At first, I thought it was a childish crush, but the older I got, the more intense my feelings for him burned.
Worse since I started university.
I want to blame it on hormones, but not a day has gone by where I don’t think about him.
Whenever he speaks to me now, I get butterflies. I’m beginning to think he had a second bout of puberty, because in the last couple of years he’s changed so much.
I don’t have issues talking to guys, but when I speak to Saint? I get heart eyes and have to fight to contain my drool.
I’ve never been in a proper relationship, and the root cause is the six-foot-six god that radiates an utterly menacing demeanour.
I haven’t taken an interest in another soul, never been able to connect with anyone because they’re not like him.
The worst of it is, he’s got this flirtatious manner around him, that cocky bad-boy English vibe going on. I don’t know if it’s possible, but it’s been intensifying the older we get.
There’s always been something dark and mysterious hidden beneath him, and I desperately want to shine a light on it.
Saint pushes off the table, and those smoky-grey eyes of his pin me in place.
My breathing stutters as we stare at each other. I want to look away, but I can’t—the alcohol fuelling my bravery.
The corner of his lip cocks upwards.
Jesus, is it hot in here?
The skin on my cheeks flares to life, and I shift my gaze back to Jenna as I brush my hair behind my back, a smug look etching her face.
“I think you two should just give it up and get it on. It’s been fucking years of tiptoeing around each other. Give in to the yearn, Indie.”
I swat my hand against her shoulder.
“He doesn’t like me like that, we’re just friends,” I whisper, keeping my voice down in case he hears.
“Who are you two gossiping about?” Rex—Saint’s best friend and Jenna’s fellow obsession—comes to sit next to us, pulling her into his lap.
We found out last year they’re sleeping with each other, but Jenna says it’s nothing serious,friends with benefits.
If I’m honest, I think she’s plagued by a branch of the same ignorance I have.
“Never mind, nosey,” she says, leaning back against his chest.
Glancing away from their public display of affection, I look back towards the table, finding myself engrossed by the way Saint moves.
His black T-shirt strains against his lean muscles, enhancing that natural light tan he always seems to sport, the veins along his bare arms protruding as he lines up the cue.
The alcohol and lust-fuelled desire cause an ache to rise between my thighs.
I’d watch this man mop the floor and find it fascinating.
A simple movement like that should not have me containing pants.
Mind you, if he comes over here and even attempts to speak to me right now, I’d probably bark like a dog instead of using my words.
Regina is the last to join us, evidently successful in her hunt to supply our almost drained liquor supply.
“Brought the stash,” she announces, giving each of us a hug in greeting whilst she holds my brother-in-law’s Absconditus vodka bottle. They keep this stuff locked up tight since the last time I got caught army-crawling it out of Louisa’s house.
I sneakily risk another glance at Saint whilst they chat.
