The Saint: An Enemies to Lovers Romance (Haven Grace Prep Book 2)

by Kelsey Clayton

  I go to my closet, grabbing what I’m looking for off the hanger. It’s a risky move, one I’m bound to get a load of shit from my friends for, but I don’t care. If I’ve learned anything from the past twelve hours, it’s that living without her isn’t an option. Not for me. If this is what she needs, I’ll give it to her.

  As I get back to the car, I get in and toss the jersey onto Delaney’s lap. She picks it up, inspecting it carefully. The North Haven logo on the front. My name and number on the back.

  “Is this for you to wear tonight?” she questions.

  “No. It’s for you to wear tonight.”

  Her eyes widen as she turns to face me. “You want me to wear the jersey of my school’s rival to the game.” It’s not a question, just a clarification. I nod. “Oh, I get it. It’s a ploy to make Carter jealous.”

  I shake my head. “I mean, that’s an added benefit, yes, but that’s not why. I want everyone to know you’re mine.”

  “Is this—” An amused grin stretches across her face. “Oh my God. This is your way of making us official.”

  “Shut up.” I groan, putting my seatbelt back on and putting the car in drive.

  “I thought you don’t do girlfriends.”

  I chuckle because she’s right. “I don’t, but lately you’ve got me breaking all my rules. What’s one more?”

  WHEN YOU LIVE IN a town as tight-knit as North Haven, word spreads fast—especially when it’s about an impromptu football game between the biggest rivals around. Bleachers on both sides are filled to the max, and people who couldn’t find seats stand along the fence. It only takes me a minute to spot Delaney. She’s standing with Tessa on the North Haven side, and, damn, does she look good.

  She smiles at me and waves, making me wink in return. Tessa rolls her eyes playfully, and I read her lips when she tells her sister she’s hopeless.

  “Is she wearing your jersey?” Zayn questions, squinting over at them.

  Shaking my head slowly, I take a step back. “Not a word.”

  “Now, what’s the fun in that?”

  The game is intense. If someone had to judge who was the better quarterback, Grayson or me, it would be a stalemate. This game is going to come down entirely to defense, and Trayland clearly isn’t against changing up positions to try to get one over on us. I thought no rules meant no foul plays, but I guess standard guidelines are out the window too.

  I’m coming off the field after scoring another touchdown when Carter gets into my face. He’s clearly angry, his fists clenched and shoulders tight.

  “What the fuck is Delaney doing wearing your jersey?” he sneers. “I thought I told you to stay the hell away from her.”

  I put my hand on his chest to keep him back. “Where did you get the idea that I’ll ever do a damn thing you say?”

  A dry laugh leaves his mouth as he looks around for a second. “What are you wasting your time for, anyway? She’s not even your type. They call her Saint Delaney for a reason.”

  I smirk. “She was anything but a saint in my bed last night.”

  Like I hit him right where it hurts, he jerks back and mutters something inaudible before lunging at me. I jump back, laughing as Stone moves in front of me and a few of Carter’s teammates pull him away. He’s fighting them every step of the way, shouting something about kicking my ass, but I can’t be bothered to care. We’re winning the game, and I’m being cheered on by a girl who looks hot as fuck in my jersey. Even Carter Trayland can’t ruin that for me.

  THE GAME ENDS 24-21, in favor of NHH. Grayson, being the good sport he is, comes over to tell me good game and shakes my hand. To anyone else, we just look like two quarterbacks exchanging respect over a well-played game. Little do they know, we’re wrapped up in the same mess, just trying to get through it.

  Tessa and Delaney are standing with the guys, and just before I go to leave Grayson after talking about the upcoming fights this week, he grabs my arm.

  “Don’t think I didn’t notice what Delaney is sporting tonight.”

  “Yeah, and?”

  He sighs. “Well, a part of me wants to tell you that I’ll beat your ass if you cause her so much as an ounce of pain, but I’ve seen you in the ring and you’re fucking fearless. So, I’m asking you, friend to friend, to be good to her. She’s the closest thing I’ve got to a sister.”

