Page 57 of Intense
“I’ll bend you over my knee and cut that attitude out of you. I’ll make you bleed for it.”
Jesus.
My core clenches so hard I forget how to breathe.
“You wouldn’t fucking dare.”
He runs a finger down my arm and I shiver.
“You. Have. No. Idea. Who. I. Am. Love. Do not push me any further. I’ll allow this outburst, once. But this is your one and only pass.”
I try to steady my breath as he backs off.
“I—I…”
He shakes his head.
“Don’t you dare apologize. Own your fucking words. You meant them, didn’t you?”
I stare into his eyes. Searching for something. Anything. But, as usual, there’s nothing there.
“Yes.”
“If you hate working under me so much, leave. I’m not stopping you.”
There it is. The dagger to the gut. The part that always makes me feel disposable. Just like I always end up feeling in the end.
“Maybe I will.”
He nods.
“Good. The whole competition is getting boring. I’m tired of winning.”
Smug bastard.
I hate how much I want to slap him and kiss him all at once.
“I lost by one point last week,” I say through gritted teeth. “And we both know I deserved more. What about saving Conan? Didn’t that count for something? I should have won the entire year for that.”
I’ll never admit it, but I was terrified.
Terrified I’d lose his brother. Terrified I’d lose myself.
“You’re just desperate to beat me, aren’t you?” he says.
I shrug, biting back a grin.
“Maybe.”
He huffs.
“Fine. What about tonight?” he suggests.
I frown.
“What? Find someone to operate on?”
He looks confused for a second. Then rolls his eyes.
