Page 26

TWENTY-SIX

SAINT

“For someone who hates kids, you did great with Decker,” Lennon murmurs softly from beside me as we walk on the hospital sidewalk toward the parking garage.

When she came back into the room after talking to her parents, she was quieter, not as mouthy as she usually is, and I almost asked her if something happened, but I reminded myself that even if it did, it’s not my business.

And I don’t care.

I’m aware that one of those is a lie, but still, I keep my questions to myself. I’ve got enough shit going on in my life to start caring about someone who’s only supposed to be a means to an end.

My shoulder lifts in a shrug. “He’s not so bad. Although he asked me at least twenty questions every five minutes, it was still… fine.”

Her lip curves. “Yeah, he’s a really great kid. He’s positive and uplifting even when the world has never really given him a reason to be.”

“You volunteer here a lot? Is that how you got so close to him?”

Lennon nods, rolling her lips together. “I’ve been volunteering here since I was a sophomore in high school.

I met Decker when he was about two? I think.

Both of his parents work two jobs, so it’s sometimes hard for them to be here when he’s here.

I try to come at least once, usually twice a month.

At first, it was because I needed volunteer hours for the Social Club, but I quickly realized that I loved being here, so even without needing more hours, I come.

I come because I love the kids. I love seeing them smile and laugh.

It makes me happy to know that even if for just a few minutes, they’re getting a reprieve from the heaviness in their lives. ”

It seems genuine, what she’s saying. Even I can tell she cares about Decker just witnessing them together.

“ Very admirable of you, Golden Girl.”

Her eyes roll. “Guess that makes you admirable too, then, since you willingly spent your Saturday here.”

“Woah, woah, chill.” I lift my hands, palm up. “Don’t be saying that shit. This was a one-off thing. Part of our arrangement. That’s it.”

“Mhmm,” she hums with a knowing smirk. “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”

Yeah, something tells me that little miss perfect might have more of those than I do at this point. When we make it to the parking garage, I follow behind her through the entrance to the first level.

I’m not even going to pretend like I didn’t watch her heart-shaped ass sway the entire way. I’ve got zero fucking shame.

And goddamn, it’s an amazing ass.

Perfectly curved and filling out every inch of those jeans. My eyes drag over the dip below her cheeks, the fullness, how fucking ripe she looks.

I’m an ass guy, and Golden Girl has one that I want to sink my teeth into. That’s my plan anyway.

Suddenly, she comes to an abrupt stop in front of me, causing me to collide with said amazing ass, and I almost groan when she brushes against my dick.

“Shit, sorry, I didn’t even think about calling an Uber. Do you think you could drop me off at my apartment before… whatever it is you have to go do?”

My brow arches. “ You’re gonna get on my bike?”

“Yeah, sure, why not?” she says nonchalantly, as if her riding a fucking motorcycle isn’t something that I’d be questioning.

Her.

I bark out a laugh, the sound echoing around us as it bounces off the concrete walls of the parking garage. “Ever ridden on one before?”

Her head shakes. “Nope, but I’m… trying new things.”

“Your parents are going to lose their shit,” I finally say.

The grin on her lips falters slightly, almost indecipherably, but she quickly recovers. “Exactly. Isn’t that part of the plan?”

Touché.

“I can drop you off, but I don’t have a helmet,” I say as I reach forward, pressing the button for the elevator. I’m on the sixth floor because the garage was packed when I got here this morning.

“It’ll be fine. I only live like ten minutes up the road.”

I shove my hands into the pockets of my jeans and nod. A comfortable silence settles over us as we wait for the parking garage elevator, which seems to be taking its sweet fucking time. It’s old, the entire hospital is, but goddamn.

Lennon pulls out her cell phone from the back pocket of her jeans and starts to scroll her socials, a small smile playing at her lips as she double taps the screen.

I don’t even have social media, but if I did, I’d undoubtedly opt for watching her instead.

I like observing her in secret moments like this.

When she’s unguarded and lost in whatever she’s doing.

My eyes trace the delicate slope of her nose, which is dusted with freckles despite the makeup she has on to conceal them.

I never thought I’d like freckles, but here I am, wanting to count them like a psychopath.

I watch as she rakes her teeth over her plush bottom lip, a soft, sweet giggle bubbling out of her.

Freckles and giggling are new turn-ons for me, go fucking figure.

Finally, fucking finally, the elevator dings, and the doors slide open for us to step inside. Lennon goes in first, and I follow behind her, subtly adjusting my dick, which is semi-hard behind my zipper.

The doors shut, and it feels like all of the air has been sucked out of the small space, a stiff reminder that even in September, it’s still going to be Satan’s asscrack in Louisiana.

“Jesus, it’s hot . Why is there no air-conditioning in here?” she groans, slumping against the wall of the elevator, dropping her head back.

I press the sixth-floor button and stand across from her. “No clue.”

When the elevator jolts to life and starts to rise, both of her hands fly out, curling around the railing beside her.

We’re only three floors up when suddenly, there’s a god-awful noise somewhere above our heads, and it lurches to a screeching stop. The power cuts, leaving us in the dark, aside from the small amount of light that seeps in through the vent at the top that dimly illuminates the inside.