  “Pretty Boy, who the fuck said we’re friends?”

  I laugh and walk over to my friends, ignoring everything he said. I may have no intentions of hurting Delaney, but I’m sure as hell not promising him anything under some kind of bro-code.

  “Everything okay?” Laney questions as soon as I’m close enough.

  “Yep.” Draping my arm across her shoulders, I pull her in close. “You coming to my place?”

  She smiles up at me and nods. “I just have to go home to change. I’ll meet you there.”

  THE GIRLS TAKE OFF, leaving me and the guys to celebrate our victory before heading out. Stone, being the shithead he is, insists on pissing on Haven Grace’s field. Gage uses a Sharpie to write “HGP SUCKS” as big as he can on the side of the bleachers. And Easton steals one of the helmets left on the field by one of their players. Zayn and I, on the other hand, stand back and laugh at the idiocy and immaturity of our friends.

  “All right, you ready to get out of here?” Z takes his keys from his pocket.

  I nod. “Yeah, let’s go.”

  We’re walking back to his car when my phone dings inside my pocket. I stop to take it out, finding a text from Delaney.

  Delaney: Change of plans. Are you still at the school? I’ll pick you up.

  I can’t help but smile as I type out my response.

  Knox: Sounds good, babe. I’ll wait here.

  “You go ahead,” I tell Zayn, as Stone, Easton, and Gage all pile into the back seat. “Laney is on her way here. I’m just going to wait for her.”

  Zayn snickers and shakes his head. “Damn. Love has changed you.”

  “Get the fuck out of here with that shit.”

  He bounces his eyebrows before getting into the car and pulling away. I take a seat on the step while I wait. A text from Brett telling me that he found Hailey this morning and managed to drag her ass back home remains unanswered. She’s not my problem anymore, and I really shouldn’t have let myself get wrapped back up in her chaos.

  What I have with Delaney may be dangerous as all hell, but it’s fucking real. She doesn’t judge me or expect anything I can’t give her. Together, we’re just…us.

  I’m looking down at my phone when two cars pull up out of nowhere. A bunch of guys jump out, but I only recognize one—Carter.

  “Aw, look who’s all alone,” he mocks, coming closer. “Who are you waiting for? Your girlfriend?”

  Before I have a chance to move, three people come behind me, grabbing my arms and holding me so I can’t move. I try to break free, but it’s no use. I’m overpowered. Carter stalks toward me, looking like the cat that caught the canary.

  “Maybe next time you’ll listen when I say to stay the fuck away from someone.”

  14

  DELANEY

  “Okay, so you’re just not going to tell me how things went from him with some other bitch to you wearing his jersey at a football game? Like, we’re just pretending that didn’t happen?”

  Tessa has been questioning me since the second we left the football field. I get it. The whole situation confuses even me, and I’m living it. However, I’m loving where things are at and questioning them may cause that to change. Personally, that’s not a change that I find worth it.

  “I told you—he wasn’t hooking up with her. She needed help. He was trying to be nice.”

  She looks at me skeptically. “And you believed that?”

  I groan. “Shut up. You don’t know him like I do. He’s not all bad.”

  “Delaney, I’ve personally seen that boy piss on a teacher’s car door handle because she gave him detention.”

  “Okay,” I cav
e. “He’s like eighty percent bad, but not with this. You didn’t see the look on his face last night. The idea of losing me genuinely hurt him.”

  She rolls her eyes. “So, clearly, sleeping with him was the only option.”

  I laugh, not justifying her with an answer as I go over to my dresser and pull out a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. I don’t know what the plans are for tonight, but I’d much rather be prepared than need to come back here again.

  Tessa’s phone rings, and she exhales in defeat. “All I’m saying is you should be careful.” She hits to answer then brings the phone to her ear. “Hey E… Wait, what? What the fuck happened? Okay, okay. We’ll be right there.” Like it’s the end of the world, she hangs up and rushes toward my door. “Come on. We have to go.”

