Page 54 of Fractured

“You like it here?” Saint held out his hand, and I knew without him asking he wanted a sip of the cold water. Our hands touched as I gave him the bottle. I tingled where his dark brown skin touched mine.

After a few gulps, he handed it back and watched the street. His profile was something of a work of art. His nose was long but mostly flat, his lips full, and he had a sharp jawline that could slice through paper. I’d always been attracted to intriguing, strong faces.

“Like what you see?” His mouth twitched into a close-lipped smile. He hadn’t looked at me, but I guessed he could feel the heat of my attention.

“I think you know I do.”

He turned to me then and reached for my hand. His palms were warm and dry over my slightly sweaty ones.

“I love what I see too.”

Suddenly feeling awkward, I laughed. “You love a touch of insanity in your women? Did you forget what I told you yesterday about the funeral? I’m hallucinating.” I tried to laugh about the secret I’d shared under the cover of night. It hadn’t been hard at the time, but now in the stark light of day, it seemed like too much.

Especially when I couldn’t forget about it… Except when there was sex involved, but what kind of relationship would we have if only sex were on the table? Sex was fun and quenched a human need I had much like anyone else, but I was finding it wasn’t enough for me. Not now. Maybe not ever again.

“Lilith.” Saint turned my hand over and massaged my palm with his thumbs. It released tension in my body I hadn’t even realized I was holding. “Yesterday was stressful, and there was too much going on. That doesn’t say crazy to me. It says you were overwrought with feelings that manifested in a way that could mean you miss him very much.” His words were steady and confident.

“I think you must have swapped bodies with Ambrose. That sounds like something he would say.” I wanted to smile. I tried.

My effort fell flat, so I shrugged and glanced down at our joined hands.

“Yeah, he is a bit quirky. I suppose with his occupation, he would have to be to be any good at what he does.” He twisted his torso toward me, bringing his head closer to mine.

It created our own little bubble. I could still hear the sounds of the street and see the backdrop of the neighborhood, but I was solely focused on him. And he on me.

It was…nice.

“Are you really okay with being here?” I held my breath as I waited for his answer. I knew when he left that this was hard for him, even if he was trying not to show it.

He grinned and booped me on the nose. “Are you worried that it is?”

“Well, yeah.” How could that not be on my mind? After everything that’d been happening lately, their presence in my life was the only thing keeping me from teetering over the edge, and after that little episode yesterday, I wasn’t even sure it was going to work long-term.

Swallowing hard, I forced my thoughts back to Saint.

“I’m in. This may be unconventional, and as odd as I found this arrangement in the beginning, it’s starting to grow on me. I really like what I know of you, and I want to know more. The guys are okay too.” He laughed.

“Okay,” I whispered, letting out a slow, relieved breath.

Saint sobered. “What I want to know is how you are?”

I shrugged. I’d always fed the lines Harper wanted to hear to her on certain topics and avoided others all together. But I was finding I didn’t want to do that with Saint. “I’m rattled. Missing Randolf is more painful than I expected it to be, but each day, I feel a little more like myself. But now I have other issues taking up headspace that I hadn’t worried about before. Like where am I going to work?”

He nodded and let my words sink in before responding. I loved that he was thoughtful that way. A great amount of thinking went into his every decision, and I knew whatever he said, he would stand behind it one hundred percent.

“Are you still getting paid now?”

“Yes, but who knows for how long. And I don’t exactly work in a profession that’s common around here.” I ran my hand through my hair as a stress move and winced when my fingers caught on a few tangles.

“True, but there’s always going to be a need for teachers. Don’t worry about the money for now, but go ahead and put a few feelers out to line things up just in case. I have seven school-age nieces and nephews, so I can ask my sisters if they’re interested. Do you have any savings to get you through until you could build up enough clientele?”

I gulped and faced forward again, breaking our connection. He’d asked me a question, but I was stuck on potentially offering lessons to his family. I was just now getting used to having someone, or someones, share their life with me. Adding in family that could judge, ridicule, or condemn me was giving me a mini heart attack right there on my front porch.

Old Mr. Ricket from down the street walked by with his dog, waving at us as he passed. We both waved back, and Saint smiled and said through his teeth, “Breathe, Lilith.”

Sucking in a much needed gulp of oxygen, I slouched in the seat and dropped my feet to the ground.

“Why are you upset? I have a good amount of savings. I can help out if you need it.”

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