|Fire On Fire|~PerthSaint Imagine

Chapter 8

Perth

I was really disappointed when I woke up and found that Saint was gone. I wanted to talk to him. I had been planning on moving him into my house on our day off. When I texted him it took him hours to answer, and when he did, he assured me that everything was fine, but that he was tired and needed some time alone. I figured he needed space so I gave it to him, but it hurt like hell.

Especially after our amazing night together.

When I saw him at the set the following Monday, I was shocked at how big his belly had gotten over the weekend. I tried to talk to him without making him uncomfortable, but nothing worked. He wouldn't do anything but make small talk with me. Then, after I tried to get him alone to find out how he was doing, he wound up avoiding me the whole rest of the day. We didn't go out in the vanity because the director wanted us to read the script.

So by the end of the day, Saint and I had said maybe ten words to each other. I went home that night feeling like I'd done something wrong somewhere. I couldn't understand what had happened or how he could treat me like this after the way we came together. After so many years of hoping for something like this to happen, I wondered if maybe he never really did share my feelings. Maybe I forced him into an uncomfortable situation again and he was too polite to tell me to get lost.

But he had said that he felt like he belonged with me when we were in bed together. I hadn't imagined that. But going over and over every word he said definitely wasn't doing me any good. I had to let things lie for a while. I had to let him come to me.

The next morning, as I entered the break room, I walked in on some kind of fight. I had no idea what was going on, but I could smell the tension in the air. Saint was holding a maple glazed doughnut in his hand, but he was glaring at one of the co-actor —a jackass beta who was always trying to impress everyone with his smart mouth.

"It looks like you've gone up a whole dress size, Miss Suppapong!" the asshole said to Saint from across the room.

I could see Saint's face turning red from where I was standing.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he yelled.

"Dude, you look like you're pregnant or something. You'd better lay off the maple-glazed for a month or two before you give birth to a king-sized donut!"

The five guys that were sitting at the table went into hysterics and Saint flew across the room. He grabbed the smart-ass by the collar and pulled him up off his chair.

Immediately my protective instincts kicked in, and within seconds I was standing next to Saint, pulling him away from the asshole and wrapping my own hands around the douchebag's neck. All I could see was that asshole's ugly face, like I was looking through a tunnel, my laser-sharp focus on the object of my fury. I felt hands pulling at me, and I heard Saint's voice yelling for me to stop, but I couldn't release my grip. I was in the most intense fight-mode I'd ever been in in my life. When I finally came to my senses and pushed the asshole away, just about every person in the set was standing around in a circle, staring at me like I was some kind of lunatic.

I'd never gone off on a fellow worker like that. Ever. It didn't matter how big of an asshole they were, I was always the one in control. I watched as the beet-red face of the man in front of me turned a more normal color, and I listened to him gasp for breath until he could speak again.

"What the fuck, Perth?" he said as he glared at me, then gestured to Saint who was standing near the door. "Is that your girlfriend now?"

I looked over at Saint and I could tell he was furious. And I could feel his anger coming off in waves that were directed right at me. He was furious with me because everyone in the room knew what I was doing. I was protecting him.