And all six of those damn days, Santi is right there by her side whenever he can be. If it’s not at her side, it’s in her lap, or he’s wrapped his arms around her, or he’s standing so close that there’s no space between them. Santi, for all his irritating little quirks, has this particular one where he doesn’t understand personal space. Especially when he likes someone and they don’t tell him to back the fuck off. When it comes to Blair, he’s under her thrall.
Why is Santi so obsessed with Blair? It’s not like she’s special. As far as I know, he’s not into women so it can’t be a crush. Is it because she’s just different? Is it that he likes her newness? If that’s the case, I hope it wears off sooner rather than later. It’s annoying that he’s been going out of his way to search her out.
Then again, I should be grateful. He’s left me alone which is what I’ve always wanted—at least that’s what I’ve told him. If that’s the case, why is his absence bothering me so much?
Without thinking, I stomp down the hallway and come to a stop on the threshold of the living room. There, I find both Santi and Blair on the couch. Predictably, Santi has ignored allcommon courtesy and is sittinginher lap. His legs are draped over her—covered in a light throw blanket—an arm resting along the back of the couch behind Blair’s head, and he’s leaned in close to her. So close that all it would take to kiss is if Blair lifted her face and leaned forward an inch. His other hand is animatedly moving through the air as he talks but occasionally he brushes Blair’s hair out of her face when a strand falls from behind her ear.
Blair doesn’t seem worried about being crushed beneath a full-grown man. Nor does she seem uncomfortable whenever he reaches out to, not so casually, skim his knuckles over her cheek or curl that troublesome strand of hair around a finger.
I guess I can see the appeal. Blair’s smile is nice, I suppose. And those large yet gently hooded eyes give her a subtle and naturally sultry look about her. She also listens, her focus solely on the man that’s crowded her space. I’d hate such attentiveness, but Santi? Well, he’s Santi. Of course he likes it. He eats that shit up.
All those little details seem so… mundane. And, other than the attention, none of the other details should really draw Santi’s interest. So why is Santi so taken with our houseguest? She can’t bethatfun to be around.
Speaking of fun, where’s mine? I should be chasing assholes through the woods and cutting them up. Anger causes my spine to straighten. I step into the room, ready to break up their merry little conversation.
“What the fuck, Santi?”
Both Blair and Santi jump at the sound of my voice. Had they not heard me coming? Impossible, I was purposely being loud. Unless they were having so much fun without me that they really didn’t notice… My chest constricts as doubt threatens to creep in.
Santi beams at me, unphased by my tone. “Hey Rhett, what’s up?”
“What’sup?” I repeat, through gritted teeth. “We’re supposed to be leaving, Santi. What are you doing? Are you ready to go?”
He blinks in surprise.
“Shit, it’s time to leave already? I didn’t even notice how late it got.” He looks at Blair and gives her a ludic glare. “It’syourfault time got away from me.”
Blair laughs and damn it—it’s a nice sound. Why can’t it be shrill or cackle-like?
“I’d say I was sorry but I’m not,” she gives him a one-shoulder shrug. The amusement on her face melts away and something akin to wonder appears. “I was having a good time. It’s been alongtime since I’ve chatted with someone as easily as I have with you.”
The two of them share a look. It’s equal parts curious and confused. There’s a soft, unspoken question that drifts between them. The heat in the room seems to spike and the moment between them deepens as the silence stretches.
I don’t like this. Not one bit.
“Santi!” I snap.
My voice jerks him out of the moment. He throws off the blanket the two of them had been sharing and leaps to his feet.
“Give me five minutes, Rhett!”
“Where are you guys going?” Blair asks as Santi starts to hurry toward me.
He stops and starts to turn around to answer but I beat him to it. “It’s none of your business where we’re going.”
“But it could be,” Santi objects brightly, looking at me with his big brown eyes.
I glare at him. “This doesn’t concern her.”
“But—”
“Go get ready or I’m leaving without you,” I interrupt with a snarl.
I ignore Santi’s eye roll and the slump of his shoulders, and how guilt blossoms in my chest in response to his dejection.
There’s no room in my heart to love Santi the way he wants to be loved. My sole purpose in this world is to rid it of disgusting bastards who prey on children. That doesn’t mean I don’t wish that there was another way. Every time I disappoint him, it hurts me too. At least until I remind myself that this is for the best. He should find someone to love who wants to give him the world, and can.
I’m not that person, and Blair certainly isn’t either.
