Page 29 of Saint

He points over the group of people surrounding us to an archway on the opposite side of the room. “The staircase is over there.”

Of course it is.

Fighting my way through the crowd again, I finally find the staircase. Unfortunately, Nixon follows me down it, stopping at a door on the left and propping it open.

Downstairs is quieter than upstairs like Brax said. But it isn’t empty. A giggling couple dips into one of the rooms, and the girl is ripping at the guy’s shirt, making it clear what this part of the house is used for.

“Clear.” Nixon walks into a room on his left. “This place is incredible. I mean, shit, this is a guest room?”

The room is large and mostly empty. A giant bed sits on one wall, a dresser on the other, and a chair in the corner. Across the room, I spot the door that must lead to the bathroom.

I breathe a sigh of relief. “Thanks for leading the way. I’m good now.”

Nixon turns around, smirking. “Come on, Vi. What about that second date we never got around to? You clean up; I’ll wait.”

“I’ve got a boyfriend.”

Nixon approaches, and I step back.

“Liam?” He tips his head back and laughs. “Is it one of thosehe can do whatever he wants, and you’re loyal to him anywaysituations?”

My stomach turns at his insinuation. At another reminder that I’ll never find someone who will want me for me. Who will understand me just as I am. Who won’t cheat on me when I don’t immediately give it up to them.

“Come on, we all know he fucks around.”

I don’t—orI didn’t.

The moment I walked into Sigma House, I suspected it. I don’t think it’s possible for any of them to be faithful, given the scene upstairs.

Nixon takes another step toward me, and I step back. What started flirty and playful feels like it’s changing, and it has the hair on the back of my head standing on its ends when he refuses to let this go.

“We don’t have to fuck, so it’s not even technically cheating.” Nixon grins. “Just a little fun.”

He sticks his tongue out and wiggles it at me.

“What do you think?” Nixon’s grin is wide, but then his gaze darts over my shoulder, and I watch something shift in his expression as his amusement slowly falls.

I smell Saint before I feel him.

Oak. Trees. A forest fire.

And then his body presses closer. He wraps a hand around my waist and splays his fingers over my stomach, pulling my back to his front.

“Yes, Violet.” Saint leans down, whispering in my ear, “What do you think?”

10

Role-Play

Violet

Nixon takes a stepback. His eyes dart from Saint to where he has his hand wrapped around my stomach. “Oh hey, Liam. Your girl and I were just talking. I swear.”

“Liam?” Saint repeats, quiet enough that I’m the only one who hears it.

I look over my shoulder at him, expecting to see those haunting blue Xs for eyes, but tonight, he’s wearing a ski mask. And with no light in the room and the hallway being dim, I can’t make out anything more than dark eyes—too buried in the shadows for me to decide if they’re familiar.

All I know is that Saint isn’t Liam, even if Nixon seems to think so. It makes sense, given they’re the same height and similar builds. That, and the fact that Saint’s hand is casually wrapped around me like he’s my boyfriend and not the man who killed him.

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