Page 163 of Breeding Her: The Red Flag Edition
I justified it to myself easily—habit, instinct, professional paranoia.
But the truth was simpler.
I wanted to know where she was.
All the time.
And I did.
I watched her routines fall into patterns: morning classes, late-night study sessions, the occasional walk to clear her head.
Every time she passed my house, she glanced toward my window.
Every single time.
She thought she was being subtle.
She wasn’t.
And as much as I wanted to drag her inside and prove exactly how far those bold little texts could go…
I waited.
Tightly coiled, but controlled.
Because when Callie finally came to me, it needed to be her decision.
She was getting close.
So close I could feel it tightening around me like a wire.
I sipped my coffee and watched her walk up the street—slow, thoughtful, her bag slung carelessly over one shoulder. When she paused at my gate, I set the mug down and reached for the binoculars.
She crouched, brushing her hair back as she looked toward the hedge.
Was she talking to herself?
I stood.
Downstairs would give me a better view.
And right now, I didn’t want to miss a single thing.
Chapter 9
Callie
As soon as I reached his house, I saw Dottie.
Outside. Beneath Alistair’s prize rose bushes. The cerise-pink blooms were in full show, practically glowing with smug, innocent beauty. Dottie had his ass raised—and I knew that stance.
“Dottie, no!” I hissed, crouching beside the gate.
The little shit didn’t even look my way.
He gave a delicate shuffle… and began to drop his turd.
“No. Dottie! Who let you out? I’m going to kill them. Stop it.”
