Page 33 of Theirs to Hunt
“Call sign from the Navy. They said I didn’t need to yell to take control of a room. Just walked in and everyone followed.”
“That tracks,” I mutter, bumping my speed up, mostly so I don’t accidentally moan in public.
I keep jogging. Too aware of him beside me. Clean sweat. Leather. Something woodsy. He’s not ogling. He’s assessing.
“You train here a lot?” I ask. Not because I’ve been obsessively replaying our last encounter or anything.
“Often enough,” he says, eyes tracking a couple stretching near the mats. “It’s quiet. Local. No influencers.”
“I don’t know. You give off serious fitness cult recruiter vibes.”
He tilts his head, mock-wounded. “You wound me, Bambi.”
“That’s not actually my name.”
His gaze slides to mine. “I know.”
Something in the way he says it makes my stomach flip. Like he knows more than he should. Like he’s peeling back layers I didn’t invite him to touch.
“I was going to grab food after this,” I blurt. “You hungry?”
His grin curves slow, dangerous. “Depends on what’s on the menu.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Are you flirting or threatening to eat me?”
“Can’t it be both?”
God help me, I laugh. He does too. Like he’s relieved I cracked the tension.
“Come on,” he says, straightening. “There’s a place down the block. Small, dark, probably doesn’t serve salad. You’ll love it.”
I slow the treadmill and hit stop. “You don’t even know what I…”
“Not yet,” he says, leaning in. “But I’ve got good instincts.”
As we head out the gym’s front doors, I feel the hair on the back of my neck lift. The streets are quiet. But I know New Orleans. I know when I’m being watched.
I lean a little closer to Reign. Testing. Tempting.
Is someone following me?
I thought for sure Reign would be Brooks.
The hairs on my neck are standing up again, like I’m being watched from afar. I rub my arms briskly to shake the chill.
Let them watch.
They’re about to see exactly what it looks like when I pick my predator.
And maybe they’ll flinch. Or maybe they’ll pounce.
Either way, I’m ready.
But are they?
Chapter twenty-eight
Grayson, Thursday 06:20 p.m.
