Page 37 of The Prodigal Son

Me too.

Two more days.

How long will you have in Denver after the show?

We don’t leave until Thursday.

Apparently, I’m scheduled to do some photo shoot there on Wednesday, so I’ll have all night after the show.

I shift in my seat at the idea of having all night with him. God, I want it. I want it so fucking bad.

What started as an indulgence has turned into an all-out addiction. I know it could end badly and likely will. But I’m beyond caring.

I’m no fool, and I’m not a child. The things they tried to drill into my head at Eternal Harmony didn’t stick quite as much as they wanted them to. I know there is no way to “pray the gay away.” I was “cured” of nothing. In fact, I’ve had plenty of sex with men since leaving their program.

But it doesn’t change the fact that they rewired things inside my brain I can’t fix. They buried themselves in my subconscious. Their lies and mantras play on repeat, whether or not I want them to. I can’t escape them, and I probably never will.

At this point, my sins are between me and God.

It’s about more than sins now at this point. It’s about my job, my life, my position in this community. I mean something to people, and I can’t lose that. Because if I lose that, then who am I?

As I type and delete and type and delete my next message, it’s like I’m being torn apart. There is a rational part of my brain that knows this isn’t a good idea. Don’t toy with the idea of having sex with Theo Virgil because that is a threat to my entire life. And certainly don’t fucking string him along like we have any real future together.

We’re both closeted professionals who can’t risk their own careers for a love affair.

But then there’s the other part of me. The man. The heart and soul and body that craves him so badly I can hardly sleep. I want to pull Theo Virgil into my life where I can protect him. I’d like to plant my feet at his door and be the one who keeps him safe at all costs.

I’ll get a hotel close to the venue.

I know the mere mention of a hotel is a point of tension. If I have another hotel room, will he enter it this time? Will he sleep by my side? Will he let me undress him and explore his body the way I so desperately want to?

“With God, change is possible.”

“Shut up,” I mumble to myself as I drop my phone on the desk and run my fingers through my hair.

I can practically hear Pastor Derek’s voice in my head.

“You don’t have to live this way, Jensen. This is not what God intended for you, but there is still hope.”

I shove the voices down and focus instead on the gorgeous picture of Theo. Suddenly, I find myself closing my eyes again. And then I do what I’ve done a thousand times already this week.

I pray.

In my mind, I reach for God. I want to feel the comfort only He can give. I want him to tell me I haven’t failed him. I need to feel his love.

My phone buzzes again, and I open my eyes to see Theo’s response.

I’ve got some time before the show.

Can we FaceTime?

My blood pressure spikes. Turning behind me, I stare at the large painting of Jesus on the wall. I certainly can’t let that be mybackdrop if he calls. Turning the chair the opposite way, I show only the white plaster wall of the corner of my office.

Yes.

A moment later, the phone starts ringing. Quickly fixing my hair, I answer it. It takes a moment for Theo’s face to appear on the screen. And when it does, my jaw drops and all the blood in my body courses straight for my cock.

Theo is standing in nothing but a white towel wrapped around his waist. He winces when he sees my reaction.

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