Page 40 of Soulless Saint

I couldn’t stop my expression from souring at the thought of going back to that house at the edge of the cul de sac. Their house. “Another party at Kaleb’s?”

Please say no… then I won’t have to.

“No, no, but they do throw a party, like, every Sunday. It’s kind of a thing. You get it, because they’re Saints. It’s like church but instead of taking a communion of bread and wine you get dick and hard liquor.“

I laughed.

“No, I was talking about the race.”

“The race?’

Kate finished pouring a latte with a perfect leaf design in the frothed milk, handing it to the customer before turning to join us near the milk fridges. “Tobes and me always go. You should come. I usually don’t bother with a lot of the parties, but race night is worth the inevitable hangover, especially if you get chosen to ride shotty with a driver.”

I lifted a brow at Kate, seeing her in a new light. I wouldn’t have taken her for a thrill seeker. “Have you ever been chosen?” I asked.

She shook her head and a few curls came loose from her messy bun. “Not yet, but I have it on good authority that one of this month’s racers has a thing for blondes. So, maybe…” She trailed off with an excited squeak, but there was something else I needed to know first.

Ava Jade made me promise I wouldn’t involve myself in any criminal activity, at least not without her.

“Are we talking legal racing?”

Toby gave me a conspiratorial look. “Sure, if that’s what you need to hear to say yes.”

I licked my dry lips, the idea of being sucked back into a leather seat and hurtled down a winding road sounding almost… euphoric. Fun. Just watching the races would be fun, too, I guessed. And after the week I’d had so far, I was overdue for some.

“Okay, fine, I’ll come. If I have anything left to wear by then.”

“Knew we could count on you.” Toby swatted my ass, winking before sauntering to the front of the cafe. “Laters, babes.”

I shook my head, watching him go. “He really doesn’t like to be told no, does he?”

“Nope. He’s a yes man through and through, but if it wasn’t for his pushy ass I’d probably never leave the five block radius around campus.”

The evening wore on at an absolutely glacial pace, pulling equipment out to clean beneath, counting stock, doing basically every part of this job that made me want to gouge my own eyes out.

I shouldered the massive coffee grinder back into place on the sparkling countertop with a grunt, sagging against it once it was back where it belonged.

“Fuck,” I breathed on a sigh, gaze lifting to the clock on the wall for what was probably the fifth time in as many minutes.

Still another forty minutes to go. Then I had the divine privilege of passing out face first on my creaky mattress before waking up to do it all over again tomorrow. At least I was off work tomorrow. The break would give me an entire evening to catch up on sleep and recharge before the race on Saturday.

Silver linings, Becks.

I swiped the back of my palm across my forehead and it came away damp with sweat, making me grimace. Ugh.

“Your face is doing that thing again,” Kate singsonged from the cash register, where she cleaned the same spot she’d just cleaned thirty minutes ago.

I attempted to unknot my brows. Smooth the tension in my jaw. Kate’s theory was that it was so dead in here because my murder vibes were scaring all the customers away.

She might not have been wrong. I was feeling extra murdery, frustrated that even after three—yes, three—triple shot americanos I could somehow still be this exhausted.

If Betty-loo-what’s-her-fuck came in here right now asking for her usual eight-step latte, I was just as likely to throw it in her face as I was to actually make it.

“Ugh,” I sighed. “I can’t help it. I never knew four hours could feel like four entire days.”

“Welcome to the working class, roomie.“

I rolled my eyes, regretting my decision to spill the beans to her over matcha smoothies at lunch today. She hadn’t missed a single opportunity to make jokes at my expense since finding out I’d never worked a day in my life. Or bought my own groceries. Or done my own laundry.

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