The music grows louder as FKA twigs “Striptease” floats from the speakers. The party grows larger. Girls dance half naked to the rhythm. Yet beneath all of it, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m observing a different world compared to the last party. One built on money, power, and rules that nobody bothered to explain to me.
Elliot’s voice pulls me back. “You’re thinking too much.”
“I always think too much.”
“That sounds exhausting.”
“It is.”
He smiles. “I like it.”
The words land unexpectedly. Not flirtatious. Not predatory.
Simple.
Honest.
For a moment, I understand why I felt like meeting Elliot wouldn’t be so bad.
Because being around him is easy. So far, it’s just conversation.
A burst of laughter erupts behind us. I turn. And freeze.
Because Saint is standing on the opposite side of the pool, half hidden among the shadows.
Watching.
Not me.
But Elliot.
The realization sends a chill down my spine. Saint’s gaze never leaves him. The distance between them spans the entire terrace, yet somehow it feels smaller. More dangerous. As if something silent is being communicated in a challenge. A warning. A promise.
Elliot sees him. His jaw tightens. For the first time all evening, he stops smiling. Neither man looks away. The firelight flickers. The red water moves between them. Then Saint finally shifts his attention.
To me.
His expression doesn’t change, but his eyes soften. Just slightly. The smallest difference. So small no one else would notice against the light. Their attention is mostly on Saint’s massive size. His muscles are carved to perfection, but he’s oblivious to the attention.
He turns and disappears into the house, leaving me with the uncomfortable realization that somehow...being watched by Saint feels less frightening than watching him disappear.
“Want a drink?”
I look away from where Saint disappeared.
“Depends.”
Elliot grins. “On?”
“Whether you’re trying to poison me,” I tease.
“I usually save that for second dates.”
I laugh. The sound surprises both of us. I don’t think he would be that stupid, and, deep down, I know how it would end.
Surprisingly, everything feels normal. Easy. The way college is supposed to feel.
Elliot leads me toward the outdoor bar built into the far side of the terrace. Black stone blankets a backlit shelf wall. Glass reflects crimson light from the pool. A bartender in a fitted suit hands Elliot a beer.
