Page 46 of The Hunted
“Partially.” She picked at her shirt and they lapsed into a silence that felt heavy.
He thought he was impossible to get information out of. She was like a steel vault, and it only made him want to pick her locks more.
Maybe I should start off easy.
“What’s your favorite food.” She opened her mouth and he cut her off. “Don’t say chocolate, that’s not food. It’s a snack.”
She held up a finger. “First of all, it’s creepy that you knew I was going to say chocolate, but it is in fact food. It’s nourishing and that is the point of food. Second,” another finger went up, “if I don’t have to cook it, lasagna, if I am cooking, tacos.” Her smile was big and her eyes widened. “Tacos are seriously the best things ever.”
Santino chuckled. “When I win our sparring match, I’ll be sure to take you to get tacos on our date.”
She scoffed. “No one here makes them good. If you want tacos, I’ll make them for you, after I win, of course. You can look at it as my way to make you feel better after I’ve kicked your ass.” She nudged his shoulder.
“So sure you’re going to win, princess.” He shook his head, taking in how relaxed she seemed now. There was still this chaotic energy that always surrounded her but now that he wasn’t asking about her time in foster homes she seemed a little more willing to open up to him. “When’s your birthday?” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he flinched.
He wanted her to keep talking and keep opening up to him, but was that a lazy question? That was a question people still asked in the beginning, right?
Did that seem too much like small talk, and was that considered annoying?
When he had other women approach him, those had been the questions they asked as a means to know him. But he hated it when they did it, knowing they were just trying to find ways to make themselves more likable to him. He hadn’t returned those questions with other women because he hadn’t cared or been curious about anyone before.
“April fourth, I’m an Aries, and my favorite color is purple but sometimes blue or red.” She sounded almost bored as she answered his questions.
Santino rubbed the back of his neck, feeling silly. The energy that surrounded her seemed to dim, and he felt like he was fumbling this conversation in getting her to open up to him.
“Why an advice columnist?” he questioned, trying a different route. She looked surprised and he chuckled. “That information is on the internet, princess. Oh, and my birthday is August fifteenth, don’t know what that makes me, and my favorite color is black. I usually like sunflower seeds and iced tea as a snack, but food? Anything Italian.” He patted his stomach, realizing he hadn’t eaten since earlier and was actually a little hungry now.
Tailing his mark had left him little room for actual food. The sunflower seeds in the center console had held him over, but now he could go for some stuffed shells or a chicken parm.
I wondered if anyone found the body yet? Or if the Reaper found the little note I left behind?
“That makes you a Leo. We’re both fire signs, though they say your sun sign doesn’t really tell you about yourself. You need your whole chart read.” She shrugged. “I don’t subscribe to all of that, or at least most of it because I can’t retain the information. It’s a lot, the houses matter and the degrees the sign is in. It’s really complicated and that’s western astrology. But as for why an advice columnist it kind of landed on my lap.”
He looked her over. “Isn’t that something that can get you sued? Wouldn’t you need credentials out the ass to have a job like that? I’m not saying you’re not capable, just curious how it happened,” he rushed on, hoping he didn’t offend her.
“I would take offense to that. But…,” she stretched out the word, giving him a pointed look, “since I know you ran a light background check on me, you already know what shiny pieces of paper line my walls and which ones don’t.” She grumbled, “And as far as this job falling in my lap, when I moved back here a couple of years ago, they had a job posting for a receptionist. I jumped on it, because I like food and money. One day they did this event for their subscribers that allowed their followers to send in questions they needed advice on.”
Her gaze dropped to her lap, and she picked at a loose string on her shirt. “I overheard the person who they had answering the questions respond to one of them with the most absurd advice anyone has ever giving someone. I jumped in, unintentionally. Long story short, I got positive feedback from that and I’ve been in the position ever since.” She shrugged like it was no big deal, but he thought it was.
Advice was tricky. Most people, while they asked for it, did what they wanted to do anyway. The fact she was in that position for a long time spoke volumes of her ability to read people through their words.
Silva still hadn’t looked up at him to meet his eyes. He watched her continue to fiddle with the loose string. He felt his palms itch to reach out and touch her, to comfort her. He didn’t know if this was a nervous tick because it was the most she said about herself in a short time or if she was nervous about how he would respond to her job.
“That’s pretty cool.” Santino reached for her. His fingers touched her chin and turned her to face him. The warmth in her eyes wrapped around him and had him moving to grip the side of her neck. “I guess you can say you’re amazing at giving advice.” She smirked and nodded. “So what’s a guy gotta do if he has a question and needs advice from the best?”
Her hand wrapped around his wrist, her full lips pulling back into a smile that rivaled the brightness of the moon in the sky. “He’d have to write his question in to the magazine and hope it gets picked.”
“Damn, it’s like that?” he scoffed, pretending to be offended but loved every second of her teasing.
“If you’re good at something, never do it for free,” she whispered, her lips barely a breath away from his own.
How had they gotten closer, and was that his heartbeat sounding like a drum in his chest or hers?
“I should go.” Her words made his body tighten. He wasn’t ready for them to part ways, not when he had so many more questions he wanted to ask her.
“Can I walk you to your door?” He tried to keep his voice even, trying to mask the desperation clawing at his skin because their time was coming to an end.
This was a new feeling for him, one he wasn’t sure he liked but needed to explore to understand.
