have I gotten myself into?” I gasped, my eyes bulging with faux horror.
    “Oh, don’t worry. I won’t walk around naked. I’ll wear pasties and G-strings, of course.”
    I settled in the seat with a clipped giggle, my eyes following the lines of the nameplate on her desk. She’d only been working full-time for the college for a year and she’d already been promoted to Head of Admissions. She was building a career, a legacy, and I’d been working part-time here and there, at any nonprofit that would have me, since graduation. She was moving forward, no, blazing forward, and I was
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