panic too. Instead, I focused on surviving the evening traffic as college students made the roads unbearable. I arrived at the apartment complex, parking Dad’s Harley in the underground garage next to Saint’s SUV. On my way upstairs, the elevator doors opened and a blond guy entered. He was tatted, tanned, and wearing only a towel around what I hoped was a pair of swim trunks.
“Hey, doll,” he said, giving me a wink. “Who you here to see?”
“Saint.”
The guy ran a hand through his wet hair and nodded. “Don’t take this personal, but I’m ignoring you now. I don’t plan to piss off the big guy.”
“Probably your best move, stud.”
The guy gave me another wink then ignored me while the elevator headed up. We exited on the same floor, but he never looked in my direction as I dragged my bags to apartment 404.
I knocked twice before Saint answered. Somehow, I expected him to open immediately as if anxiously waiting for me. His expression left a lot to be desired too.
“Move so I can come inside,” I said when he blocked my entry.
Saint stared at me in a blank way, making me wonder if he forgot his offer. Was he mentally ill? What had I signed onto with this guy? No, I realized he was messing with me.
A smile slowly warmed his face. “How’s your leg, Afterschool Special?” he said, taking my bags and tossing them on the couch.
“I feel great. Thanks for asking, Saturday Night Live.”
“Oh, I get it. I used to be funny, but now I’m not. Hmm…”
Smirking, I walked into the living room where my bags rested. Saint’s temporary apartment told me nothing about him. The place was sterile and he added nothing to personalize it. I wondered if he had a home somewhere with his personality written all over it.
“Bedroom has two dressers. Take the empty one,” Saint said, setting his keys and phone on the kitchen counter. “There is a shelf and drawer for your stuff in the refrigerator. A cabinet for you in the bathroom.”
“What if my stuff touches your stuff? Will you freak out?”
Glancing at me over his shoulder, Saint gave me a dark stare.
“Don’t push me, girl.”
It took all my courage, but I held his gaze. “I’m very sorry for upsetting your precious feelings, boy.”
Grinning again, he looked at the kitchen. “I like my privacy. So do my belongings. Enough said.”
“It wasn’t like I was banging on your door to stay here. This was your idea.”
“True, but you came with two bags full of girl things. I’m rethinking how much space you might take. Will I need a second apartment for your bags?”
I craved to go Bailey on his ass. Was there a table I could stand on to ensure my freak out was truly obnoxious? Saint was likely testing me again. Or he was nervous about having me in his domain.
If he was giving me a test, I planned to nail it. If he was nervous, I pitied his sensitive man feelings. Either way, I wasn’t falling for his crap.
“Where will you be sleeping again?” I asked,
“In the bed.”
“Where will I be sleeping?”
Saint smirked. “I told you in the woods how you’ll be in my bed. You can’t be much of a dreamcatcher in the next room.”
“You really think you can handle all of this in the same bed with you?” I asked, doing a sort of jazz hands display of all my curves.
“I have amazing self-control. I’m not sure you can say the same thing.”
Sizing him up, I shrugged even though he made loose running shorts incredibly sexy. “Have you ever lived with a woman before?”
“Does my mom count?”
“No, though it does explain your poor social skills.”
Saint grinned big. “Maybe you can teach me to be more open like you.”
“I’ll try, but you might be too set in your ways to learn new tricks.”
Shaking his head, Saint left me to finish unpacking. I found him on the balcony, staring up at the evening clouds. When I joined him, Saint focused on me in the intense way he sometimes did.
“You have beautiful eyes,” he
“Hey, doll,” he said, giving me a wink. “Who you here to see?”
“Saint.”
The guy ran a hand through his wet hair and nodded. “Don’t take this personal, but I’m ignoring you now. I don’t plan to piss off the big guy.”
“Probably your best move, stud.”
The guy gave me another wink then ignored me while the elevator headed up. We exited on the same floor, but he never looked in my direction as I dragged my bags to apartment 404.
I knocked twice before Saint answered. Somehow, I expected him to open immediately as if anxiously waiting for me. His expression left a lot to be desired too.
“Move so I can come inside,” I said when he blocked my entry.
Saint stared at me in a blank way, making me wonder if he forgot his offer. Was he mentally ill? What had I signed onto with this guy? No, I realized he was messing with me.
A smile slowly warmed his face. “How’s your leg, Afterschool Special?” he said, taking my bags and tossing them on the couch.
“I feel great. Thanks for asking, Saturday Night Live.”
“Oh, I get it. I used to be funny, but now I’m not. Hmm…”
Smirking, I walked into the living room where my bags rested. Saint’s temporary apartment told me nothing about him. The place was sterile and he added nothing to personalize it. I wondered if he had a home somewhere with his personality written all over it.
“Bedroom has two dressers. Take the empty one,” Saint said, setting his keys and phone on the kitchen counter. “There is a shelf and drawer for your stuff in the refrigerator. A cabinet for you in the bathroom.”
“What if my stuff touches your stuff? Will you freak out?”
Glancing at me over his shoulder, Saint gave me a dark stare.
“Don’t push me, girl.”
It took all my courage, but I held his gaze. “I’m very sorry for upsetting your precious feelings, boy.”
Grinning again, he looked at the kitchen. “I like my privacy. So do my belongings. Enough said.”
“It wasn’t like I was banging on your door to stay here. This was your idea.”
“True, but you came with two bags full of girl things. I’m rethinking how much space you might take. Will I need a second apartment for your bags?”
I craved to go Bailey on his ass. Was there a table I could stand on to ensure my freak out was truly obnoxious? Saint was likely testing me again. Or he was nervous about having me in his domain.
If he was giving me a test, I planned to nail it. If he was nervous, I pitied his sensitive man feelings. Either way, I wasn’t falling for his crap.
“Where will you be sleeping again?” I asked,
“In the bed.”
“Where will I be sleeping?”
Saint smirked. “I told you in the woods how you’ll be in my bed. You can’t be much of a dreamcatcher in the next room.”
“You really think you can handle all of this in the same bed with you?” I asked, doing a sort of jazz hands display of all my curves.
“I have amazing self-control. I’m not sure you can say the same thing.”
Sizing him up, I shrugged even though he made loose running shorts incredibly sexy. “Have you ever lived with a woman before?”
“Does my mom count?”
“No, though it does explain your poor social skills.”
Saint grinned big. “Maybe you can teach me to be more open like you.”
“I’ll try, but you might be too set in your ways to learn new tricks.”
Shaking his head, Saint left me to finish unpacking. I found him on the balcony, staring up at the evening clouds. When I joined him, Saint focused on me in the intense way he sometimes did.
“You have beautiful eyes,” he
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