Saint (Priest, #3)

by Sierra Simone

“Can I sit?” he asks in a low voice. The words are as hard and smooth as pebbles. I have no idea if he’s here to continue our fight or tell me he’s leaving, but it doesn’t matter because I want him to sit. I want him to stay. Even if it’s only to tell me things that will hurt me again. “Yes,” I say, and then I can’t help it, I smile. He looks startled by that smile, his eyebrow lifting and his eyes intense on my mouth as he sits. “What are you thinking about?” he asks. “Nothing,” I say, ducking my head and smiling harder. “Lying is a sin,” Elijah replies. “Or at least that sounds like something I’ve heard before.” It must be the impending firefly show making me giddy because I decide to say it. “I was thinking about how strange it is that I used to lick the sweat off the back of your neck, and now you have to ask if it’s okay to share a bench with me.” It’s dark enough that when I look back over at him, his eyes are nothing but glitter and shine. I have no idea what he’s thinking, but once—just once—I see a muscle jump in his jaw.