His Trouble Maker

Chapter 68

Chapter 68

Chapter 68

JESSICA

The cafeteria was loud–but the moment we walked in, it went quiet. Riot didn’t seem to notice. Or maybe he did, and he just didn’t care Inches the about him. He’s so oblivious for someone who is fucking huge. He piled a tray high with meat–rare cuts, blood pooling, slabs of protein that would made mest omegas flinch.

I didn’t sit.

I leaned against the far wall, arms crossed, forcing myself to keep my chin up. I was still bristling. Still hot in the face and chest, still replaying every breath he took near me like I could edit it after the fact.

But my eyes wouldn’t stop tracking him.

And goddess… watching him eat was a fucking experience. He didn’t chew like a civilized person. He ore. Ripped into steak with his teeth, barely using the knife, stuffing mouthful after mouthful like he hadn’t eaten in days. His jaw flexed hard. His throat worked with every swallow. Fingers slick with grease and blood.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

I cleared my throat, voice sharper than I meant. “Where did they lock you, huh? Deep in the woods with the other wolves they couldn’t civilize?”

A line of juice rolled down his wrist. He licked it without breaking eye contact.

I shifted where I stood, hating how my heartbeat ticked faster at that tiny movement.

“Seriously, Riot,” I muttered, arms tightening across my chest. “What do you want with me?”

He finally sat back a little, his tray half–empty, his forearms resting against his spread thighs.

Only then did he look at me-*really* look. I really hated the way it made my back straighten.

“What makes you think I want anything?” he asked, voice casual, almost bored. His tone didn’t match his eyes. His eyes were sharp.

I narrowed mine. “Because I’m not stupid.”

He smiled again. “I didn’t say you were,” he murmured. “But I don’t need to “want something to take it.”

I blinked.

“What does that mean?”

didn’t mean for my voice to drop like that. Lower. A little tighter. But it did. Because something about the way he said it–casual and cruel–made my

chest tighten and my thoughts stutter.

Riot didn’t answer.

He just gave a lazy shrug–shoulders rising and falling like my question hadn’t even scratched the surface–and picked up another piece of meat.

He ate it slowly.

I clenched my jaw. “Riot.”

Still, he didn’t look up. He just devour the damn meat than give me his attention. After he’s done, Riot atleast had the character to clean up his mess before I saw him dropping his head onto the table.

“Can you wake me up in an hour?” he muttered, voice muffled by the crook of his elbow. “I have to meet my father then.”

1/4

Chapter 68

Istared

he damn

1blinked, once. Twice.

time since he walked into this pack like a storm in boots, I felt… off

I said, slowly.

head. Just gave the smallest

meeting and then he’ll be pissed, and then I’ll have to deal with “that” on top of everything else,

something

and disbelief, as this wolf of a man–this smug, scarred, insufferable menace who’d just turned my morning into a living hell–curled over a cafeteria table like a stray mutt who had nowhere else to

kind of psychopath pulls the pin on a social grenade, drops it in the middle of

tighter

snoring I’m going to stab him

my weight, teeth grit, heat rising again in my neck and chest. I should leave. Let him miss his meeting. Let him deal with the fallout. I didn’t *owe* him

But I didn’t move.

the building urge to kick the leg of his chair out from under him, he’s my only

mean

mean

definitely didn’t

had locked from standing too long. My head hurt from clenching my jaw. And

It was stupid.

It was dangerous.

time since yesterday

him–arms crossed, back stiff, like I was just giving

myself I’d leave in

I didn’t.

minutes turned into ten. Ten

like

2/4

Chapter 68

fighting me.

I blinked once.

And didn’t blink again.

Voices blurred. Chairs scraped somewhere

And then-

“BANG.

under me, the legs skidding an inch on the

heart slamming against my ribs, breath caught

floor, empty. His head lifted slow, groggy,

Grayson stood over us.

the strain in his bones. His jaw was tight, mouth pressed in a line so sharp it could’ve cut me. Fury didn’t just show in his eyes–it radiated off him, thick

need to talk

to Riot.

was rough. Like he hadn’t spoken in hours because he’d been grinding his teeth through

eyes, yawned like this wasn’t already a

his hair, the strands sticking out in chaotic waves. “Didn’t know

Grayson’s stare didn’t shift.

again, eyes snapping to mine.

dropped low on the word *please*. But there was nothing soft about

opened my mouth–but Riot beat me

loud crack echoing

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