My uniform is still intact, which means I don’t have to race back to my room to change.
All I had to deal with this morning were a bunch of noisy bitches.
And Loni is still my friend, despite knowing the truth about what I’ve done. Right now, that’s one of the only things that matters.
Other than Saint, of course.
Or rather, what Saint and Liam did on Friday night after they dropped me off at his house. As I make my way from class to class, I try to find an opening to talk to him. I can tell he’s avoiding me, however. He dodges me in the halls and doesn’t look at me when we’re sitting in class.
Finally, I manage to catch up to him after history. Our newest substitute asks him to stay after class, so I linger outside the door. He can’t ignore me forever.
I pace back and forth, waiting for him, chewing on my thumbnail until it’s so short that it hurts. Whatever Saint and Liam did, I don’t think they actually hurt Kristyn and her friends. I don’t doubt that Laurel would let me know lightning fast, while placing the blame on me for Saint stooping so low. Which is the type of thing that drives me up the wall.
Girls like Laurel are so quick to lay fault on another female instead of coming to grips with a shithead guy.
My shoulders tense when I hear footsteps coming out of the classroom. The next moment, Saint walks out into the hallway. He immediately stops when he sees me, and irritation slashes his tan features.
“Fuck,” he groans.
“We need to talk.”
“No, I don’t think we do,” he retorts, stalking right past me. I grab his arm without thinking and he freezes. His blue eyes slip down to my hand on him, then he slowly raises them to my face. “Feeling dirty, little masochist? My schedule’s a little full this afternoon, but I could squeeze in a quickie if you need some cock.”
My free fist connects with his shoulder, and he waggles his thick eyebrows. “You know that’s not what I want.”
Folding his arms so that his blazer sleeves ride up just a bit to give me a glimpse of his toned forearms, he stares down at me, stone-faced. “That’s a shame because that’s about all you’re getting from me today.”
“I want to know what happened Friday night,” I say, forging ahead despite his words. “I think I have a right to know.”
“I disagree.” He shrugs, then he turns as if he’s going to walk away from me. As if this conversation is somehow over.
Squeezing my hands into fists, I dart around him to cut him off. “You can’t just ignore me!”
He reaches up to nudge his knuckle over my cheek, and I stand a little taller because my body instantly comes to life beneath his touch. “I’m not ignoring you, beautiful. I’m just ignoring your question. Trust me. It’s for the best.”
“Saint, I…”
He grips my chin between his fingers and presses a kiss to my lips that steals my breath. His tongue pushes into my mouth, and I let out a breathy moan because I can’t help myself. I know what he’s doing, and I hate that it works every fucking time. My mind rushes to catch up to my body and begins yelling at me to not fall for it again. To not go soft and pliant for him, even though his kiss is masterful and makes me weak in the knees.
With a gasp, I manage to break my lips from his, but it doesn’t stop him. He begins raining kisses along my jaw and neck, still determined to distract me.
“Cameras, Saint,” I breathlessly remind him, and before I can say another word, he’s pulling me into an empty classroom, pinning the front of my body against the dry erase board.
Great, I’ll leave the building with Mr. Abbott’s lecture notes transferred to my skirt and legs.
“I know what you’re doing, and it’s not going to work,” I point out when he traces the tip of his nose against my nape.
“Oh, no?” When he grins, I feel it against my neck. He slides one hand down to my ass, then slips it in between my legs from behind. I clench my thighs, but that just traps his fingers against me, and the pressure he’s applying, even through my panties, is so delicious I have to fight not to press my hips into him in a desperate bid for more.
With a cry, I push away from the whiteboard, breaking from his hold. I whirl around to discover he’s staring me up and down with his beautiful mouth hanging open.
“It’s scary when you surprise me,” he eventually says on a low drawl.
Glaring up at him from beneath my lashes, I adjust my uniform and brush my fingertips over my braid. “So, will you tell me what happened Friday night or not?”
He smirks that infuriating smirk of his and shakes his blond head. “That’s still a negative. Only now, there’s just no orgasm to soften the blow.”
I hate when he does this to me. He’s always so demanding when he wants information, but when I want to know something, he’s fucking Fort Knox.
“If you just told me, we wouldn’t have to play these stupid games.”
He nods. “True, but where’s the fun in that?”
“Saint—”
“Let it go, Mallory,” he insists. “You don’t really want to know, anyway, so just let it go.”
Except I can’t let it go. It’s eating away at me inside that he and Liam might’ve done something to someone because of me. I know what they’re capable of, and Saint can be ruthless when it comes to protecting what he views as his.
I can see, though, that I’m not going to get anywhere with him like this. No matter what I say or do, he won’t break. That’s just who he is. He’s the king of his world, and in that mess of a world, I’m just his plaything with no real power to sway him.
“Fine,” I snap, holding my arms wide in surrender. “Don’t tell me. I have other ways of finding out what happened.”
“So long as none of those things involve your cunt, you’re welcome to try,” he chuckles.
Furious, it’s my turn to walk away. I shove past him to storm out of the classroom, thankful when he doesn’t try to stop me. As I make my way outside and breathe in the early spring air, my mind scrambles to figure out my next move. Thankfully, Saint isn’t my end-all-be-all. He was just plan A.
It’s time to go to plan B and not waste any more time on his stubborn ass. He wasn’t the only one there Friday night, after all.
And his partner in crime is usually much easier for me to crack.
That evening, I make my way to the rec center. After a few seconds of building myself up, I enter the pool area for the first time since Jon Eric’s death and find Liam swimming laps, just like I hoped.
Saint’s going to be pissed that I went to him behind his back, but I’m having a hard time caring lately about what he thinks. I edge my way toward the water and stand there with my arms crossed, waiting for Liam to notice me.
When he does, his brown eyes widen and he stops to tread the water as he stares up at me cautiously. Did Saint give him a heads up that I might hunt him down, too?
“Mallory,” he says. “You okay?”
I don’t waste any time. “I need you to tell me what happened Friday night.”
He raises a hand and scratches at his forehead.
“Shit, Mal—”
“No,” I cut him off. “Don’t try to dodge this. I want to know, and you’re going to tell me.”