Page 78 of Cheater and the Saint
It was totally a guy’s night. Tayte, a guy named Mikey, the guy I’d dubbed as Dimples from the beginning of the semester, once named Scott, and a few others were all there. Some had girlfriends with them, but most had come alone. Now, that wasn’t to say they were single, but they sure as hell acted like they were.
I got some beers and came back to the group, handing one to Tayte. We drank and talked, and when more people started showing up, girls hung around us and flirted. I was nice and might’ve gotten a bit flirty—because that’s just how I was—but Saint was in the back of my head the whole time, and I didn’t take it further than flirty grins and comments.
“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” a familiar voice said as a hand glided across my back.
I turned to see Callie. Her red hair was in an up-do with a few curls falling around her face, and she wore a tight black, sleeveless top, and skinny jeans.
“Hey, chicky,” I said, grinning as I shoulder-bumped her. “What’re you up to?”
“I came with some friends,” she said, motioning to a group of girls that were getting down on the dance floor. “Then I saw your goofy face and wanted to come say hi.”
She and I hadn’t really seen each other since the night of the Halloween party. We’d talked a little through text and bumped into each other once on campus, but hadn’t talked a lot. And yeah, it was awkward. The club setting made it easier, though, since I already had a few drinks in me.
“Glad you did,” I said. “Can I get you a drink?”
“I’m surprised you can still drink after how wasted you got before,” Callie said with a laugh. “I was certain you would’ve sworn off alcohol.”
“Nah, not me.” I winked. I went and got her a beer before coming back. “Here ya go, pretty lady.”
“Thank you, kind sir,” she said, doing a little curtsy.
She really was a cool girl, and even though I didn’t want to fuck her anymore, I hoped we could still be friends. It was great that she wasn’t like some of those psycho girls I’d heard about, that turned all crazy and manipulative when a guy turned them down. Callie understood.
“Is he here?” Callie asked, looking around the group of guys.
“No,” I said, knowing who she was talking about. “He doesn’t like the club scene.”
“Do you at least have a pic of him?”
Okay, I was maybe a little too eager to pull out my phone and show her the pictures I’d taken of Saint. One was a selfie I’d taken of both of us. I’d had to bribe him with a foot rub to take it, because for some reason, he hated his picture taken. But the others were ones I’d taken with a sneak attack, and in them, he was laughing.
“Holy moly,” Callie exclaimed, grabbing my phone and holding it closer to her face. “Your man is a stud.”
“He’d probably blush if he heard you say that,” I responded with a grin. “He doesn’t think much of himself. But that’s okay, because I have enough confidence for the both of us.”
“I’m happy he’s not your non-boyfriend anymore and he’s now the real thing.” Callie handed me back my phone. “I was afraid what we did… or almost did… would’ve ruined things.”
“Even if it had, it wouldn’t have been your fault,” I told her. “Thankfully, he’s forgiving and gave me a second chance.”
“Don’t waste it,” Callie said, poking my chest.
“I won’t.”
While Tayte and the other guys flirted with some girls in the hopes of getting lucky, I talked more to Callie. First, about Saint, but then I asked her how theHumans vs. Zombieshad turned out, and she said the humans had won. Then we talked a bit about school before arguing over whetherDCorMarvelwas better. The whole night was spent that way, and once I finally got home, I crawled into bed with Saint.
“Have fun?” he asked in a sleepy voice.
I cuddled against his back and pressed a kiss to his nape. “Yeah. But I’m happy to be home.”
Saint sleepily sighed and scooted more into me. He started snoring after that, and I smiled.
I’d never loved anyone before… but I was about ninety percent sure I was falling for him. The fall was terrifying, but I fell anyway.
***
“What? Repeat that again, but slowly,” Heath said over the phone.
“I have a boyfriend,” I repeated, enunciating each syllable as if I was talking to a child. “Better?”
