Page 42 of Switched

He’s never heard of Sapphire Faris, and he’d probably think she was boring if he had.

I might look like my ballsy twin, and we have a whole bunch of stuff in common, but we’re nowhere close to being the same kind of person. I’m Little Miss Cautious. I take my suppressants every day, and I make sure I never do anything to attract unwanted attention.

I date Betas and I don’t go looking for trouble.

This guy has trouble written all over him, because of who he is, and who he thinks I am.

I can’t believe how badly I want to feel his lips on mine.

How much I want him to show me what it’s like to take an Alpha’s knot.

I stay very still, watching him while my breathing quickens.

It doesn’t matter how much I want to, I’m not going to move any closer to the sexy Alpha with murder in his darkly pretty eyes.

Chapter twenty-one

Bishop

The stab of pain when Scarlett admits she was dating some random musician is nothing compared to hearing what that asshole did to hurt her. Anger bubbles up inside me, turning quickly into rage and feeling ready to boil over. I want to use the feeling to burn him. Whoever messed her around, he has no idea the world of hurt that’s in store for him.

“Who is he?” I ask, fully aware that I’m growling a demand through gritted teeth right now.

She blinks at me and presses her lips together.

I wait. Giving her time but needing to know.

“You don’t know him,” she tells me, her voice quiet.

Shit. I’ve scared her.

She sounds strange again.

No fucking shit, dumbass.

You just sat here planning a stranger’s murder inside your head while she was probably trying to figure out if she could make a run for it before the psycho sitting across from her could make a move.

I seriously need to calm the hell down.

She doesn’t look scared, exactly, and I’ll take that as a good sign, but if I don’t get a grip on my emotions, I’m going to mess things up before our true mate gets a chance to see why she should be with us.

I look down and see melted chocolate bleeding through my fingers.

Damn it. I’ve made a mess.

The dark liquid drips onto my jeans and I let out a soft curse.

“Oh no,” Scarlett murmurs.

“I need to go clean this up,” I tell her, barely able to concentrate as I get to my feet.

The melting candy feels gross in my fist, and I really don’t want to drip it all over the carpets.

I put my fist against my chest, wrapping the bottom of my T-shirt around it.

Scarlett gets to her feet and dashes to the door.

My heart stops until I realize she’s holding the door open for me.

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