Page 26 of Knot What I Expected

Is she a normal? Human?

No.

Maybe.

Fuck if I know. Every time I decide I imagined it, I remember the way her scent changed when I asked if she was okay.

The way something inside her seemed to pull back. Like she’s gotten real used to hiding. And Monster noticed it too.

Of course he fucking did.

The bastard notices everything about Gabriella.

Okay, so I know she isn’t just human. Or at least I’m almost sure of it.

But in my world, we don’t ask another supernatural what they are when they clearly don’t want to share.

It’s fucking rude.

More than rude.

It can be dangerous.

Some creatures survive because nobody knows exactly what they are. Some bloodlines stay hidden because humans aren’t the only assholes capable of hunting something different.

So there’s a rule.

Not written.

Not spoken.

But everybody knows it.

You don’t expose another supernatural. You don’t force someone to reveal what they are. You sure as fuck don’t go sniffing around secrets they’re trying to keep buried.

And Gabriella is definitely keeping something buried. Which really fucking bothers me.

It shouldn’t.

But it does.

Why won’t she tell me?

I stop inspecting the length of hose stretched across the gravel and stare at it.

What the fuck?

Why would she tell me?

I’m not her fucking boyfriend.

We ain’t chummy like buddies shooting the shit over a brewski, for fuck’s sake. And we aren’t having sleepovers and doing each other’s hair while she whispers her deepest secrets into my ear.

Though, to be honest, the idea of a sleepover with Gabby gets me hard in all the wrong places.

Just picturing her in my cabin—in my bed, those dark curls spread over my pillow, that soft body tucked against mine, her scent all over my fucking sheets—makes me goddamn feral.

Mine.