Prajna G S [S - Listen to My Heartbeat
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- Book:Listen to My Heartbeat
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- Publisher:Notion Press, Inc.
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- Year:2017
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Aryan is the youngest son of a billionaire, a perfect blend of stunning looks, a sharp brain and immense wealth. He draws the attention of everyone in his college despite his cold and arrogant temperament. Trisha is a hard-working girl from a far humbler background and her entire world revolves around her mother. When the two meet, a new story develops. One of an inescapable attraction, one of love acknowledged and denied, one that sets your heartbeat racingListen to My Heartbeat.
Prajna G S [S: author's other books
Who wrote Listen to My Heartbeat? Find out the surname, the name of the author of the book and a list of all author's works by series.
Danielle Steel
RJ Nolan
Brennan Manning
Peter Wohlleben
Mineer
Kim Vogel Sawyer
Loretta Ellsworth
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Notion Press
Old No. 38, New No. 6
McNichols Road, Chetpet
Chennai - 600 031
First Published by Notion Press 2017
Copyright Prajna G S 2017
All Rights Reserved.
ISBN 978-1-947202-93-1
This book has been published with all reasonable efforts taken to make the material error-free after the consent of the author. No part of this book shall be used, reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
The Author of this book is solely responsible and liable for its content including but not limited to the views, representations, descriptions, statements, information, opinions and references [Content]. The Content of this book shall not constitute or be construed or deemed to reflect the opinion or expression of the Publisher or Editor. Neither the Publisher nor Editor endorse or approve the Content of this book or guarantee the reliability, accuracy or completeness of the Content published herein and do not make any representations or warranties of any kind, express or implied, including but not limited to the implied warranties of merchantability, fitness for a particular purpose. The Publisher and Editor shall not be liable whatsoever for any errors, omissions, whether such errors or omissions result from negligence, accident, or any other cause or claims for loss or damages of any kind, including without limitation, indirect or consequential loss or damage arising out of use, inability to use, or about the reliability, accuracy or sufficiency of the information contained in this book.
Contents
You Are as Cold as Ice
S till feels like a dream I said, raising my hand and feeling the fresh morning air as I looked at the clear blue sky through my unfurled fingers.
It sure is. Getting into AFL is not everybodys cup of tea. Just imagine stepping into one of the poshest universities of the world. Wow! Just thinking about it makes me flooooat, Aysha said, her body swaying with the wind.
AFL was one of the top institutions for architecture, arts and business management. Its students were not regular boys and girls; they all came from super-rich, influential families. As a matter of fact, AFL was originally built for such people, but the management later decided to open 5 per cent of seats every year to scholarship students, as an opportunity for regular students to experience high-quality education. In reality, this was more like a charity, devised to portray a good image for the institution. To secure these reserved seats, millions of students competed every year in a scholarship exam conducted by AFL. Those who secured top ranks were given scholarship seats. Hence, getting these seats was no less than a miracle .
Yeah, and the rule to make the campus premises off limits to outsiders makes it even more exciting, I said, smiling.
By the way, Im Trisha. A middle-class family girl, I live alone with my mom who raised me singlehandedly on the little income she made as a typist in a small law firm. As for my dad, he lost his life to cancer when I was just five years old. Ever since, mom has been the sole breadwinner in our two-member family, working extra hard to make ends meet.
The girl jumping with joy next to me is Aysha. She too is from a middle-class family, although slightly better off than mine. Her dad owns a small grocery shop in the city and her mom is a housewife.
Aysha and I have been best friends since childhood. We started out in the same kindergarten and grew up sharing our lunch boxes. Although we live at opposite ends of the city, our mothers became close friends thanks to our friendship.
Aysha is actually my only friend and is very special and dear to me. For someone like me who depends on hard work and buries herself in books sixteen hours a day, finding a friend is very difficult; nobody likes to spend time with me. Not Aysha, though; she has stayed with me all these years and not just because she knew me from childhood but because she likes my company although our tastes and interests are entirely different.
Studying architecture at a renowned institution like AFL has always been a part of my dream, more like a rung in the ladder to my dreams. To Aysha it didnt matter where she studied as long as she was with me.
Tell me about it I was soooo excited that I couldnt shut my eyes for even a second last night, she said, looking at me with baggy eyes, which proved the truth of her statement. You know, if it werent for you, getting into AFL would never have been possible.
Oh, come on; it was your efforts that paid off, I said with a smile.
Nope. It is because of you. You spent night after night tutoring me, making it possible, Aysha said, linking her arms with mine. If I had depended on my caliber, I would have got twelfth rank from the bottom of the list and not from the top. You know, since the day the results were announced, I ask mom to pinch me every morning, to check if Im dreaming.
I laughed as I looked at her.
But when I saw your rank I was not at all shocked, she continued. I mean, you were born a genius. Getting first rank is not a big thing for you. You always come first. In fact, I would have been surprised if you hadnt got first place in this scholarship exam.
Im not a genius, Aysha. This is the result of hard work, hard work and more hard work, I said, smiling.
Well, you can say whatever you want, but I still say you are a genius and I want to treat my genius friend to the black currant ice cream she loves so much, she said as her eyes fell on an ice-cream cart standing a few meters from us. Before I could say anything, she ran off, telling me to wait.
She will never change. I smiled to myself.
As I waited for Aysha, I watched the road. There were hardly any vehicles around.
It is too early for traffic.
Just then, I saw a guy with a racket in his hand and a cell phone to his ear, crossing the road a few meters away from me. To my shock a truck was headed towards him and the truck did not sound its horn. I shouted, telling him to step back but he did not seem to hear my voice. He walked slowly, engrossed in his conversation, his gaze on the other side of the road. I ran towards him as the truck neared, still without sounding the horn. I increased my speed although I seemed to have reached my limit and just when I thought I wouldnt be able to make it, I reached him and pulled him towards the footpath just before the truck could hit him.
I held my chest, gasping for breath. After a few deep inhales, I raised my head to give the guy a piece of my mind. As my eyes fell on him, my words drained away. I stared at him blankly, stunned by his looks. He was tall and had a very attractive face with a neat jawline. His skin was fair and flawless. He was wearing a dark red sleeveless pullover that accentuated his long neck and complimented his smooth, fair skin. He looked at me, scanning my face with his dark eyes as his straight, hazelnut-colored hair fluttered over his eyes with the wind. Suddenly, his gaze fixed coldly on my eyes.
Havent you seen a guy before? he said in a dry, arrogant voice.
I was taken aback by his rudeness.
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