Saint (Angelview Academy #1) - E.M. Snow Page 0,45

at least it’s out there that Jon Eric and Finnegan were the culprits. Now, Loni and I don’t have to carry the burden of revealing that truth on our own shoulders. If nothing else, it’ll make people start questioning Jon Eric and Finnegan more closely and put all the focus on proving them guilty.

And Saint innocent.

The thought pops into my head, taking me by surprise. Why should I care about him right now? This is about Nick and his justice, not Saint. He likely wouldn’t have faced consequences anyway, had it actually been him.

But that’s not really what matters, not if he was innocent.

I press my hand to my chest and try to suppress the sympathy rising up inside of me for him, as well as the relief at knowing he’s not the true monster I thought him to be.

It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter.

“Mal? Are you okay?” Loni asks me, her expression concerned.

I drop my hand and paste on a reassuring smile. “I am, I swear. Just a little overwhelmed by everything I guess.”

She doesn’t look like she necessarily believes me, but I gaze at her innocently until she rolls her eyes and chuckles.

“Fine, if you say so.” Turning, she skips to my bed and takes a seat, crossing her long legs. “Tell me, what’s up with the fashion show?”

She glances around at the clothes I have scattered around my room.

“Well, there’s something I haven’t told you,” I confess. She has no idea I’ve been having late-night swim sessions with Liam. I wasn’t sure how she’d react, but it’s starting to feel weird keeping it from her.

“Okayyyyy,” she says, her brow furrowing.

“So … I’m going to Liam Halloway’s beach house tonight.”

Loni’s reaction is instant and loud. “What the hell? Why are you hanging out with Liam? At his beach house? On a Friday? Just the two of you?”

I raise my hands, as if I’m warding off a wild animal.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Easy tiger. We have an English project together, so we’re meeting up to work on it. Remember? That’s why I was in the library last night.”

She puffs out a breath, then laughs. “Oh. Is that all?”

“Well, not exactly…”

Her eyes narrow. “What does that mean?”

“So, here’s the thing. For a few weeks now, I’ve been sneaking into the pool at night to swim, and some of those nights … Liam’s been there, too.”

“Woman.” Her eyes go wide. “Are you telling me that you and Liam Halloway have been having late-night swim sessions together on the reg? Like, with him shirtless and you in a bikini?”

I groan. “I wear a one-piece most nights, but yeah, something like that.”

“Whatever.” Loni waves that away. “You’re both still alone, half-naked in the pool.”

“It’s not like that.”

She gives me a disbelieving look.

“Really!” I insist. “Neither of us had any idea the other would show up there, but we kind of just let it be.”

She seems to consider that for a moment before she raps her fingertip against her chin. “So, are you like friends now or something?”

A more complicated question than Loni could really know. I consider my answer very carefully before I speak.

“I-I wouldn’t call us friends just yet. More like, friends adjacent.”

Her finger-tapping stops and she simply blinks at me, her lips thinning in a tight line. “I don’t know what the hell that means.”

I don’t really either, to be fair, but it sounds better than saying we’re friends.

“It doesn’t really matter,” I say, hoping to steer the conversation away from this topic. “There’s nothing going on between us, but I thought you should know because you’re my friend—”

“So, if not Liam, what about you and Saint?”

I freeze. “What about Saint?”

She arches a brow. “That night at the beach, when you disappeared to the parking lot with him, I know you said that was a misunderstanding, but—”

“It was!” I cry, too late realizing I’m almost shouting. Lowering my voice again, I continue, “I wasn’t lying. I went to confront Saint about being such a dick to me, but that’s it.”

“So, you don’t like him at all? Especially now that we know he wasn’t part of Nick’s attack?”

Her question floors me. Like Saint Angelle? No way in hell! Do I think about what his touch felt like at least once a day? Sure. Do I sometimes fantasize about having hot hate sex with him? Fine, yes. But do I like him?

“Abso-fucking-lutely not.” My tone is firm, leaving room for little argument on the matter. “Saint Angelle is a sociopath who