Saint

“What are you doing here?” I ask, exasperated.

He arches a brow and shrugs. “Just doing what I’m told.”

“Who told you to watch me?” I know the answer, but I need him to say it out loud.

His focus drops to his phone, and it’s clear he’s bored already. “Saint, who the fuck else?”

I clench my hands at my sides, my irritation spiking. “If he’s so concerned about me, why doesn’t he just come here himself.”

Gabe shrugs again. “How should I know? Busy, I guess.”

Bullshit.

Complete and utter bullshit.

Why is Saint doing this? Why does everything always have to be a game with him?

Well, I’m done playing.

I spin on my heel and head for the door.

“Whoa! Where’re you going?” Gabe calls after me.

“To rip Saint apart,” I answer back.

He lets out a startled cry of protest, but I’m already out the door and marching down the hall. I’m tired of this. Tired of Saint’s mixed messages and total disregard for my thoughts and feelings. Savior or not, I’m tired of his mind games.

I make my way through campus toward his building, and by the time I reach it, I’ve worked myself up into a state of fury. Slipping inside, I step into the elevator and ride it up to his floor. I know where he lives. I know where they all live. Loni is a hub of information and seems to know just about everything about everybody.

When the elevator reaches his floor, I continue my march toward his dorm. I can’t help but notice how much nicer this building is than mine. It’s newer and more modern in design, with more space between each dorm. Reaching his door, I don’t pause to think and begin pounding on it with my fist.

It takes a few moments for the door to fly open and I’m locked into his icy blue glare.

“Ellis? What the fuck do you want?” he growls.

I’m momentarily struck speechless because he’s standing in front of me shirtless, wearing nothing but a pair of low riding jeans. My breath rushes from my mouth as my eyes greedily drink in every chiseled ridge of his abs and defined chest. He’s even got that V thing at the bottom of his stomach that I always thought was so sexy on guys.

Smoke suddenly hits my face, and I sputter and gasp as my face turns red with mortification. I was just ogling the bastard so blatantly, there’s no way he didn’t notice. He takes another drag of the joint in his hand and readies to blow more smoke in my face.

“Stop that!” I snap.

He cocks a light brown brow and turns his head to release the smoke away from me. When he looks at me again, his lips are quivering, as if he’s holding in laughter. “I’ll ask you again, Ellis. What are you doing here?”

I won’t be distracted or intimidated. I came here for a reason, and damn it, I’m going to see it through.

Squaring my shoulders, I hiss, “I’ve been wanting to talk to you all week.”

He releases a heavy sigh, as if put out, then steps away from the doorway to give me room to enter. I step into his personal domain cautiously, uncertain what I might find inside. Piles of money? Drugs? Hello Kitty memorabilia? The body of his last victim?

I’m a little surprised by how normal his dorm room looks. Well, normal by uber-rich kid standards. He’s got furniture I’m sure is made of real leather, a flat-screen TV that dominates a third of one of his walls, and an oriental rug that probably costs more than a year of my and Carley’s rent back in Atlanta. His room is sleek, masculine, and tidy, though there’s the definite scent of weed and boy lingering in the air.

Damn it. Laurel was right. I am living in the shitty dorm.

“So, are you going to tell me what you want, or just stare at my shit like an idiot all night?”

I squeeze my eyes closed, fighting back my frustration as I pivot around to face him. Offering him a small, polite smile, I fold my hands in front of myself and try to appear calm and collected.

“Well, I’ve been wanting to say this all week, but you’ve been avoiding me for some reason,” I begin in a syrupy-sweet voice. “I wanted to thank you for saving me on Monday. It was really—”

“Unless you’re going to thank me by putting your mouth on my cock, you can save it and get out,” he replies, cutting me off.

My jaw drops and I stare at him in utter disbelief.

“What the fuck is your problem?” I demand to know at length.

He tilts his head and speaks in a sarcastic tone. “What problem? I don’t have a problem.”

“Like fuck you don’t! For some godforsaken reason, you appear to have a problem with me, but you’ve never bothered to tell me what it is.”

“Does the word golden-fucking-delicious ring a bell?” He sneers. “But you wa

“God, do you hear yourself?” Before I know exactly what I’m doing, I stalk over to him until we’re toe-to-toe. “If my presence is such a damn problem for you, then why don’t you just leave me alone? I’m not forcing you to be around me all the time!”

“What do you call barging into my room late at night, trying to push your half-ass thank you onto me?” He takes another drag of his joint as he glares down at me.

“It wasn’t half-assed, I’m genuinely thankful you saved my life!” I shout, jabbing my fingertip at his chest. Holy shit, he’s hard as a rock, and my throat goes so dry, I’m forced to clear it before continuing my rant. “But damn it, I wish it hadn’t been you. Anyone else would’ve been better. I wouldn’t feel so goddamn indebted to them.”

“Well, you can pay your debt by getting the fuck out.”

He turns from me, as if that’s the end of our discussion, but I’m not done with him. Far from it.

“You know, I came here trying to be nice.” Not really. “To maybe put an end to the animosity between us.” Lie. “You’re the asshole that refuses to let go of the grudge you’ve got against me. I’m just trying to exist here, so why won’t you let me?”

“Did James have this hard a time making you leave?”

I feel like I’ve just taken a brick straight to the face. Why’d he say that name? How does he know about James?

“What … what did you say?” I choke out, panic shaking my voice.

He faces me, a revolting smirk playing at the same lips I’ve stupidly fantasized about for days.

“He was probably glad to be rid of you, right? So, tell me, how’d he do it? How’d he get your clingy ass to back the fuck off?”

I can’t think. My body moves on pure instinct. I eat up the distance between us with a few short steps, and suddenly my open hand slams into the side of his face. It’s like hitting a steel wall, but his eyes widen briefly in surprise.

“The fuck—”

“How do you know that name?” I hiss, my heart racing and my breathing ragged. “How the fuck do you know that name?”

His eyes narrow, his look of surprise gone. “Who is he?” he demands, in that same voice he’d used when he accused me of sleeping with Liam. When I hollow in my cheeks and shake my head, his lips curve cruelly. As if he finds my anger amusing. “You said it when you came to on Monday.”

I don’t remember that. I don’t remember anything accept the feel of his lips against mine and his air rushing into my lungs.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

I need to get out of here. I need to go, before he starts digging. Saint is always looking for ammunition to use against me, and James is a nuclear bomb.