Then I remembered when I woke in the middle of the night. I needed to piss something fierce. Saint had still been at my back. I managed to move out without him waking and went to the bathroom. It wasn’t until I was back in the bedroom that I realized I should have made a dash for it. But then I looked down at Saint. He’d gone to his back when I wasn’t there. The blanket was down at his waist, his body on display for me to look at with the moonlight shining in.

Christ, he was stunning.

I didn’t want to run then. I didn’t want to fear the next day and what would happen. So I lay back down. Only I did it facing him, and I even scooted closer, slowly and gently resting my hand on his chest. When his hand covered mine, I froze, but his breath was even. He’d still been asleep, and I closed my eyes, listening to him breathe and found my own slumber.

Only now was now, and I didn’t know if it’d be best to sneak out the front door since it was right next to Saint’s bedroom.

I could hear him moving around out there, and my pulse raced on the extreme speed. Scrubbing a hand over my face, I sat up and put my feet to the ground while pulling the blanket off me. Saint had been smart to get up early. His morning chub would have gone down, but mine was tenting my boxers as if ready for action. I stood, stretched again, and then paced the room, waiting and willing my cock to go down. I didn’t need a piss, thank fuck, since it was hard to with a chubby. I thought of everything I could to shrink that fucker, but it was like it knew Saint was in the other room and wanted to show off for him.

Fuck it.

I had to get out of here.

I grabbed my clothes and dressed quickly in case Saint thought of coming back to the room. I snuck to the closed door and opened it a little. He was in the kitchen. From where his door was situated, I could see him clearly at the stove, only wearing jeans. His hips swayed to the gentle music playing in the background.

Shit, fuck, shit. He was cooking. Obviously making us breakfast. Could I really be a dick and leave? I closed the door and dropped my forehead to it. I couldn’t fucking leave. Not after he’d been… damn sweet and everything the previous day. He took me to the movies for fuck’s sake, plus a bar, and back to his place where we didn’t get off but did something I’d never done with anyone else. We’d cuddled. We’d slept together.

It’d been nice.

Sighing, I ran a hand through my hair and then over my face before opening the door. Saint hearing it, turned. His smile was fucking bright.