Page 15 of Knot Mine

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. I was trying to do a good deed and give them back, but he was criticizing me? I’ve been carrying them around since that night, waiting for the right moment and stupidly, I thought that this was it. Clearly, I needed to learn to read the room better in future.

His pretty pink lips have pulled into a tight line as he scoffs. “You’re the same as the others.”

“I didn’t return them earlier because I knew you’d be like this.” I throw my hands up. His words weren’t fair. I was bringing them back to him. I was trying to help. I could have left them by the pool, pretended that I never saw them. I could have bailed on him today. Was I a saint? No. But I was trying to make an effort. Didn’t that count for something? “Not everything is a confrontation or a slight, Shiloh.”

His eyebrow arches. “Isn’t it?”

Stepping towards me, his bag is forgotten on the desk as he encroaches on my space. I can smell something sweet, like vanilla coming from him and I think it’s his body wash. “Haven’t your dumb jock friends, and the catty omegas that cling to you taught me otherwise?”

Another step forward, as I step back, trying to keep some distance between us but it’s no use, he just moves again. It’s like we’re magnets and there’s some force, probably anger, drawing him to me.

“Have any of them ever shown me an ounce of kindness or fuck, anything other than contempt?” There’s more than just anger lacing his words, there’s rage. A fury making them sharp, cutting into me as he takes another step forward. Another step backwards.

He jabs a finger into my shoulder, making me wince. Vanilla notes mingle with something like burnt sugar and if I didn’tknow better…I would think Shiloh was exuding pheromones. But a beta couldn’t do that.

“What?” He spits, getting even closer. The gold flecked hues are burning into me, like he’s trying to start a fire with his eyes. “Did I deserve it? Did I ask for it? Go on, Zale. Say it. Fucking sayit.”

“We’re not doing this.” My back hits the shelves, and my bag slides off my shoulder to the floor with a clunk. Holding my hands up in defense, I try to shrink in on myself. I know I’m a big guy, and that can make people nervous or defensive but it doesn’t matter what I do, he’s looking for beef with me.

It’s the wrong thing to say as he straightens, his shoulders pulling back before he grabs my T-shirt in his fists. Our gazes lock, our breathing erratic and chests heaving as this tension between us continues to grow, swelling and expanding until it fills the space and I’m suffocating on it.

“Because you think I can’t stand up for myself?” He hisses, shoving against me with every other word. If we’re not careful, someone’s going to come and investigate the noises as he thrusts me against the bookcase again, making it rattle. “Because I’m a beta?”

Grabbing his wrists, I hold him still. Even though he’s never seemed fragile, it feels like I could snap his bones in my grip if I’m not careful with him. Gentle. Tender.

What. The. Fuck?

I wasn’t going to be tender to Shiloh Vos. The guy was a piranha who would strip my bones clean before he let me show him any kind of softness. Shaking my head, I try to push away the fog clouding my brain.

“No. Fuck! Because–stop pushing me– because I don’t want to fight with you!” I grip him tighter, pulling him against my chest so that there’s no room for him to keep shoving.

That isn’t enough to stop the little brat though, and somehow, he manages to free one of his hands, bringing it up to my throat. I can feel each of his fingers, burning into my skin like he’s searing a brand on me as he squeezes.

Neither of us says anything as we stand, wrapped up in one another. How did we get here? Breathing in each other’s air. Bodies pressed together as we both battle to get control of the situation. My thigh is pushed between his legs, and I try to pull away, but unless one of us concedes there’s no untangling the weird embrace we’re in.

Something in the back of my mind is niggling at me. I should punch him, force him back. But it’s like that hand on my neck is made of metal, shackling me in place as his face is barely inches away from mine. I grip him near his waist, locking him in place, stopping him from pushing me again but it brings our bodies flush with one another. It’s heady, this strange hold we have on one another as we share the same air.

If I flicked out my tongue now, I could lick his lips.

Not that I would.

That would be fucked up.

He’s my girlfriend’s brother.

My potential future brother-in-law.

He’s also rock fucking hard.

His cock is pressed against my leg as both of us refuse to move. Instead of my alpha nature rising, demanding to be in control, I swallow, intensely aware of the movement against his palm. Practically melting into him, I let my body relax. I don’t want to fight him. Rolling my hips without thinking, drawing a strange noise from both of us, I freeze.

What am I doing?

I need to get out of here, my mind spinning like my brain has been blitzed in a blender. With a slow exhale, I let go of his otherwrist and the hand I’d placed on his hip, lifting both my hands in defeat.

The anger in his green eyes simmers away, and he blinks, long, dark lashes fluttering for a few moments before he shakes his head, making his messy curls bounce.

“Fuck.” I hear him whisper beneath his breath before he steps back.

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