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Saint nods. "Exactly."
Killian snorts.
"Dude's whipped," I agree with Kill. I point at Saint, sitting on his bed, looking like he doesn't give a fuck what we think. "You're whipped. Next thing you're going to say is don't even look at her."
"That can be arranged," Saint murmurs, and the fucker is one hundred percent threatening to remove my eyeballs without so many words.
Kill smiles, and oh fuck, that can't be good. He's about to say something really naughty and start a battle royale in this dorm room. It's creepy as fuck when he smiles like that, when he's looking off into space and suddenly a grin pours slowly across his features like he's getting the expression painted on him at a fair. Never have I once seen Kill smile like that, where his blue eyes light up like he's been shot full of electricity, without shit going to Armageddon-level fucked in a matter of minutes.
"Hey, Saint?" Kill says.
Oh for fuck's sake.
"'Sup," Saint responds, texting on his phone again.
"I know I can't talk to your girl or say her name," Kill says, "but it's cool if she talks to me when we cuddle, right?"
And there it is.
We're fucked.
Saint goes still in his bed, but I'm certain he only caught the tail end of Kill's words or one of them would already be bleeding.
"What the fuck did you say?" he demands.
Saint takes jokes at Willow's expense about as well as most people take a bullet to the brain.
"I asked," Kill replies, apparently jonesing for a fight today, "if it was still cool to talk to her after we fuck."
Saint is off the bed in less than a second. It's a blur, but I manage to make out that he almost catches Kill by the lapels of his dress shirt. He would have, too, if I didn't shoot to my feet and put myself between them.
"What is wrong with you two?" I look at Saint and push him back with both hands. "You know Willow ain't riding anyone's dick but yours." I glare over my shoulder at Kill. "Stop trying to start shit to meet your bloodletting quota."
Saint grumbles and I'm pretty sure threatens murder, but he knows Kill ain't doing shit with his pet. Kill relaxes a little and laughs in his bed.
"I need to get out of here," Saint barks a second later, looking at me. "You still want to fight?"
"Fuck yeah," I agree.
Kill grins.
"Let's go," I tell them both. "I need to fuck something up before I burn that little brat in the basement."
Kill laughs, and just as we are about to leave the room and start the hunt, there's apingagainst the window. We all turn to see Saint's girlfriend on the edge of the building, her brown hair whipping every which way in the howling wind and looking absolutely terrified. Saint walks to her, opens the window quickly, and helps her inside.
"My heart is beating so fast," she says to him, her cheeks rosy from the cold and snow sprinkling her hair. "I hate having to sneak in here."
Saint loops his index finger around the ring at the front of her collar and pulls her in close. "I'll come to you next time, pretty girl."
Then he kisses her, and I want to yell at them to hurry up so I can go knock someone's teeth out.
"How's your father?" he asks the moment they break apart, her breathless and with her cheeks flushed.
"Still a jerk," she says to him. "He hung up on me after I mentioned doing a memorial service for Mama on her birthday. He still won't say her name. I guess it hurts too much. How's yours?"
"I'm sorry," he says, and to his credit, he does look like he's trying to empathize. "My father's fine. He's still a dick." He cuts his eyes across the room to me. "Gabe's got girl problems. Wanna help him out?"
"What?" I say, frowning as Kill snickers. "You just said we couldn't talk to her?"
