Page 1 of The Saint

1

JAEL

Past

Dark clouds hovered on the horizon, a reminder of last night’s powerful storms. But overhead, streams of bright sunlight pierced the canopy of trees, shining down on my bare shoulders as if reminding me everything was okay. That I didn’t need to fear the power of those storms. Not the way I had as a child.

Not when I had my best friend by my side.

Ahead of me, Rolly cleared a fallen tree in one easy leap, those long legs of his making it look as effortless as walking on solid ground. I followed at a slower pace, my gaze bouncing between him and the wet mix of leaves and pine needles under my feet.

He tossed a look over his shoulder, his full lips tugging into a crooked grin at one side of his mouth. His slate-blue eyes glimmered in the sunlight and danced in the shadows, his gaze tracking over me like his hands on my back.

Was it my imagination, or had things changed?

Last night was not the first night we’d slept next to each other. It wasn’t even the first night he’d comforted me in the middle of a storm. But this morning, with the light of the sun spilling through the curtains in my room, it was the first time I’d woken up feeling like this.

“You need help over that log, David?” he asked, amusement in his eyes.

I dropped my gaze, crouching slightly to place a hand on the tree trunk so I could climb up. My cheeks, already warm from the exertion of our little hike through the woods, heated more under his attention.

Another first.

“I’m good,” I muttered, pulling to my full height atop the fallen tree.

Rolly studied me, as if he didn’t believe the words that fell from my mouth. I brushed at a strand of hair that had fallen from my ponytail and tickled my back. My friend gave me a nod and turned away slowly, his attention drawn toward the castle on the hill.

It was his uncle’s house. A mansion that looked much like a stronghold from medieval times, only updated with all the comforts of the twenty-first century. Through the trees, I could just make out the forms of my oldest brother, Arik, and Rolly’s uncle, Paulo D’Angelo, before they rounded the corner and disappeared from view.

When I drew my attention from the house, Rolly was facing me again, lifting his shirt to wipe sweat from his brow. I couldn’t stop my gaze from trickling down his flat stomach, catching on his narrow hip bones, where they jutted out from the low-slung waistband of his cargo pants.

Those bones had been pressed into my back this morning when I awoke. Rolly’s scrawny arms were holding me tight against his chest, his legs pulled up and cradling me as if he refused to let me go. It wasn’t the only thing jutting into me.

Just the thought of it had my entire body turning hot.

“You all right?” Rolly dropped his shirt, placed his hands on his hips, a slice of skin still showing below the black fabric.

I tried to smile at my friend. Tried to swallow down whatever it was that caught my tongue. With a nod, I forced out, “Yeah.”

Before I could pull my attention away from him, before I could summon up the courage to jump down from the tree I felt glued to, Rolly came to me. Long strides ate up the ground between us, his black hair flopping into his face before he flicked it away with the jerk of his chin. Then he was there, before me. Hand extended, dark brow furrowed as if he could sense that something inside of me was twisting and turning and scared of what was going on.

My body wouldn’t allow me to follow my brain, caution thrown to the errant wind. My hand slid into his on instinct, and my stomach fluttered while my heart grew calm. Rolly’s head tilted to one side, his thumb swiping over my knuckles before his grip tightened, hard. He yanked me forward and a scream flew from my lips as I lost my balance, and I fell.

I fell, landing against him, his arm wrapping around my waist and holding me, chest to chest.

Our faces were close, the way they had been this morning when I rolled over in his arms and felt that pressing against me. But just like then, I couldn’t tear my gaze away from those ocean eyes.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, his breath fanning across my face, both the words and the minty tang the same as they were in the middle of that horrendous storm last night. He lowered me to the ground, my bare stomach sliding down his sweat-soaked shirt until my feet were resting on solid ground.

Rolly raised his hand, still holding mine, and swept a loose tendril out of my face. His thumb brushed my cheek, then trailed across my jaw and down my neck. My cheeks flamed as he licked his lips, and my best friend loosened his grip.

“Come on, David. Let’s go back to the house.”

Rolly let go of me slowly, and damn, if I wasn’t thankful for it. My knees felt as if I were standing in the sea, waves pushing and sucking at me, forcing me under until I couldn’t breathe. It was all I could do to stay standing, to not reach out and grasp those scrawny arms, to not throw my arms around his slim waist and hold on to him like he was a life raft. The only thing holding me up and keeping me safe.

He turned with a wink, striding off through the woods, those long legs eating up the uneven terrain, taking away whatever swirling vortex had sucked me in when he was in my space, smoothing those waves until I was once again standing on solid ground.

I felt better.