by E. M. Snow
For a moment, I consider chasing after him again and confronting him in front of all his stupid friends. I decide against it, however, and turn to make my way to the pool.
Nobody’s there when I walk into the large, stuffy room, and it’s a relief. I’m sure Laurel and her goons have found some poor freshman to suck the life out of by now, so I’m confident I’ll get some peace for the remainder of class. I strip my t-shirt and mesh shorts off and make sure my swimsuit’s still covering all the important parts before I go and dive into the water.
A couple weeks ago, I decided I wanted to try out for the swim team, so I’ve been increasing my practicing whenever I can because I would need every advantage when it came to even being considered at this school. I’m feeling strong as I cut through the water with ease, and don’t feel the least bit winded when I reach the opposite end. Turning, I push off the wall and swim back. I go lap after lap for the rest of the class, pausing on occasion to catch my breath, but never surrendering the quiet of the pool. When my phone alarm goes off, telling me class is almost over, I let out a disappointed sigh. Making my way to the ladder, I pull myself up and out of the water.
Standing on the edge of the pool, something catches my attention out of the corner of my eye. Before I can turn to look, though, something slams into the side of my head. Stars burst in my vision as pain explodes in my skull. I stumble as darkness begins to overwhelm me, and then I’m losing my balance and falling backwards.
I lose consciousness before I hit the water.
There’s a pain in my chest and something pinching my nose painfully. I want to breath, but I can’t. Something’s clogging my lungs. Crushing my body.
I begin to panic, but then there’s something else. Something warm and firm that presses against my mouth until air flows down my esophagus. Whatever is clogging me up is loosened, and suddenly I’m heaving water. I cough and gag as someone rolls me onto my side. Water pours from my mouth like a fountain, but I can breathe normally again.
“Thank fuck,” a strained voice says from above me. “I thought you were dead.”
Slowly, carefully, I turn to look up at my apparent rescuer. Bronze skin. The Angelview Academy gym uniform of white and green t-shirt with black athletic shorts plastered to a muscular body. Blond hair clinging to what I’ve already admitted is the most stunning male face I’ve ever seen.
Saint stares down at me, his expression strained, and my stomach explodes with butterflies.
“Wh-what happened?” I whisper.
“I was gonna ask you that,” he growls. Slipping his hand under my head, he helps me into a sitting position, then pats my back a few times as I’m overwhelmed with another coughing fit. “I walked in and found you sinking to the bottom of the pool, unconscious. I had to pull you out and give you mouth-to-mouth.”
Mouth-to-mouth. Those warm, firm things pressed against my mouth were his lips. It hadn’t been a kiss, not at all, but still, Saint Angelle’s lips had been on me.
It’s in that moment that I gain enough awareness of myself to realize the side of my head is throbbing. Saint’s non-kiss is quickly forgotten as I gently press my fingers to the sore spot, wincing at the contact. There’s a sizeable bump on my skull, but when I pull my hand away, I’m relieved to see there’s no blood.
“What is it?” Saint asks, his eyes bouncing between my head and my hand.
“I … I think someone knocked me out,” I murmur, still stunned, the butterflies still swarming my chest and stomach.
His voice is a dangerous whisper when he repeats, “Knocked you out?”
I try to nod, but it only makes my head hurt more, and I groan.
“Easy,” he orders. “You should see the nurse. Or go to the hospital.”
“I think the nurse will be fine.” I try to push to my feet, but wobble slightly. Saint’s big hands wrap around my arms and steady me, and I shiver from head to toe at his touch. “Thanks…I think I can make it on my own…”
“Fuck that,” he snaps, his voice edged with rage. “Someone fucking attacked you, Ellis. You’re not going anywhere alone.”
I blink at him. “Why do you care?”
“Just shut-up,” he growls, guiding me toward my stuff. He snatches up my towel and chucks it at me. I catch it and dry myself off as much as I can. Saint steps back and gives me space, and I can’t help but give him a once over. His wet t-shirt is clinging to his torso like a second skin. It’s a struggle to keep my jaw from dropping at just how ripped he is.
Guys my age? They’re not supposed to look like this.
Tearing my eyes from him, I quickly throw on my shirt and shorts and let him lead me out of the gym toward the nurse’s office. It’s kind of surreal, having Saint escort me and act so weirdly protective. I’m still confused and overwhelmed, so I just keep my head-down and shuffle my feet down the hallway, Saint’s wide-shoulders blocking the rest of the world from view.
