Chapter 31 31: Saint Breaks First
Baby arrived at the rooftop restaurant looking like a storm trapped in human skin.
White top, black jeans, hair perfect — but his eyes? Yeah, they were feral-tired, like he was running from himself.
Elena saw him before he saw her. She stood from the table, smiling softly.
"It's nice to meet you again, Baby," She said softly, her green gown gently flowing around her thighs due to the night's breeze.
"It's a pleasure, Elena," He kissed her cheek, gentleman-like, because muscle memory was doing the work while his mind replayed Saint's mouth on his.
He held the chair out for Elena, smiling politely at the beautiful lady.
"Thank you," Elena said, smoothing her dress over her thigh.
"You're welcome," Baby replied, taking his seat across the table.
They sat. Candlelight flickered.
City lights shimmered.
The wind was soft.
But, his chest?
Chaotic. Loud. Wrong.
"So," Elena leaned in, "you seem… distracted." She was speaking as a friend, not a therapist.
Baby only asked for a friendly date; it would be unfair to treat him like a patient.
Baby chuckled — that dry, reckless one he used when he was seconds from crumbling.
"Nah. Just… a long day." He said, flashing her a small smile.
Elena tilted her head. "I don't want to probe, not as a therapist, at least. I just want to make sure my friend is okay." Her voice was soft, unhurried, and free of the therapist's curiosity.
Baby's fingers froze around his wine glass. He just wanted to have fun, possibly sex, he didn't want to have some deep-rooted conversation about his messy life.
He forced a smirk. "Don't mind me, Elena. We have a competition coming up with Eastvale Academy and we're all just under pressure from our coach," he lied smoothly, so smooth it could be silk.
Elena smiled, the therapist in her rearing her curious head up, observing Baby's far-off eyes. "You're allowed to feel hurt, you know," Elena whispered.
Baby's throat bobbed.
No. That was dangerous.
Feeling anything today was dangerous.
He looked away, inhaling sharply.
Elena reached across the table, covering his hand with hers. Warm. Gentle. Human.
It helped. But… it didn't quiet him.
Because behind her softness, he kept seeing Saint's irritated scowl, Saint's hand on his forehead, Saint's voice saying, 'Drop it, Baby.'
Elena squeezed his hand. "Baby… look at me."
He did.
"You deserve a happy, healthy life. I know you're a star student and player, the pressure's intense, yes. But, you deserve to take things slow, and I might be stretching it a bit, but, you deserve someone who truly understands you." She spoke slowly, making sure her voice was as soothing as intended.
She might not give Baby what he wanted tonight, but she could offer emotional support and guidance, he needed it more than shallow, meaningless sex.
'Someone who truly understands me,' Baby thought.
But why did that line hit too close to the wrong person?
Baby swallowed. Hard.
"So," Elena smiled, trying to lift the vibe, "tell me something fun. Something real. Something I don't know."
Baby blinked and leaned back, lips tilting up.
"You want real?" He questioned.
"Always." Elena nodded.
He exhaled a shaky breath, staring at the wine.
"Real is… I've been feeling weird lately. Off. Like someone got under my skin without permission."
"Oh?" Elena teased lightly. "Who's the lucky girl?"
Baby laughed — just one dry "ha" that held zero humour.
"Girl?" He shook his head. "Wrong gender."
Elena blinked slowly, her eyes widening, her therapist brain clicking into gear.
"Oh. So… a guy?" she asked gently.
Baby didn't deny it. He just rubbed his chest like it ached.
"It's nothing," he murmured. "Just… a stupid thing. A mistake."
Elena watched him carefully.
"Mistakes don't usually make people this… uneasy."
Baby looked up.
And for one split second, he almost said it.
The kiss.
The confusion.
The fire.
But the words got stuck.
Instead, he muttered, "Let's not talk about it."
Elena nodded slowly.
"Okay. But if this person can shake you like this… It's nothing."
Baby's jaw tightened.
"Trust me," he whispered, looking away, "It's the kind of nothing that ruins lives." He muttered.
"And, Elena?" He called quietly.
"Yes," she answered, already knowing what he was about to say.
"You're the only person I've told about this, because I trust you. Don't break my trust," he asked gently, holding her gaze.
Elena smiled, "I'm a therapist for a reason. You can count on me, Baby," she reached over the table and patted his hand.
