But no. As she started her car and pointed it toward her condo, she was nervous about getting naked with him, feeling the full weight of his body above her, waking up tomorrow with him next to her.
All they’d shared were some kisses and illicit groping. He knew more about her terrible family and hidden insecurities than he did about what got her off. It was so old-fashioned, almost courtly, and that felt ridiculous.
She’d wanted him to be hers and hers alone for so long that she felt giddy that it was actually going to happen. It was difficult to concentrate on navigating the traffic to her place, but she wasn’t about to die before she got to fuck Patrick Dooley—unless that was going to be the punishment doled out for stealing him from God.
In that case, she could totally understand—he was one of a kind.
As they sat in bumper-to-bumper traffic on the Dan Ryan, she snuck a look at him. He smiled at her, looking almost goofy. “What the fuck are we doing, Patrick?”
He looked shocked to hear her say it, and then concern flashed over his features. Like he was worried about her kicking him out of the car on the freeway at this point. But then he said the perfect thing. “I have no idea what we’re doing other than loving each other.”
For some reason, that thought comforted her. The idea that she wasn’t the only one who’d been taken apart and laid bare by their feelings for each other. She gave him another smile that she hoped didn’t reveal how shaky she felt about this whole thing and then looked back at the road. “Where are we going to live?”
Patrick snorted. “I think they’re going to kick me out of the rectory after that whole deal. I was thinking about moving into the apartment above Dooley’s.”
Sasha scrunched up her nose. That apartment was probably fine for a twenty-something just out of college, but there was no light. It seemed sad—not a place to start a new life. Patrick deserved to have light. It was fine, really, but Patrick deserved to live someplace beautiful.
Without thinking too hard, which would make her not say what she was about to say, she said, “How about my place?”
“Do you think it’s too soon to move in together?” It was, but nothing about them being together was prudent or well plotted out.
“It’s definitely too soon.” But it didn’t feel wrong. “But I’ve been dating the wrong guys for me, and you spent ten years doing the wrong thing for you. And I just think that we’ve wasted enough time doing what’s right for everyone else, and I’m done wasting time. I think we’re both done wasting time.”
Patrick was silent for a long beat, and Sasha worried that he was going to turn her down flat. Everything about this made her feel as though her skin was flayed open. It was just so raw and real. She felt like she had been made partly of metal before falling in love with him. She’d gone through life like a robot. Nothing could get in, and she processed emotions like a computer instead of really feeling them. Now, everything had the potential to hurt, so everything did hurt. Even if it was anticipation. Joy hurt. She didn’t want to imagine what him turning her down would do.
But then he tentatively reached over and grabbed her thigh, squeezing it as though he knew that she needed to be reassured. “I think you’re right. We have a lot of time to make up for.”
The way he lowered his tone about the second thing made her think that they wouldn’t be leaving her bedroom, much less her condo, for the foreseeable future. Everything below her waist got hot and tight. Her toes curled in her shoes, and she had to brace herself from punching the gas.
“You can’t say things like that when I’m driving.”
“Noted.” He moved his hand, and the lusty fog that had washed over her ebbed in part. The rest of it wouldn’t ebb until they’d gotten back to her place, all their clothes were off, and they were lying in a sweaty pile of limbs for at least the fourth or fifth time.
“Seriously, what are we going to do?”
“You mean, what am I going to do for a job?”
That was one of her questions. She personally didn’t care if he wanted to stay home and massage her feet every night, but she doubted that would make him happy. And him having some sort of plan might lessen the blow to her parents of her shacking up with a defrocked priest.
Not much, but a little.
“I was thinking of going back to school to become a therapist.”
Sasha could see that right away. He’d be able to use his already existing skill set, and he’d look really hot in those sweaters with patches on the elbows. She was about to tell him to make a list of local graduate programs from her phone when they arrived.
As soon as she pulled into her parking space, he reached over her and unhooked her seat belt.
“Can we talk about that later?” he asked.
From the look in his eye, it would be much, much later.
* * *
—
PATRICK HADN’T EVEN GIVEN a whole lot of thought to what he and Sasha were about to do before Sasha had started prompting those thoughts a few months ago. He hadn’t seen a naked woman outside of a piece of Renaissance art in well over a decade, and he was afraid that he’d forgotten everything he ever knew about sex.
His palms were sweaty, and he felt as though his heart could beat out of his chest at any moment. Probably so attractive to someone like Sasha, who could have anyone she wanted. Even though she’d said she was in love with him, he couldn’t quite wrap his head around it.
No one had ever said that before and meant it. He’d never believed that anyone loved him, and he didn’t know that he liked the feeling, even now. It was too much stimulation, almost. As they walked up to her second-floor place, he almost stopped on the stairs.
He loved her, and he was sure he wanted to be with her, but this was crazy. Maybe they should be moving things more slowly. But then his gaze caught on the sway of her ass as she made her way up the wooden stairs, and he thought that they had moved slowly enough for long enough.
She stopped at the top of the stairs, turned to unlock the door, and gave him a smile over her shoulder that told him that she had zero doubts about what they were about to do. He longed to kiss that pillow-soft mouth, and the sudden realization came over him that no one was stopping him.
He bounded up the last few steps and grabbed her shoulders. Her eyes widened in shock, and he realized that he was being awkward about this. Like they were in a car that was backfiring and jerking on the road. “Is this okay?” he asked. As soon as she nodded, he kissed her.
Even though they were standing in a hallway, where anyone could see, he didn’t hold back. The freedom in being able to savor the taste of her, to run his palms down the bare skin of her arms. To hold both of her hands as she nervelessly dropped her keys to the ground. All of it was heady and powerful. If his feet hadn’t been on the ground, he wouldn’t know which way was up and which was down. He felt as though he were floating through the ether, and that this must be what heaven was like.