Page 10 of Honorable Convictions
“I apologize, Venerable Knight. I was daydreaming.”
“Save that for after class,” VK Ruarc ordered. “Murphy needs a partner.”
“Right,” Mitchell said and stood in front of Pierson, who was staring at a point somewhere past his right shoulder. “You ready, Murphy?”
“I’m not the one who was delving into fantasy in the middle of class,” Pierson stated tightly. VK Ruarc left them, no doubt to give Wade some helpful advice since Trista had knocked him on his ass.
“Maybe I didn’t want to hurt you again, Blondie.”
Whether it was the words or his tone, Pierson’s eyes met his and there was nothing to read in his flat expression. “Let’s just do this shit.”
“Whatever you want.”
Letting out a huff, Pierson raised his hands and tried to hit Mitchell. It was easy to smack his arm out of the way and though Pierson was his mate, he refused to give him any quarter. Mitchell swung his foot out, then struck Pierson with a blow to his midsection. Staggering a few steps, Pierson barely managed to stay on the mat.
“Come at me, Blondie. Stop holding back.”
His mouth tightening into a line, Pierson charged forward but nothing about his attack was coordinated, and seconds later he landed on his butt. Mitchell reached to help him up, but Pierson slapped the proffered limb out of his face and bounded to the balls of his feet.
“Fight me,” Pierson demanded.
“Relax, this is supposed to be friendly competition.”
Pierson tried to get in a punch, but Mitchell moved deftly out of reach. “Everyone knows I’m terrible at this. I don’t need you to make it worse.”
“Make it worse? What the hell are you talking about?”
“Stop patronizing me by trying to help me up,” Pierson ordered when Mitchell landed a blow south of his collarbone.
“I do that for everyone, not because we’re—”
“Don’t you dare say it,” Pierson said through gritted teeth, finally moving quickly enough to shove Mitchell.
“Why not?”
“You know why not. We’re supposed to be focused on training, not that other stuff.”
“That other stuff is supposed to be the foundation of our lives.”
“You don’t need to talk so loud; someone’s going to hear you.”
Mitchell’s boot connected with Pierson’s hip hard enough that he once again slammed into the mat. For once, he had no remorse about taking him down. There was nothing wrong with announcing their matebond, and it pissed him off that they had to keep quiet for no good reason other than Pierson’s hard head.
“You getting up, Blondie?”
With a glare, Pierson rose. “I hate this shit,” he muttered.
“Well, I hate your stupid high test scores.”
Pierson nailed him in the shin, and Mitchell’s wince made him smile. “I’m sorry that you don’t apply yourself to our written stuff the way that I do. You apparently prefer to practice fighting.”
Mitchell was stunned speechless for a moment, and it allowed Pierson to sneak in another blow he should’ve blocked. Since the first day Pierson had achieved a perfect grade, Mitchell spent every available hour reading and studying their assignments. There was still some energy devoted to the gym, but the bulk of his focus was trying to get anywhere near Pierson’s results. “Iamtrying, Blondie.”
“Really? Because it seems like you care more about hanging out with your friends than worrying about what kind of assignment you’re going to wind up with.”
“There’s nothing wrong with building relationships with the other recruits,” Mitchell retorted, shoving Pierson to the edge of the mat. Mitchell was slightly impressed that he didn’t land on his ass again.
“It’s a waste of time.”
