Page 51 of Knot What I Expected

Because her secrets aren't driving me away. They’re pulling me closer.

I want to know why she looks over her shoulder sometimes. Why exhaustion clings to her. Why she’s working two jobs. What she is. Who hurt her. Who the fuck taught her she had to handle everything alone.

And most of all, I want to know who I have to fucking kill.

Yessss.

Shit.

I wrestle with my beast for control. Because one thing I do know is that none of those answers will change the one thing becoming harder to deny every time I see her.

I want Gabriella Santos.

Want those lush curves against me.

Want that smart mouth turned on me.

Want her scent in my cabin and her laughter in my ears.

Fuck, I even want to know what she looks like first thing in the morning when she’s half asleep and doesn’t have all those defenses locked into place.

Mine.

My fingers loosen around her wrist. Not because I want to release her. Because I need to remember she gets a choice.

Always.

I lean closer instead.

“Outside.”

She blinks.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“I’m working.”

“Gimme five minutes.”

“No.”

“Gabby.”

“Don’t ‘Gabby’ me.”

A couple of heads turn.

I don’t give a shit.

Let them look.

Actually—

Monster growls.

Maybe don’t fucking look.