  “What?” I ask, confused. “Tessa, what happened?”

  Her next words cause fear and a level of anger I didn’t think was possible to wash over me. “Knox was jumped.”

  PULLING UP TO HIS house, I can’t get out of the car and inside fast enough. The sound of Knox flipping out can be heard from all the way across the street. He’s obviously pissed, but who wouldn’t be?

  Tessa and I run up the porch and in the door. The sight in front of me makes my whole world stop. Knox’s beautiful face is swollen and misshapen. He has a gash across his cheek and a pretty bad bruise already forming underneath his eye. His lip is cracked open and his shirt shows the remnants of dried blood. If this is what I can see at first glance, I can only imagine what the covered portion of him looks like.

  “Get the fuck off me,” he screams as Zayn is trying to get him to calm down. “I want to find him. I want to find him and put his fucking ass in the hospital. I swear to God.”

  “His dad is the DA,” Z reminds, but Knox isn’t listening. “Just sit down, man. Come on.”

  Carter did this?

  Knox paces back and forth, not even realizing I’m here. “No way. He’s a fucking dead man.”

  Zayn looks over at me with pleading eyes, and with a nudge from Tessa, I jump into action. I have to get directly in front of Knox before he sees me, but when he does, he freezes. I reach up, putting a tender hand on his cheek, and he leans into my touch.

  “Sit down. I need to clean you up.”

  To everyone’s surprise, he reluctantly listens. I go over to grab a bowl and fill it with water before snagging the first aid kit from the kitchen table. Bringing everything with me, I sit down on the coffee table in front of him. I wet the cloth and bring it to his lip, flinching as he hisses in pain but doesn’t pull away.

  Over the next ten minutes, I do my best to fix him—cleaning off the dried blood and applying antibacterial cream where I can. He’s definitely going to be sore in the morning, though, and require something better than germ killer. No one says a word as I work, either because they’re afraid Knox will get pissed off again or they’re shocked that he’s obeying my every word.

  I finish up and put the stuff away. “Tess, can you drive me to the store real fast? I want to pick up something for pain. He’s going to need it.” She nods, and I place a light kiss to Knox’s lips before heading out. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

  “You better.”

  Just as we walk out the door, I hear Stone snort. “So much for just fucking around. You’re so whipped.”

  And yeah, maybe I feel the slightest bit of pride for that.

  I LAY WITH MY head in Knox’s lap, looking over each one of his tattoos while his eyes stay fixated on the movie. The bruises on his chest and stomach are brutal, but he doesn’t seem to have any internal injuries—thank God.

  “I can’t believe Carter did this to you.”

  That gets his attention, and he looks down at me. “He’s not the guy you think he is.”

  The corners of my mouth raise. “Funny, that’s what I’ve been telling everyone about you.”

  “Don’t do that,” he groans. “I have a reputation to uphold. You’ll go making me look like a total softie.”

  “Aren’t you?”

  Poking me in the side, he makes me squirm. “Fuck no. It’s just hard to be an ass to you.”

  “I seem to remember you having no issue in the beginning.”

  “Yes, but that was before you won me over with your fiery personality and tendency to not listen to a damn thing I say.”

  “And here I thought I was just a ploy to make a certain prep-school douchebag jealous.”

  He smirks. “That’s just a nice bonus.”

  Wincing, he moves to the side to slip out from under me and then gets up. As he’s walking away, I notice the tattoos that cover his back. A rose on his shoulder blade. Praying hands on the other side. “Fear No Evil. Trust No Man.” inked across the top in fancy writing. They’re all a beautiful part of him.

  “What do your tattoos mean?”

  He shrugs, playing it off like it’s nothing as he rummages through the kitchen cabinets. “Just things I liked at the time.”

  “You hardly seem like the kind of person to get things permanently on your skin with no reason at all.”

  Stopping what he’s doing for a second, he looks at me and smiles. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

  I bite my lip. “Yeah.”

