My Fallen Saint (Fallen Saint # 1) - J. Kenner Page 0,1

not the most blessed of kids. For starters, I was an orphan.

I’d turned four the day after my mother died, and though I used to tell my dad that I remembered her, by the time I was ten, that was a lie.

Her brother, my Uncle Peter, moved his commercial real estate business to Laguna Cortez after she died. My dad couldn’t afford to hire help, and as Chief of Police he had an erratic schedule. Daddy and I lived in the hills, but I’d go to Uncle Peter’s huge, light-filled beach house most days after school.

It was a stunning home, but I hated every moment away from my dad. Maybe some part of me knew what was coming. I don’t know. All I know is that I wanted him beside me and safe.

But wanting doesn’t matter. It never does. Wants are just so much fluff, and Fate is a goddamn bitch. The summer I turned thirteen, I learned that lesson well.

That’s when a gunman murdered my father, then killed himself. People tried to comfort me by pointing out that my father died on duty in the job he loved. But it didn’t help. He was still horribly, painfully dead.

After that, my life spiraled even more. I moved in with Uncle Peter, and all my friends thought that I was so lucky, because there aren’t that many beachfront homes in Laguna Cortez.

But I wasn’t. I wasn’t lucky at all.

Eventually, I grew accustomed to my new normal. I’d find myself going entire days feeling happy, only to hate myself at night, because how could I experience joy when my parents had both died so horribly?

Which was why I wasn’t surprised when the storms rolled in on my birthday, because life will always sneak up and bite you.

Still, even with only a few kids showing up, we’d had fun. Instead of the beach, we settled into the media room to watch movies. And when Brandy and I went downstairs to ask Uncle Peter if my favorite pizza place was delivering in the storm, there he was.

A few years older than me, Alex was tall and lean, with close-cropped blond hair, a clean-shaven face that still had a boyish roundness, but an expression that was fully adult. His sandy brown eyes held me in place when he turned to look at me. And when his wide mouth curved into a friendly smile, a low, thrum teased between my thighs.

I’d had a crush or two by then, but I’d never reacted that viscerally to a guy. But Alex … well, a mere glimpse gave me more understanding of what all the fuss was about than any of the late-night gossip sessions at Brandy’s frequent slumber parties.

When he came over to shake my hand and wish me a happy birthday, I almost passed out. I was so flustered that I could only stand there, my hand in his, as I tried to play back the conversation of the last few seconds.

Alex Leto. That’s how he’d introduced himself. And he was working for Uncle Peter during his gap year while he decided on a college.

“Hi,” I’d squeaked, then kicked myself for being utterly uninteresting.

“Trouble with the movie?” Uncle Peter had asked, and I’d squinted at him, not understanding a word. “The projector,” he clarified. “Did you come down because I need to fix something?”

“Oh! Right. Pizza. We want to order pizza. Will they deliver in this weather?”

“If not, I can go get it for you,” Alex said, and if I hadn’t already fallen hard, that would have sealed the deal. A real live Prince Charming right in my kitchen.

Once Uncle Peter agreed, there’d been no more reason to hang out in the kitchen, and Brandy and I reluctantly went back to the media room. “Oh. My. God,” she whisper-squealed as we climbed the stairs. “Did you see the way he was looking at you?”

“He was being polite,” I countered, though her words revived that down low tingle, now complemented by a swarm of butterflies in my belly.

“Was he?” She winked at me, and I grabbed her wrist before she could burst into the media room.

“Don’t say anything.”

“What? Why not?”

“I just … I … please? Can we tell them about the pizza and leave it at that?”

“Yeah.” She shrugged. “Yeah, sure. If that’s what you want.”

“Thanks.”

She gave me a quick conspiratorial smile. “But he really is super cute.”

“I know, right?” And we both burst into giggles, only to fall into total hysterics when our friend Carrie pushed open