His Saint (Forever Wilde 5)

One night when Rory was supposed to accompany me to a charity fundraiser, she’d sent Kat in her place. Media speculation of the lovely news reporter and one of the wealthy Stiels together in a relationship was like catnip. Our denials somehow made it seem even more true.

After a while, we finally realized the rumors got my mother off my back even better than it got the network off Kat’s. Win-win. As far as the public knew, Kat and I had been together for over two years.

“He’s different from Marco…” I tried to articulate what I was thinking. “Less refined. More… raw strength or something. Marco is like a sleek panther. Elegant. Saint is like…”

“Hold up. Saint? His name is Saint?”

“Don’t make me yell Polo again,” I griped. “Anyway, Saint is more like an overgrown puppy who doesn’t know where his own feet are.”

There was silence on the other end of the line for a few moments. I hardly noticed since I was still picturing the cute kitten I’d just spent so much time with.

“You like him.” Her voice was softer and seemed to hold a tinge of concern.

“Isn’t that what I said? It’s a problem. You’re not supposed to have a crush on the guy who’s teaching you to punch shit.”

“Why not? What’s wrong with a little crush?”

I groaned and closed my eyes, leaning my head back on the headrest. “Ugh, Katrina. You make me sound like a kid. What’s wrong is springing wood in the middle of a lesson.”

Her laughter made me snort too. “Sounds like a personal problem,” she said after she got her chuckling under control.

“He’s so hot,” I whined. “So, so hot.”

“So, why don’t you flirt with him? See what happens?”

“No. Not him. He’d kick my ass. But it kind of made me think about going to our local gay night at the pub.”

Kat’s squeal almost burst my eardrums. “Oh my god, Augie! That’s a great idea! I’ve been so worried about you. I’m thrilled to hear you say you’re going to put yourself out there. It’s about time.”

“Now you’re making me sound like a charity project,” I said. “With friends like you, who needs enemies?”

“Shut up. Go get a drink and call us after. I expect you to sit down and have at least one conversation with a cute guy. Understood?”

I took in a deep breath and held it before letting go.

“Understood.”

Chapter 6

Saint

I walked out into the chilly October night with Otto. My brain whirred with thoughts of August Stiel. The man was somewhat of a mystery. One moment he seemed like a stereotypical rich kid who wanted everything a certain way, but during other moments, he seemed incredibly unsure of himself and insecure.

I wondered if even he knew what he wanted or who he was. Part of me felt a little sorry for him. He clearly didn’t seem comfortable in his own skin. I hated that for anyone, even if they were a little distant like he was. It was clear he’d built a massive stone fortress around himself and I wasn’t one of the lucky ones he’d let in.

“Aren’t we walking to the pub?” Otto asked as we approached my truck.

“Yeah, I just need to toss my stuff in here. Is anyone else joining us besides Seth?”

“West said he’ll meet us there. He needs to go home and change, which I think was code for sneaking in a quickie with Nico. I texted Sassy to see if she wanted to join us, and she said she’ll try. Who else is there?”

“What about Hudson?” I asked.

Otto’s laugh was warm and rich in the dark evening air. “You kidding? He’ll be there. It’s rainbow night. Ain’t no way he’s letting Charlie flirt with all the cute guys without supervision.”

“He’s so fucking whipped,” I said with a smirk.

“Pretty much. It’s still hard for me to wrap my head around him being with another man.”

“Agreed,” I admitted before unlocking the doors and throwing my bag in the truck.

“We should actually get Stevie over there to flirt with Charlie. Get Chief Paige and Hudson both fired up with jealousy,” Otto said with a chuckle as we turned to walk across the square.

We were still laughing when we entered the pub. The music was turned up louder than usual, and there was way more skin showing than on a normal night at the pub. My brain flashed briefly on the memory of August Stiel in the locker room shower, and I felt my lower belly squeeze. Lean muscle stretched over a trim frame. Smooth skin slick with shower water. The rounded cheeks of his ass bunching as he turned to look at me. The memory clip was short but sweet, and it had been playing on a repetitive reel since I’d walked out of Twist.

God, I needed to get laid.