Page 51 of Savior

It wraps around me and sobers me as I realize the gravity of what just happened.

My admission cost me nothing. I’m nobody.

His could cost him everything he’s worked for—his entire life.

And it’s something I can’t take lightly.

Not even if I hope he acts on his words. I’d pray for it if God wasn’t already pursing his lips at me.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

LUCA

She’s trying to kill me.

Or damn me to the fiery pits of hell. Either one.

Not that I’m being dramatic in the slightest.

But as I come out of my room to get some of the takeout I’d ordered for us both, I spy her on the couch, and I’ll be damned if she’s not in the shortest shorts known to man.

They might be the shortest shorts to have ever been crafted.

Half of me wonders if Ardesia Ricci isn’t trying to kill me since he brought the clothes to me.

“There’s plenty left,” she calls out, swallowing a few mouthfuls of water before smiling at me.

It’s been days since the moment in my office, and neither of us has spoken of it again. Which I’m thankful for. Then, there’s the almost kiss at the beach and the moment last night in her bedroom…

My offenses are amassing at such an alarming rate. Especially after what Sloane just admitted to me in the church. The indecent thoughts warring in my head and softening my resolve are about to have me putting aside all my reservations for one taste of darkness, one touch of madness.

I spoon out heaps of Chinese food onto my plate and head for the couch to sit beside her.

This has been our thing since she arrived. We order some gluttonous food since neither of us wants to cook, and then I get sucked into some insane reality show with her until we both fall asleep on the couch.

I wake up at some point, and she’s in bed. After checking on her, I meander to my own bed.

It’s our routine.

And I’m becoming attached to it if I’m honest.

“Come on, I’ve already started the episode,” she says. I grab my water off the island and rush to the couch. Our show pops onto the screen, and the fun begins.

Before I know it, an hour has passed, and we’ve moved on to bowls of ice cream and have already hit thenext episodebutton.

It already feels like we’re getting back to normal. Whatever that is.

“He’s too good for her. She treats him like shit,” Sloane says with a mouthful of ice cream, and it’s so endearing that I can’t help but reach over and catch the dribble of it that’s slid down her chin with my thumb.

Before thinking of the implications, I lick the morsel off my thumb and leave the sassy Sloane speechless as she swallows her ice cream and stares me down, pupils constricting.

“Sorry,” I choke out. “I don’t know what came over me.”

And I don’t. I turn back to the television, pretending I’m wholly interested in the show and that my cock isn’t stirring behind my sweats because that’s how a lesser man behaves.

Not me.

Not a man of god who is celibate and has taken vows.

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