Page 185 of Vicious Saint
“You’re mad.”
Shimmying out of the skirt, I toss it too and bite out, “No shit.”
Saint allows himself one quick drink of me in a bra and panties before he says, “You’re the one who told me to be discreet.”
“Discreet. Not an asshole.”
“But Iama fucking asshole.” He reaches for me, and I back up as a warning.
“You don’t get to touch me. Not after letting that bitch touch you.”
“What do you think’s gonna happen if I miraculously stop playing the part? Huh? People will assume I chose a life of fucking celibacy?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
Falser words have never been spoken, I know this.
But I refuse to let him make a point.
“So, what, your plan was to have sex with Annalie to keep up pretenses?”
“What the fuck does it matter, Hendrix? You said it yourself.You’re late for class.”
Saint—two, my hypocrisy—zero.
Because of course there’s a part of me that wants us to be more.
But it doesn’t run on common sense or survival instincts.
Morally right or wrong.
Only the feelings I can’t deny I have for him.
Saint, too, even though he’s made every feeling for me, good or bad, known since day one.
Never in the right way, but a way nonetheless.
Which is more than I can say for myself.
“Our parents are married.”
“So the fuck what? My grandparents were cousins.”
I twist my face in disgust. “Seriously?”
“Pretty sure that’s the least of my family’s sins.”
A heaviness rests on my shoulders, trickling slowly to my chest. “You were gonna have sex with Annalie.”
Saint eats up the space between us, cupping my face with his hands. “I was giving you the chance to stop me.” A heavy pause follows before he adds, “It’s not my fault you didn’t take it.”
“What are you saying?”
“What are younotsaying?”
Every word from his lips is a missile ready for combat, forcing me to shoot whatever I can from my own.
“You’ve done a lot of fucked up shit to me.”