16
“Hey? Mallory? You okay?”
I startle and turn away from the shelf of portable light machines I’ve been blankly staring at for the past three minutes. Loni and Henry are both looking at me with raised brows.
“Yeah.” I nod and smile. “I’m great.”
“Mmhmm.” Loni doesn’t look convinced.
Which is fair because I’m far from great. It’s Saturday, five days since my attack at the pool, and I’m still freaking out over everything that happened. Since Laurel’s alibi was airtight—she and her cronies were publicly harassing some junior that looked at her funny, I have no idea who could’ve knocked me out, and I shudder every time I think about what would’ve happened to me if Saint hadn’t come along when he did.
And I hate that this isn’t the first time he’s left me with that realization.
“If you’re not up to be out today, we could go back to campus,” Henry says, his expression concerned.
I try to look reassuring when I respond, “Guys, really, I’m fine. I just want to forget about the whole terrible ordeal, okay?”
Loni and Henry share a glance.
“All right,” Loni says at length, and he nods in agreement.
Ever since I told them what happened, they’ve been treating me like I’m a glass vase that’ll shatter at any moment. While I appreciate their care, their caution only makes me remember the incident, and I’d rather not think about it.
Once I’d reported the attack, the first half of my week was spent popping in and out of the headmaster’s office, talking to him, the police, and other administration. When I wasn’t speaking with them, I was on the phone with Carley convincing her that she didn’t have to come all the way out to California because, as I assured her repeatedly, I was fine.
But I’m not fine. I’m terrified and paranoid that I’m going to get jumped again at any moment. Name-calling and trash on my doorstep, I could handle. Hell, I could even deal with the destroyed uniforms, but now, it’s gotten physical and that determination to stay is wavering. I’m having a hard time being alone and have spent the last few nights with my desk chair wedged beneath my door. I was hoping that shopping for supplies for Parents’ Weekend with Loni and Henry would be enough to take my mind off things, but I keep spacing out.
Which of course, concerns my friends.
“Do we have everything we need for the picnic?” I ask in a husky voice, desperate to push the focus off me. Tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, I cock my eyebrow at Loni.
She pulls out her mile-long list and scans it as she nibbles on the tip of her thumbnail. “Everything’s ordered. We just need to finalize the number of balloons we want and tell the girl up front. Then we’ll pop over to the mall and start hunting down prizes for the games.”
“Great, let’s go.” I urge them down the aisle of the party-supply store toward the front so we can get the balloons ordered and move along.
Henry and I stand to the side as Loni chats with the cashier.
“So, I heard you’re trying out for the swim team,” he sa
ys after a few beats, and it sounds like he’s fishing for a safe topic of conversation.
I nod. “Yep, tryouts are next week.”
“You feel ready?”
“I do, actually. I’ve been getting in a lot practice at night.”
Sucking in a sharp breath, he spins to face me, hazel eyes crinkled at the corners. “You’ve been going this week? After what happened?”
“I … I have been. A couple times.” I debate whether I should tell him that, despite feeling unsafe in my own domain, I’m not scared when I’m in the pool.
Not when I have my own security detail there every night.
Monday through Wednesday, I was too freaked out to venture into the dark by myself to head to the pool. No matter how badly I wanted to, I’d open my door and feel paralyzed by fear. It wasn’t until Thursday night that I finally gathered up enough courage to make it across campus. I’d arrived at the pool with my heart racing and was nearly in tears because I knew it wasn’t going to work out for me.
Then, my attention landed on Liam, already in the pool, his tattooed arms slicing through the water as he swam laps.
He didn’t ask me any questions or make comments about my attack. We just swam together as usual, and it was so normal, that for a little while, I was able to put everything else from my mind. I’d almost expected Saint to burst in and disrupt us, but he never came. I returned to my dorm that night, feeling better than I had all week.
The next night, to my complete and utter shock, Gabe was the one waiting for me when I went for my late-night swim. Liam had been busy, so he’d told me he got to be my babysitter for the evening. Gabe didn’t swim, but he wasn’t as bad of company as I figured he might be. He also said nothing about the attack, and mostly sat on his phone while I did my laps, only speaking to me whenever I took a break.
It wasn’t until we were walking out of the athletic complex that I got the nerve to ask why he came, and Gabe had given me his usual smirk.
“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, tho
ugh 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—”
“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.”