Squad 6 | COMPLETED

Chapter 29- Andrew

He smiled, stepping away from the entrance and onto the mat. "Just asking."

"What are you doing here?"

He shrugged. "Came to get some practice."

She raised an eyebrow. "In that case find yourself an empty room. This one's occupied."

He shrugged again. "I don't mind."

She bit her lip, bolting towards Andrew and throwing him to the floor. He stared at her in disbelief. "What was that for?!"

She smirked. "It's my way of knocking a guy off his feet." She checked her nails. "And judging by the lack of reaction to my attack, you need more practice than you think."

He rose, getting up into a low crouch. He looked like a wolf ready to strike. "Oh, we'll see."

Cassie dodged the punch, kicking Andrew in the back. He stumbled forward, stopping himself before falling and turned. "Come on Jackson," she said hopping from foot to foot. "You're letting a girl beat you up."

His eyes locked with hers. She was smiling, daring him to come at her. His cogs turned, a plan forming. He charged, throwing a punch to her right. She grabbed his arm and twisting it behind his back. He stumbled to the ground.

"I win," she said.

He panted, bent on his arms and knees, his hair falling in his eyes. She had relaxed. "No, you don't." He spun around, pulling her foot to the side and.

She fell and Andrew pinned her arms above her head, pulling the knife free from the side of her belt and holding it to her throat.

"You beat up a girl and you pick pocket her while you're at it. That's cruel," she said, looking from the blade to Andrew's eyes, her chest rising steady. His eyes darted from her lips to her neck. If he moved his hand by an inch, he'd slit her throat.

But if he moved his lips...

"I win," he said, dazed, throwing the knife to the side and letting go of her wrists.

She licked her lips.

Her hands shot up from the side and hit Andrew in the elbows, making them buckle.

Their lips met.

Warmth spread through Andrew's body, a strange pull making him want to get closer to Cassie. Closer than he'd ever been. Thoughts of the party and the gala Gomez was attending withered from his head. He kept one of his hands on Cassie's waist. Her hand rested on his chest, holding onto the collar of his shirt, the other one resting on his cheek.

They rolled over again and Andrew heard a cock of a gun.

Cassandra's lips weren't on his anymore.

"I definitely win that one," she whispered in his ear, before her weight was lifted off his body.

He looked up to see a gun pointed at his forehead. He shook his head, sitting up and fixing the hair she had messed up. "Do you beat everyone in sparring by kissing them?" he asked, getting up to his feet.

She pocketed the gun. "Not always."

"I can't believe you just did that just to win." Not that he was complaining. "Not your style."

She shrugged, reaching up to mess his hair again. "Don't do that to your hair. It looks better the way I left it." She stepped away, Andrew's heart dropping into his heels. "Rule number one; distract your opponent."

He laughed, disbelief rising in him. "Are you serious?"

"Do I look like I'm joking?"

"I thought—"