Page 71 of Knot What She Seems
Was he about to say…my name?
Is he attempting to teach “Teddie” to fight forme?
A strange, warm feeling rushes through me. I don’twantto have this feeling. At all. The last time I did, I got kidnapped, tortured, and?—
I cut that shit off. Fast.
Then I force myself to take a long, measured breath.
“How much longer do we have, boss?” I ask, trying my damnedest not to infuse my voice with sass. Brylee is sassy. Teddie is calm and collected.
I pivot to face Ridge.
My breath catches, a boulder wedging itself in my throat. A tingly heat pervades my body, and a pulsing ache erupts in my center.
Oh my god.
Ridge is…shirtless. Gloriously shirtless. My eyes greedily lap up every inch of his golden physique. My last pack had been muscular, but they have nothing on Ridge. Every line on his chest and stomach are defined and sharp enough to cut glass. There’s a tiny trail of golden hair that disappears down the waistband of his workout shorts. I want to taste that trail, follow it with my mouth the way I would a treasure map leading to?—
I turn away quickly, willing my heartbeat to slow, my lust to cool.
I’m Teddie, not Brylee.
Ridge is a domineering asshole.
I hate him.
I don’t want mates.
I don’t want to be tied to any alpha, let alone four.
The thoughts do as intended. I no longer want to cross the room and climb Ridge like the glorious golden tree he is.
Much.
I don’t want to do thatmuch.
“Let’s go through a few more takedowns, and then we can—” Ridge pauses. I glance over my shoulder to see him throwing a clean shirt on, his gaze fixed on the doorway to the gym, where I see the retreating back of an unknown man. “Actually, you’re dismissed, cadet. I’ll see you in class.”
Before I can comment, he’s stalking ahead, every step quick and purposeful.
What?
I gawk after him.
WHAT?
Sam’s words from the other day play on a loop in my mind.
What the hell is he up to? Did he see something?
Curiosity wars with common sense, but apparently, I don’t have strong survival instincts. Before I can think better of it, I’m hurrying after him, praying that he won’t catch a whiff of my scent and realize I’m following him.
The halls are almost empty this early in the morning—the sun has just barely started to rise, still a ghost of red and orange on the horizon. I only spot a few staff members and one student.
No Ridge.
Where did he go?
