His Trouble Maker

Chapter 10

GRAY’S POV

She’s cute.

Fuck.

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Grab ahold of yourself, Grayson.

I pick up the damn water bottle, twist the cap with a little too much force, and take a long sip–mostly to stop myself from smirking like a lunatic across the table. She’s edgy. Fidgety. Can’t meet my eyes for more than two seconds without shifting in her seat like I’m burning her from the inside out.

Good.

She should be.

If she only knew–if she had any fucking clue–how close I was to kissing her in that lunch line just to shut those other girls up. Just to mark her with my mouth and make it clear: this one’s mine.

But I didn’t.

Because I can’t.

Not yet.

My thumb taps once–twice–against the side of the bottle as I stare at her. She’s not even eating. Just pushing food around like it insulted her. Her lashes flick up for half a second and our eyes meet.

She looks away.

Fast.

Gods, she’s going to kill me.

No, scratch that. I’m going to kill for her.

Logan is talking about something. Laughing, gesturing. I don’t know. I don’t care. My focus is locked on the way her fingers grip the edge of the tray. Tight. White–knuckled.

She’s trying so hard to pretend she’s okay.

She’s not.

And neither am I.

I shouldn’t have touched her.

Not in public. Not like that.

weu, su

Chapter 10

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But the second I felt the arch of her back under my hand, the soft little flinch she thought I didn’t notice–I knew.

She’s sensitive there.

Delicate.

Breakable.

Perfect.

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And every fucking instinct in me screamed to drag her onto the table, bare her throat, and bite down until she screamed my name with her legs wrapped around my waist.

1 blink slowly. Take another sip of water. Try to breathe like a sane person. I’ve led war parties with more composure than this.

My cock is still half–hard under the table, twitching every time she licks her lips like that.

Goddess. Help me.

She finally stabs something with her fork, then pauses, like she forgot how to eat.

Cute.

Distracted.

Mine.

between us like a dumbass who enjoys playing

Friends.

Huh.

fork clinks against her tray. Her eyes go wide. She sits up a little

“We’re not!”

Too fast. Like she’s desperate

slow and deliberate. The annoyance coils in me tight, dark,

Really, woman?

well

pink. “I don’t know what

a brow, clearly loving

at her food, stabs a potato like it personally betrayed her. Her knee bounces under the table. Her lip twitches. She peeks at me, then back at her tray, like the eye contact might kill

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Chapter 10

It might.

definitely not friends,” she mutters, quieter now.

I raise a brow.

at me

This bitch.

molars, hard enough to pop something in my jaw. My grip tightens around the bottle until the plastic buckles

“if we were the last two wolves alive and I was bleeding out, I’d still choose the sweet release of death

She’s too fucking proud. Too smug. Too untouchable. And it’s driving me insane. Doesn’t she get it? She wants me to lose it. She wants

stare at her. At her neck. Her lips. The delicate shift of

her mouth with a

Alpha.

tries to cut

But like I said-

She’s a brat.

her head at me, eyes dark and bright and begging

she purrs, dragging out the word.

fire rises up my spine. Jessica throws

stands.

your lunch, boys,” she mutters, swinging her tray onto the bin with a clatter

are calm. Measured. In control. So, I do

One. Two Fuckit.

chair back so hard it screeches against the floor. Heads turn. I don’t care. She wants to be

locked on the sway of her hips ahead. This stupid, reckless, mouthy little girl who keeps thinking I won’t lose it. Who

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Chapter 10

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through the hallway, every step pounding out of me like a war beat, like my

takes a hard left–fast. Sharp. Like she thought she could

her shoulder, eyes locking on mine for half

Her brows furrow.

Good.

how deep in she

And then she runs.

She actually fucking runs.

her brain catches up. Her

That’s fucking right.

Run.

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You pissed me off.

You wanted a reaction?

to choke on

against the floor like thunder. She darts down the side hall behind the science wing–the part of the school that always smells like copper and floor wax. No students. No

walked into the fucking den. She throws open a random door in the hallway–doesn’t even check what’s behind it. Just slips inside like

after, boots skidding slightly against the tile as I round the corner and shoulder into

reckless, unthinking girl. It’s dumb for her to come out here- back of the school, no windows, no teachers, no

the door. Press it shut behind me. My palm

getting

so fast her hair whips with her,

run from me first.

she barks, like

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