Saint

31

The sunlight is the devil, and I want it to die. It’s shining right against my eyelids, forcing me from sleep. Slowly, I open my eyes and gaze around the room, momentarily disoriented as I realize I’m not in my own bed. I stretch and roll over to find Saint asleep on his back, his arm thrown over his head.

Propping up on my elbow, I gaze down at him with a soft grin. God, he’s beautiful. I love to watch him sleep. He’s been sleeping a lot more now, since we’ve started this thing. It makes me happy to know that I’ve had some part in easing his insomnia. At least a bit. His expression is soft, his long lashes fa

His hand suddenly shoots up and captures mine.

“I’ve got a better place this could go.” He slowly leads my hand down his torso and slips it beneath the covers. He uses his fingers to wrap mine around his hard dick.

I bite my lip and begin to stroke. His eyes open and he locks eyes with me. We stare at each other as I work him with my hand. When the urge to kiss him overpowers me, I give in and press my lips to his. He lets out a grunt and comes in my grip.

After another kiss, I crawl out of his bed and creep into his bathroom to wash my hands.

“Who’s James?”

I freeze, the question coming out of nowhere and slamming into me like a runaway city bus. Reaching for a hand towel, I dry my hands and don’t offer an answer right away. I walk to the bathroom doorway and meet his eyes. He’s still lounging in bed, his back against the headboard.

“Why do you want to know about James?” I ask in a soft voice.

“You kept saying his name in your sleep.”

I release a deep, shaky breath. Fuck. Had I known I talked in my sleep, I’d never have stayed over.

“He’s no one,” I insist, turning away from him to find my clothes. He doesn’t say anything for a heartbeat of time, but then I hear him move out of the bed to wander around the room as well.

“Doesn’t seem like no one,” he comments after a few moments.

My shoulders stiffen. “Let it go, Saint. I don’t want to talk about this.”

“Why not? You’ve told me so much already. What could be worse than a meth dealing mom on the run?”

A lot, as it happens. My mom’s really on the tip of the fucked-up iceberg, and James is part of that huge chunk of ice hiding beneath the surface of the water.

“Haven’t I told you enough?” I ask with a shrug. “What more do you really want to know about me anyway?”

I feel him come up behind me before his hands clutch my shoulders.

“Is he an ex?” he whispers in my ear. His voice is hard, his grip tight. “The last guy you fucked? Some asshole waiting for you in Bum Fuck Georgia?”

He’s jealous again, but the ironic thing is, James isn’t the one Saint should be jealous of. Turning to face him, I’m startled by the way his eyes blaze when I meet them.

“Would you care if I had someone back home?” I can’t help but ask. It’s a stupid question, really, given the topic at hand, but I’m yearning to find out just what he feels for me.

One of his hands moves toward my collarbone.

“What do you think?” he growls. “If some fucker’s playing games with my pussy, of course I give a fuck.”

“Stop talking like I’m some object, Saint. And … and James and I were never a thing.”

His expression relaxes, but his fingers remain in place, and he rubs a strand of my hair between his fingers. “Then what was he? Why do you dream about him? This isn’t the first time you’ve said his name.”

I stare up at him, my mind scrambling for what to do. The temptation to tell him everything is right there, stronger than ever. I’ve already shared so much with him, and he’s been surprisingly accepting of it all. I think it helps that he’s as broken on the inside as I am, just broken in different ways. If anyone would keep my secret…

“A year ago, my house caught on fire, and James was stuck inside it. He died, Saint. James is dead so you have nothing to worry about. Happy?”

The words are out of my mouth before I fully realize I’m saying them, and then they hang in the air between us like a miasma. His brow furrows, and he stares at me in disbelief. For a second, I don’t think he fully understands what I’ve just said.

“Huh,” he says at last, then turns from me to walk to his closet. My eyes go wide as my jaw drops. That’s it? That’s all he has to say?

“Umm, did you hear me?” I ask, moving after him as I pull on my shirt.

“Yeah.” He disappears into his walk-in closet and starts digging around for clothes.

“A-and … it doesn’t bother you at all?” I move to the door and peer inside after him.

He glances over his shoulder at me and shrugs. “Why should it? Shit happens. It’s not like you murdered the guy.”

My lips part in shock. It’s not like I didn’t murder him either.

“How are you so cavalier about this?”

He pulls on a pair of jeans, then digs out a black t-shirt before turning back to face me with it clutched in his hand.

“It is what it is. It happened. It’s done. It’s not my problem and doesn’t make you less fuckable.”

Oh, hello again Mr. Hyde, I thought I screwed you away…

He pushes past me, falling back into silence. I can’t help but watch him for several moments, completely baffled by his response. It wasn’t at all what I expected. It’s not really acceptance. He just doesn’t care.

I don’t really know how to feel about that.

“Okay, Saint.” I think it’s time to go. The atmosphere in the room is weird now.

Almost unbearable.

He doesn’t respond, so I turn for the door without another word.

“I’ll see you at the swim meet tonight,” he calls before I’m able to step out into the hall.

Blinking, I turn back to him. “Al-alright.”

He smirks and nods his head, then pulls his shirt on. With slow, hesitant movements, I shut the door and walk away from his room, feeling stu

My blood is humming with anticipation as I stretch, readying for my first official race at my first swim meet of the season. I’ve been getting more and more excited all day long waiting for this, and I haven’t even had room in my mind to think of Saint and his strange reaction to my confession about James this morning. In fact, as I pull my leg back to stretch out my quad, I realize I haven’t seen him all day. He wasn’t in gym today, though I guess he did tell me he’d see me tonight.

I wonder where he is.

“Ellis, you’re up!” Coach Friedricks shouts.

I jump to attention and hurry forward. There’s a decent-sized crowd filling the stands around the pool, and I quickly scan it to find my friends. Loni and Henry are in the front row, and they wave at me excitedly when we make eye contact. I let my eyes wander some more, and I find Gabe and Liam sitting near the top of the bleachers, but Saint’s not with them. I frown, momentarily distracted as I search for him. The other swimmers are starting to move toward the blocks, and I know I need to follow them, but I just need to see him…

There! I spot him standing at the end of the bleachers near the door. Our eyes meet and his nostrils flare as he gives me a solemn nod. I bite my lip to hide my smile and excitement that he’s here, not even caring that his odd expression doesn’t change. I shouldn’t care this much, I know that. It’s not exactly healthy, what we have, I know that too, but in this moment, I can’t make myself care about any of that.