“Why do you think?” he’d retorted with a tilt of his red head. Before I could respond, he’d winked and taken off, just like he did the day he stole my underwear. “See you around, Ellis.”
Why did I think he came?
The answer was clear, even if it made me dizzy.
Saint.
The beautiful, infuriating boy who seems to be avoiding me completely.
I haven’t spoken to him since he dropped me off at the nurse’s office, and the only times I’ve seen him have been at a distance or in gym class. If we’re about to cross paths on campus, he always changes direction and goes a different way. It leaves me with an empty feeling in my chest because all I want to do is thank him for saving my life—again—but he’s not giving me the chance.
His lips were pressed to mine…
I shake my head to try and dispel the stupid thought that’s been sneaking into my brain all week. Thanking him is not the reason I want to talk to him. Not at all.
Loni finishes up with the cashier and comes bounding toward us with a wide smile, her red skirt fanning out around her. “All righty, check that off the list,” she announces. “You guys good to go?”
Henry and I nod in unison. “Yep,” I say, though now my mind is focused solely on Saint.
I need to tell him how grateful I am, so I stop feeling indebted to him.
Yeah. That’s all that I want.
My heart is hammering in my chest as I make my way to the pool that night. I’m nervous, hoping it’s Saint whose waiting for me tonight. So that I can properly thank him.
That’s all. I tell myself that over and over again, but I’d probably have an easier time convincing myself if I hadn’t worn my bikini tonight instead of my one-piece.
I grip the front of my shirt in a tight fist.
What the fuck do I think I’m doing?
My feelings toward Saint are … complicated, but he saved my life. I also can’t forget the sensation of his lips against mine, no matter how hard I try. I still don’t like him—I doubt I ever will—but I don’t think I really hate him either.
I’m a goddamn mess.
I hurry through the rec center and pause at the pool room entrance to take a fortifying breath. Raising my chin, I push open one of the doors and step inside.
“Sup, Mal?”
My heart sinks all the way to floor as disappointment crashes through me. Gabe is sitting on the bleachers next to the pool, his phone in his hand. There’s no sign of Saint anywhere. Again.
“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 wanna know what my main problem with you is? It’s your presence. I can’t stand the sight of you, so you need to get the fuck out of my room. You’re ruining my buzz with your closed legs and—”