Saint (Angelview Academy #1) - E.M. Snow Page 0,32

James to me like that.

“Fucking bitch,” I growl, tears pricking at my eyes. My blood is hot, and my heart is racing. I’m tense and angsty now, which is usually how I am after talking with Jenn. I know there’s no way in hell I’ll get to sleep tonight unless I burn some of this anxious energy off. There’s only one thing that comes to mind, and I don’t hesitate. Standing, I go to my closet to grab my swimsuit.

The warmth and smell of the pool help calm my nerves as I step through the doors to the big room. I take a deep breath and my eyes scan the waters for Liam, as if driven by instinct. When I spot a big body cutting through the water, it takes me a moment to process that it’s not the boy I’m expecting. The muscled back and arms are clear of any tattoos, and I can tell his hair is blond, even though it’s darkened by the water.

It’s not Liam coming up for air by the pool’s wall.

Liam’s eyes are dark, not ice blue.

It’s Saint, and he’s smirking at me.

“Fuck.” The word’s out of my mouth before I can stop it.

Moving toward the ladder, he pulls himself out of the water and I can’t keep from staring at him. His body is … holy shit. I can’t think. I can’t even move as he saunters toward me. A voice in my head is telling me to run away, but I’m not listening. I’m like a sailor tempted to his doom by a siren, but instead of a beautiful mermaid calling to me, it’s a sexy demon who’s going to prove my downfall.

“Like what you see, Ellis?” he asks, stopping in front of me. He’s dripping wet and doesn’t bother with a towel as he seems to put himself on display. Arrogance makes his eyes bright, and his mouth is still curled up in a cruel, wicked grin.

I manage to shake off my stupor and remind myself why I hate him. I think about what he did to Nick, what he keeps doing to me, and even remember how angry I am at my mom just to give my fury an extra little kick. Instead of legitimizing his stupid question with a response, I narrow my eyes, turn without a word, and storm right back out of the pool room.

Of course, he follows me.

“Ellis!” he barks, as if saying my name in a threatening voice would do him any good.

I keep going, my flipflops slapping noisily on the vinyl tiles as I make my way back down the hall. Suddenly, just as I reach one of the large trophy cases displayed throughout this building, his fingers wrap around my elbow and he yanks me to a standstill.

I whirl on him. “Get your hand off me.”

“Who do you think you are?” he demands to know, ignoring my words completely.

“Who do I think I am?” I repeat back like some goddamn parrot. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”

Without taking his eyes off me, he points to the trophy case. Furrowing my brow, I turn to see what it is he’s indicating. There’s a large trophy dated decades ago, but he’s not pointing at it. He’s pointing at its base, where an old photo rests. It’s faded and folded on one side, but the image is of four boys smiling proudly at the camera, the school gates behind them. I squint and study it closer, as one of the boys kind of looks like Saint, except with dark hair.

“Who are they?” I ask, glancing back at him.

“My dad and his friends when they were here,” he answers easily, releasing my elbow.

I look between him and the photo, the resemblance fascinating.

“So?” I say at length, somewhat confused as to the significance of the photo. “Good for your dad, but what’s that have to do with anything?”

“I own this school,” he sneers, taking a step toward me. “Just like my father did before me.”

He’s too close now. His size overwhelms me, and his heat and scent wrap around me. I don’t want my body to respond to him, but it does. I clench my legs against the pulse that’s started beating in my core, and I’m so disgusted with myself, it’s nauseating.

Crossing my arms, I drop my gaze from his, frazzled.

“Like I care,” I snarl. “Like I give a flying fuck about who and what you think you own. I don’t have to stand here