Page 49 of Savior

“That’s good.”

We’re bad with small talk when the tension gets thick.

We’re five pews back, nearly at the wall, far away from any prying eyes below, if there were any, and my mind and body are on the same page, and what we feel for Luca is too consuming to fight.

It has me scooting away from him slightly, angling my body in the other direction so I don’t leap.

“Are you alright? Last night was awkward, but I thought you said we could return to normal.”

His question floats between us like a prayer too heavy to make it to the big guy upstairs, and I swallow.

“I did say that.”

“Did I mess up too badly, then?”

“No,” I snap. “I’m just having an off day, is all. I’m sorry.” My eyes turn on him as I feel the tension grow taut before I realize he’s moving closer.

The baked goods are rustled around as he shifts them to his other side.

“Talk to me,” he prods, his hand coming down on my thigh.

Closing my eyes, I try my damnedest to breathe through how my body responds. I’m so keyed up.

The indecent dream of him fucking me in one of these pews last night didn’t help.

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Clearly, there is, Sloane. You’re so rigid, and there’s energy about you today. I know I shouldn’t have burst into your room, and I’m so sorry if I made things harder for you,” he says, his hand squeezing.

“Please, remove your hand,” I grit out.

He pulls away as if spurned. “Shit, shoot, I’m sorry.”

I turn as I feel him retreating outwardly and inwardly. “It’s not… You did nothing wrong.”

“You’ve been through so much. I overstepped.”

He can’t see what he does to me; his confused state attests to his innocence. The very innocence I’ll wreck if he’s not careful.

“Not in the way you think,” I tell him.

He narrows his eyes.

“Something is wrong with me, but I fear this is not the place to discuss it.”

“This place is as good as any to discuss any matter. God doesn’t judge you.”

“Hah! This is something he would judge.”

“Would it be easier to tell me in the confessional?”

I think of his deep timbre billowing through the screen. “No!” I squeak. “It wouldn’t be easier then.”

He leans in, oblivious to my sputtering. “Well then, whisper it.”

I bite my lip, not knowing if I can pull back once I’m close to him.

“I—”

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