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Salvatore laughs. “Oh, so, we’re in a mood today. Good. I was hoping you were. I love coming to talk to you and having my head ripped off. Hell, why don’t we take it a step further and give each other pet names?”
When I glance over at him again, there is a mischievous look in his eyes. The corner of his mouth twitches and there are fine lines creasing his sun-kissed skin.
“What the hell are you talking about?” I ask, closing my book and setting it to the side. As I turn to face him, his smirk only grows.
“Pet names. Or nicknames. It’s what people give each other. Or we could go with code names since somebody out there wants you dead.”
”Alright,” I say slowly, not sure if I should play along or not. “What is my nickname?”
“Mantis.”
My eyebrows furrow. “Mantis. Why the hell are you going to call me that?”
He shrugs, amusement clear in his eyes. “The females decapitate the males after they’ve fucked and then eat the sorry bastards. It seemed fitting for you.”
Even though I want to laugh, I roll my eyes and smother the smile.
“You wish you were so lucky,” I say, standing up and crossing my arms. “Sorry to disappoint.”
He chuckles and shakes his head, his gaze drifting down my body before returning to my face. “Not a disappointment. But I’m also not willing to risk it ever again.”
“And here I was thinking we weren’t going to talk about that.”
Salvatore hops over the fence with ease and strides toward my house. “Let’s go. We have training to do.”
I follow behind him, curious as he leads the way through the house. “What do you mean?”
“I have training planned for you and we’re already late for that. So, if you would be so kind as to get ready to go, that would be great.”
“Holy shit, you do have manners.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose and turns to face me. When he looks at me, my heart skips a beat. There is something in that gaze that’s different than it was before his birthday. I can’t place my finger on what’s changed, but it feels like something has shifted between us.
“Brielle, go get into something you can fight in. Stop standing here and irritating me. I’ve got a million other things I should be doing right now.”
I take off, not wanting to argue with him about it.
Excitement courses through me at the thought of going out and training with him. Though Brennan has taught me to fight and shoot over the years, it’s been a long time since I went out.
Admittedly, I’m not the best fighter and I could use a sparring partner.
By the time I rush back downstairs in a pair of shorts and a crop top, Salvatore is already out front and standing by his truck. I lock up the house before joining him, heat pooling in my core at the way he looks at my body.
“Where are we going?” I ask as we get in the truck.
“Don’t worry about it,” he says as he starts the engine and turns up the radio.
Salvatore drums his fingers against the wheel as he drives, keeping time with the beat. I keep to myself, scrolling through my photography accounts and responding to comments.
“How do you even make money?” he asks, looking at me from the corner of his eye as he turns the music down.
“I sell some of my photographs as prints. Other ones get put onto products and sold through one of those print-on-demand sites that’s linked up to my website. I’ve written a few beginner-level photography guides too. Those sell alright.”
Salvatore looks at me when we come to a red light. “And the people who are after you aren’t able to track any of this?”
I shake my head and tuck my phone in my pocket. “I’m good with computers. I know how to hide my location. Make it look like I’m in Bali when I’m really here, for example. I also wait a few weeks after taking a picture to post it. Makes it harder to figure out where I am if the pictures are old.”
Salvatore nods and turns onto one of the back roads leading out of town. “So, you’re smart about it, then. You don’t think that there is any way that the people who are after you aren’t following your online presence?”