  After a couple minutes, Knox comes over with a bottle of Jack Daniels and two shot glasses. I eye it all carefully before giving him a look.

  “I’ll make you a deal,” he starts. “For every shot you take, I’ll tell you about one of my tattoos.”

  “That’s hardly fair. If I want to find out all of them, I’ll end up in the hospital with alcohol poisoning.”

  He thinks for a second before nodding. “Okay, one shot for two tattoos.”

  When I don’t argue it further, he pours some of the alcohol into each glass. I’ve spent the last eighteen years not letting a single drop touch my tongue, but somehow, right now, I want to. I want to experience everything with him. It’s like the thrill of doing something new gets me high, but only when he’s there to do it with me.

  He hands me a shot glass and gives me one of his heart-stopping smiles. Even all bruised up, he’s so fucking hot.

  “Cheers.”

  We swallow the liquid at the same time, and it burns my throat the whole way down. I grimace, shaking my head and rubbing my tongue on the roof of my mouth to try to get rid of the taste.

  “Oh God, that’s disgusting.”

  Knox simply chuckles. “You get used to it over time.” He lies back on the floor and puts all his weight on his elbows. “All right, Bambi, you earned it. Pick two.”

  I look over his body, having so many different options to choose from. However, there’s one I’ve wondered about for a while now.

  “The skulls on your forearm.”

  He looks down and rubs his finger over the inked skin. “I got that one two years ago. They’re all intricately tied together, and there are five of them. It represents Zayn, Easton, Gage, Stone, and me.”

  “Wow,” I breathe. “That’s admirable.”

  “Not really. We’ve just been through a lot of shit together, and they’ve always had my back. I have no doubt they’ll always be in my life, so it seemed only fitting to get something about them permanently on my body.”

  Letting his words seep in, I can already see that I was right about him. He’s a lot deeper than people give him credit for. There’s so much more than what you see on the surface.

  “And the sparrows?”

  His brows furrow as he drops his head to see them—one near each collarbone. “No matter where they go, sparrows always return home. They’re loyal to a fault, and loyalty goes a long way with me.”

  BY THE TIME WE’RE four shots in, I’m so drunk the room feels like it’s spinning. In exchange for swallowing the vile liquid, I’ve learned that the palm tree on his bicep is something he got while he was high on spring break, the black rose is meant to show there is beauty in darkness, and the praying hands were to cover up a penis his friend tattooed on him wh
ile he was passed out drunk.

  “That’s too good,” I laugh as he shows me where the balls are hidden within the palms.

  “Yeah, fucking hilarious,” he groans. “I couldn’t take my shirt off for three fucking weeks, until it was healed enough for him to cover it.”

  “Aw. Poor baby.”

  He glares at me playfully and pours himself another shot, swallowing it down with ease. “It was bullshit.”

  I lie on the couch and relish in the fact that I feel calmer than I have in a long time. Whether that’s because of the alcohol or my company, I’m not sure.

  “Is there one I haven’t seen yet? Like one on the inside of your lip or something?”

  The look on his face tells me there is, and he takes a moment before answering. “I have one on my ass.”

  I gasp. “No, you don’t.”

  He stands up and turns around to pull down his pants. Sure enough, in chicken scratch writing, the words “Teenage Dirtbag” are there—the black a striking contrast to his milky skin tone.

  “Oh my God! What the hell made you do that?” I can’t mask the shock from my voice.

  Shrugging, he pulls his pants back into place. “A good friend of mine got his first tattoo kit. He needed someone to practice on.”

  “So, you volunteered your ass?”

  “You’ve seen it! It’s horrendous. I’m just glad it’s in a place no one sees.”

  I shake my head, trying to hold in my laughter. “Clearly, you make great choices.”

  He grins. “You’re just figuring that out?”

  Truthfully, no. It’s something I’ve known for a while now, but no bad decisions he’s made could keep me from being so strongly drawn to him. For the first time in my life, I feel like I’m where I’m meant to be. Like I won’t be alone forever. Like someone could love me for me.