Motherfucker.

“Oh fuck. Fuck, what’s happening?” she cries.

I pull my phone out of my pocket and turn the light on, shining it onto the panel. Completely dark. “I don’t know. We must have lost power. Fuck, I have no signal. Do you?”

“God, no. I never have signal in here.” Her voice trembles. “No, none. My phone’s about to die anyway. I’ve got two percent. I forgot to charge it last night.”

I reach for the panel and press the call buttons. Fuck, I try all of the buttons, but there’s no luck. It’s completely dead. When I look over at her, she’s breathing heavier, eyes widening when she sees that the whole panel is black. “It’s probably just a blackout. It’ll come back up soon.”

Although I’ve got no clue if it’s actually going to happen, she seems like she’s starting to panic, and the last thing I need is her freaking the fuck out in this small-ass elevator when it’s so hot I can already feel my balls starting to sweat.

“I hate elevators,” she says quietly, sliding down the wall until her ass hits the floor. “And it’s so fucking hot.”

I nod. “Not a fan of small spaces either.”

What I don’t mention is that it’s because of my piece-of-shit father locking me in the closet when I was a kid.

I wouldn’t tell her that anyway, but for some reason, it was on the tip of my tongue.

The heat must be getting to my head already.

I take the wall opposite of her and slide down to the floor, setting my useless-ass phone beside me.

“How long do you think we’ll be in here?

All night? The buttons aren’t w-working…

” The panic in her voice is hard to ignore.

Her chest rises and falls quickly, too quickly.

Tears well in her eyes, her voice breaking with each syllable.

“What if we’re stuck in here all day and no one even knows that we’re here and… an?—”

“Hey, take a breath. Slow.” I scoot closer to her, watching her attempt to do as she’s told.

Her breathing is shallow and uneven, and I recognize the panic attack happening probably before she does.

I’ve had enough to know it when I see it.

It’s too hot in here, and her chest is tight.

She probably feels like she’s suffocating.

Reaching for her, I brush back a piece of her hair that’s come free from her braids. “Just breathe with me. In… and out. Slowly.”

Her wide, panicked gaze meets mine, but she manages a small nod, taking a slow, shaky breath, even though I can see her still struggling.

I place my palm over her chest. “Breathe, Lennon. You’re going to be okay.”

Her eyes drop closed, and her hand finds mine, sliding over the top, and we move together with each breath.

In and out.

In and out.

I don’t even realize when we’re breathing that my thumb is sweeping slowly along her skin and that we’ve moved closer together, her nearly in my lap. Like some type of gravitational force that I didn’t even notice because I’m so focused on helping her calm down.

After a few minutes, her breathing starts to return to normal, and she opens her eyes, connecting with mine. “T-thank you. I’ve never… That’s never happened to me before. It was scary.”

I nod. “I know. It was a panic attack. They’re terrifying, and your fear probably triggered it.”

My own sometimes present themselves the same way, triggered by my anxiety or anger, but over the years, I’ve learned ways to cope with them, and they happen less now than when I was a teenager.

“Getting stuck in an elevator was not in my plans for today,” she finally mumbles, laughing quietly.

“People plan to get stuck in an elevator?” I grin.

The light is low, but I can still make out her face, the upturn of her lips, the flash of white teeth.

Our hands still pressed against the sweat-slicked skin of her chest.

My gaze drops, and she follows it, suddenly dropping her hand and clearing her throat.

I sit back against my wall, and we face each other, neither of us speaking.

I want to tell her that she’s not alone and that I’ve been here more times than I ever want to remember, but I don’t. I can’t.

She’s just a piece of the puzzle, a means to an end, and that’s it. Something I’m having to remind myself more often than I’d like.

“We should do something to pass the time.” My brow arches, and she scoffs, laughing. “I mean like a game or something. Something to take my mind off the fact that we’re stuck in this ungodly hot tin box, and we may or may not be rescued anytime soon.”

“Yeah? What kind of game.”

She shrugs as she reaches up and wipes the sweat off her face, nose scrunching, “I dunno. Twenty questions?”

“Pass.” That sounds like my worst nightmare.

“Oooookay, what about… never have I ever?” Her tone is hopeful as she wiggles her fingers in the air.

I lick my lips. “Not sure you’d have a shot in hell on that one, Golden Girl.”

“Let’s do it, then… unless you’re scared?”

A deep laugh vibrates out of me. “Be for real. Okay, alright, yeah, let’s play, but fuck putting a finger down. Instead, you take off a piece of clothing.”

The pink in her cheeks deepens, the heat already causing her heated skin to be flushed. Her mouth opens, then snaps shut when I lift a brow, silently taunting her.

“I’m not getting naked in an elevator… around you,” she stutters.

I lift my shoulder. “Okay, then don’t lose.”

I can see the war raging behind her eyes, her pupils flaring as she fights herself. Fights her idea of wrong and right.

Until finally, she says, “Fine. Let’s do it. But no bitching when it’s you that’s naked in front of all the hot firefighters that are going to come rescue us.”