"Thank you," Baby nodded in appreciation.
The waiter arrived with their food, breaking the tension. Baby plastered on a charming smile, turning on his prince act because that was easier than honesty.
He flirted.
He teased.
He smiled.
But his laugh always came a second too late.
And every time Elena brushed his hand…
…he felt Saint's ghost on his skin instead.
By dessert, Elena leaned in, eyes soft.
"Baby… you don't want me here tonight, do you?"
Baby froze.
Her voice didn't accuse.
It just understood — painfully well.
He swallowed, whispering, "It's not you."
"It's him," she said quietly.
Baby shut his eyes.
She exhaled softly and stood, placing a gentle hand on the back of his neck.
"Figure out what you're running from," she murmured. "Or who?" And just like that, she kissed his cheek… "I'll see you on Monday, Baby." and she walked away.
Baby stayed at the table, staring at the city.
For the first time in years,
He felt lost.
And he hated — hated —
that the only person he wanted to talk to…
was the one man he swore he despised.
He wanted to know if Saint was just as disturbed as he was about what they did. It was eating at him.
Of course, he wouldn't ask directly, he would find an indirect way of getting Saint to say how deeply the incident affected him.
It was the first time Baby was leaving a date without taking the girl home or to a hotel, and it was the first time he actually spoke to someone on a first date.
He didn't like it, he felt like he was losing himself and becoming another person entirely, a person he dreaded becoming.
He needed to fix that, and he would, soon.
___
Baby shut the apartment door with his shoulder, exhaling hard.
Elena had been… fine.
Pretty, sweet, soft-spoken — everything he should want.
But the whole date felt like chewing cardboard.
And the moment he stepped inside, the air shifted, igniting that dreaded feeling that settled like a lump in his stomach.
Saint was sitting on the couch, hoodie half-unzipped, hair damp from a shower, muscles flexing as he scrolled his phone.
He didn't look up.
At first.
Baby kicked off his shoes and tossed his keys on the counter — loud, on purpose.
Saint's eyes lifted. Cold. Flat. Too calm to be harmless.
"You're late," Saint said.
Baby scoffed. "Didn't know you were taking attendance." He needed to get inside his room and be alone.
Saint Kross was the wrong person to speak to at the moment.
Saint stood, slow and controlled, like a man fighting the urge to break something.
"How was the date?" His jaw ticked, the question came out strangled, like it burned his tongue.
Baby walked past him toward his room, "Great." He shrugged.
Saint caught his wrist.
Not tight — but tight enough.
Baby didn't turn. "Let me go." He was suddenly scared, scared of what 'mistake'might happen between them again.
They weren't drunk, but, he couldn't shake off the feeling that something might force them to act drunk if he didn't get away soon.
Saint's voice dropped, low and dangerous, "You smell like her."
Baby's heart thumped. "And?" He asked coldly.
Saint tugged him back a step, "I don't like it." He muttered.
Baby finally faced him. "Since when is it your business who I smell like?"
Something snapped behind Saint's eyes.
Something sharp.
Something possessive.
"Since you picked interest in my best friend," Saint said, gritting his teeth as he swallowed the absurd words he wanted to say.
Baby laughed dryly, shaking his head at Saint, "You're really sick, man. I don't know what gives you the right to think that you have even an ounce of right over anyone but your fuckung self," He snatched his hand away from Saint.
"Elena is just your friend, not your wife or girlfriend. I..." he chuckled, "I am nothing to you, which should indicate that you have no fucking right over who I smell like or who I fuck or date. Elena and I can do whatever we fucking desire. Understood?" He rolled his eyes and turned away.
"You don't see me taking Cam on a date," Saint said, stepping closer to Baby's paused figure.
Baby suddenly burst out laughing, facing Saint with a ridiculous look in his eyes.
"By all means, be my guest, ask him out on a date, and get your face redesigned by his fist. In case you haven't noticed, he's not gay, and neither are you. So, stop being an idiot for a second." Baby turned and immediately resumed his walk towards his door.
He unlocked it, ready to push it in and walk into his safe zone, but Saint suddenly decided to say something jarring to the soul.
"But you kissed me, Baby. You held my fucking cock in your hand..." he covered the distance between them, his warm breath fanning the back of Baby's neck, "Doesn't that make you gay, Baby?" He whispered huskily.