Page 50 of Wings of Destiny
Seth’s eyes twinkled as they met mine across the room, knowing damn well that I’d guilt trip the shit out of myself. He flashed a smile at me and my cheeks flushed.
“Then let’s see it, Sweetheart,” Seth rang out. Heat washed over me, and his smile grew into a full-on Cheshire. Libby, giddy as her laughter spilled out from her.
Sweetheart?
What in the hell is that about?
I flipped him and Libby off.
Prick.
I lined myself up and sized up Derik’s relaxed stance; arms resting at his side, legs slightly parted, boredom etched across his features even as his pupils tracked my every breath. The moment I waited for came, his attention briefly darting to where Libby and Seth were still chatting. I swung my arm out, Derik without hesitation, reached for it, opening up his stance while doing so. I took my other arm and swung upward, directly into his chin, his teeth clang together.
Ha! Victory!
Derik’s eyes lit up. He snaked his foot behind my ankle and pulled it out from under me. Causing me to lose my balance and sending my ass back to the floor. My small victory evaporated.
“Son of a bitch.”
Derik shrugged, turning on his heel and striding to the kitchen to grab his own mug of coffee. “What can I say, Snow, I got skills.”
Libby snickered. “Yeah, right, you’re just butthurt Erin actually landed a hit on you.”
He sipped his coffee. “She got lucky. I was getting bored handing her ass to her all day; thought I’d throw her one.”
“Yeah right,” she snorted. “She caught you off guard. Or are you too afraid to admit to a moment of defeat, Oh Mighty One?”
“Pssh, whatever.”
Is that a hint of pink I see?
“So,” I said as I wiped non-existent dust from my sweats. “Now that I successfully wounded Derik’s fragile ego, is it break time?”
A laugh escaped Seth. “From sparring, yeah. But we gotta try shaking out some of your mojo.” I frowned at him.
“We gotta figure out how to control it and run some practice with it. Ya know, outside of when the shitheads are actively trying to gut us. Might be a little handy.”
“Fine, but I’m stealing your coffee first.”
“You’ve had half the pot already.” His brow arched.
“Exactly. Only half.”
“Have you even eaten anything?”
“No.”
“You need to eat, Pipsqueak.”
I threw my hands on my hips, staring Seth down. “Make me.”
“Maybe I will, hangry-ass.” Seth smirked, crossing his arms over his chest, sun-kissed—no sun-worshiped—biceps bulging,and tight-ass muscle shirt perfectly accentuating his pecs. I salivated.
I licked my lips, my gaze lingered before dragging it upward. “You know, I think I changed my mind,” my eyelashes fluttered, giving my best impression of being sultry. “I think I am hungry.”
I flashed Seth a smile. His eyes darkened, my pulse quickened.
That might’ve backfired.