Page 44 of Cheater and the Saint
“Only if you want to, sweetheart,” I said with a wink. “There’re no strings attached to it. I want to go and support a friend, and it’d be nice if you came with me. That’s all.”
“Your friend is in it?” Saint’s guarded expression waned a little.
“Yeah. He’s Cripple Billy.”
“Okay.” He focused back on his computer, but something about the look in his eyes told me he wasn’t really paying attention to his work. “I’ll go with you. It’snota date, though. Just friends going together.”
“And coming home together,” I added with a grin.
“Only because we’re roommates.” He rolled his eyes. “Don’t get any ideas.”
“Oh, baby, I’m full of ideas.” I was laying it on thick, but whatever. “Some of them involve you on your back, too, looking up at me as I straddle your hips and—”
“I’m trying to write a paper, Leo,” Saint snapped, but his red cheeks and hard swallow told me the paper had nothing to do with him shutting me down. The guy was fucking turned-on.
Well, so was I.
I ate more of my burger and stayed quiet, but every time Saint looked up at me, I’d offer him my best, self-satisfied grin. For the rest of the evening, I mostly behaved myself, but if the opportunity arose to flirt or say something raunchy and cause Saint’s cheeks to redden, I took it.
It wasn’t hard to make him blush, and I enjoyed it much more than I should’ve.
“Wanna watch a movie?” I asked him later that night. It was kind of late, but we didn’t have to be up too early the next morning. Saint stood by the couch, narrowing his eyes, and I patted the cushion next to me. “I’ll even be nice and let you pick.”
“Since when do you ever let me pick the movie?” he asked, suspicious and too adorable.
“Eh.” I shrugged. “Don’t get used to it or anything. Now come on, Frosty. Humor me.”
About fifteen minutes into his movie selection, I was ninety-nine percent sure he’d picked it just to screw with me. One, it was a foreign film, so I had to read subtitles. Two, it was some kind of historical setting where everyone was in dire need of a bath and some hair product.
I sighed for the umpteenth time and cocked my head toward Saint. His blue eyes were big and completely fixated on the bore of a movie. I continued staring at him, so long that he eventually looked over and scrunched up his face.
“What?”
“I take it back,” I said, motioning to the TV. “You’re not allowed to pick the movies from now on.”
“This is a classic,” Saint responded. “You don’t appreciate it for what it is.”
“What it is… is a pile of garbage,” I countered. “Can we watch something else? Please? I’ll do anything. I feel like my eyes are about to fall out of my head with all the fucking reading.”
“Ah, stop whining,” Saint said with a laugh. “It’s good for you. Helps work the muscles in your brain.”
All it took was a few more minutes of me complaining before Saint finally caved and agreed to watch something else. We mutually decided onGladiator. It had the ancient history stuff for him, and it had young Russell Crowe for me, so double win. When the movie was over, it was after midnight.
Saint was barely awake and had dozed off a few times during it.
“Wake up, Sleeping Beauty,” I said, nudging his shoulder with my head.
He grumbled before turning away from me. I gently nipped the top of his shoulder before doing the same up the side of his neck. He swatted at me, sluggishly. I grinned before doing it again. By that time, I was hovering over him on the couch, and seeing him asleep like that made me stop my playful attack.
He was beautiful. And the sight of him made my breath hitch in my throat.
Long eyelashes cast shadows on the top of his rosy cheeks. His blond hair had slipped free of the careful hold and fell a little into his face. I couldn’t help but brush it aside. And his mouth… a perfectly plump bottom lip made for sucking. Although his features were predominantly feminine, there was such a strong masculine angle, as well.
If he were to grow out his hair a little, he could totally pull of the androgynous look.
Ah, fuck.
He’d opened his eyes and was staring at me. “Leo?”
