Page 25 of Knot So Fast
Kieran glances at me with raised eyebrows.
"Do you even remember what I actually do for work?"
I pause, searching through the foggy mess that passes for my long-term memory these days.
Nothing comes up except vague impressions and that nagging sense of familiarity that I get around certain people.
"Nope," I admit with a sweetness that I know probably sounds patronizing. "But refresh my memory."
He gives me a look that's equal parts exasperated and amused, like I've just asked him to explain quantum physics to a toddler.
"Kieran hates wasting oxygen on explanations," Luke helpfully supplies. "Fair warning."
I cross my arms and fix Kieran with my most determined stare.
"Well, sucks to be you, because you'll have to tell me what you do for a living or we're not getting to my place." To emphasize my point, I reach over and press the emergency stop button, causing the elevator to jerk to a halt between floors.
Luke immediately groans like I've just sentenced him to death by torture.
"Do we have to do this now? Can't we wait until we're somewhere with coffee and the ability to escape if this goes badly?"
"Yes, we have to do this now," I say firmly. "And why are you being so chill with this Alpha anyway? Tell your Beta senses to man the fuck up and be protective or suspicious or something."
Luke pinches the bridge of his nose like he's fighting off a migraine.
"God, I'm reminded what a pain in the ass you are, especially without all your memories to give you context for situations like this."
"I don't want to hear that from you of all people," I counter, scowling at him. "You're supposed to be on my side here."
We're both glaring at each other now, locked in one of our typical stubborn standoffs, when Kieran simply cuts through the tension by answering the original question.
"I'm a racing instructor," he says, meeting my gaze directly. "I teach rich kids how not to kill themselves in expensive cars they don't deserve to drive."
The way he says it makes it clear he has zero enthusiasm for his job, but at least now I understand why he was at the track this morning.
I study his expression, looking for clues about why someone who clearly knows how to handle himself around cars and racing would be stuck teaching spoiled brats instead of doing something he actually enjoys.
"Happy?" he asks, one eyebrow raised in challenge.
I pout slightly but remove my hand from the emergency stop button, allowing the elevator to resume its climb toward my floor.
"Doesn't seem like you like it," I mutter, unable to shake the feeling that there's more to this story.
The elevator comes to a smooth stop at my floor, and when the doors slide open, Kieran walks out ahead of us.
As he does, he answers my observation.
"I don't."
He leaves it at that, walking toward my apartment door like he knows exactly where he's going.
Luke and I share a look that's equal parts confusion and resignation before following him down the hallway.
Kieran reaches my door first and stands there waiting, hands casually shoved into his pockets like this is the most normal thing in the world.
"Do you have a key to my place too?" I ask, only half-joking at this point. Nothing would surprise me anymore.
He doesn't answer directly, but there's a cunning smirk playing at the corners of his mouth that makes my stomach flip in ways I'm not ready to examine.
