“Yet here you are, telling me you love me.”
I nod, lifting a hand and wiping the tears at the corner of her eyes with my thumb. “I’m sorry for upsetting you. I—”
She presses a finger against my lips. “Let me say this, please. I know I’m supposed to encourage you to follow the path you’ve chosen,” she says, “but you changed me. You made me believe there’s good in the world. I just want to be selfish for once in my life and not let you go.”
This need to have both Grace and follow my calling is killing me. I can’t keep doing this to both of us.
I sigh wearily and drag my fingers through my hair. “Come on, let me walk you to your door.”
She looks out the window for a few seconds, then straightens her shoulders and slings the strap of her purse over her shoulder. With one last unreadable look in my direction, she unlocks her door and jumps out.
I join her on the sidewalk, and we cross the street just as fat drops of rain start falling around us. Soon, we’re surrounded by sheets of rain.
When we get to her door, she unlocks it and steps inside, then turns to looks at me. “I really had fun today, Sol. Thank you.”
I nod. “Same here.” Until I told you I loved you and scared both of us.
She waves, her lips curling at the corners. “Good night.”
“Good night, Gracie.”
As soon as the door closes behind her, I walk back to the truck, hoping the rain helps clear my head. I’m just about to open the door when a small hand wraps around my elbow. I spin around, my eyes growing wide at the sight of Grace.
My fingers move without my permission and tuck the locks of hair behind her right ear. She licks her lips, and my eyes drop to her mouth. I swallow hard, moving my hand to cup her cheek.
“Sol,” she whispers.
“Grace,” I breathe.
She squints up at me through the rain, locks of hair plastered on her forehead. “Are you going to kiss me again?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think I should.”
“Have you ever kissed someone in the rain, Solomon Callan?” It’s the same question she asked me at the diner before, the look on her face soft, grounding me, grounding my heart, which seems to have grown wings inside my chest.
I’m a complete mess, and I have no idea how to control my feelings for her. Especially when she’s looking at me like that.
I inhale the earthy scent surrounding us. Rain does have a smell, I realize. Taking her in, I smile. Even with her hair curling rebelliously around her head and mascara running down her face, she is the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.
I shift my body to face her. “No. Never.”
“Me either.” She hikes up on her toes. “But we’re about to change that.”
Her mouth presses against mine, her warm breath on my lips. The tip of her tongue tentatively licks my bottom lip, and I come undone. My hands land on her hips and yank her to my body. Then I’m kissing her, inhaling the scent of rain and vanilla waffles as fire licks my veins, scorching my skin from the inside out. And I can’t get enough.
We break apart for air moments later, panting, foreheads pressed against each other. She makes a soft, satisfied sound that has my body firing up. It sends shivers down my spine, their thrill sinking into my very bones.
“My mom’s going to kill me. She warned me about you, you know.”
I stiffen. “She did?”
“Yes. She’s just worried that we’re getting into something that will break us once you go off to seminary.”
“She’s right, you know.”
Grace shrugs. “Not everyone is lucky enough to experience something magical in their lifetime.”
I lower her to the ground and hug her close to me. “Good night, Grace,” I whisper into her hair.
“Good night.”
She extricates herself from my arms and skips to the door, that damn dress sticking to her body like a second skin. I groan under my breath and squeeze my eyes shut. I need a cold shower pronto.
I hop inside the truck. As I slide onto my seat and jam the key into the ignition, I think about the evening. One day, I’ll look back on this day and remember Grace made it more bearable, distracting me from thinking about my parents.
Then tonight’s events hit me hard. My chest tightens, and a lump forms in my throat. Shame and guilt sit heavy in my stomach; the promises I’ve made to God, to Seth, my uncle, and to my mom and dad whenever I visit them at the cemetery, they all flash in my head. I press my clenched fist onto my thigh until a throbbing pain echoes all over my body. It doesn’t loosen the thickness blocking air from getting past my throat.
I lost control. Most people don’t understand why I’m rigid about having sex, given that I haven’t even started the seminary yet, but it all comes down to principle, I guess.
I’ve been very keen about a vocation to the priesthood for years. As much as I was fascinated with Grace since I met her when I was ten, sex was never something I really thought about. Sure, I got aroused often, like every hormonal teen everywhere. But I knew what I wanted. I knew the endgame.
And now, in just a few weeks, I’ll be heading to the seminary.
I need to sort myself out. Soon.
My hands fly to my chest, a shriek bursting from my lips as I catch movement near the window in our living room. A second later, light spills across the space. I blink several times to focus on the shadow—my mom, sitting in the rocking chair, holding her phone in one hand.
“Oh gosh. You scared me, Mom.”
She stops rocking and observes me. Her forehead is lined with worry, and her eyes look tired. She looks like she hasn’t slept in weeks, which makes me feel even more guilty about our argument earlier today. Or maybe—maybe she’s sick. Panic seizes my heart, propelling my feet forward.
“What’s wrong?” I rush forward and drop to my knees in front of her. “Are you feeling okay?”
She rolls her eyes. “I’m fine, sweetheart. I wanted to talk to you before I went to bed.”
I sigh, relieved. “Me too. Let me get out of these wet clothes first. I’ll be right back.” I shuffle out of the room.
I return minutes later with a towel wrapped around my wet hair and sit down on the couch, then turn to face her. I’m caught between dread and relief, wondering how this conversation will go. I clear my throat of the lump of nervousness blocking my airway. “You go first.”
She examines me for a long time and sighs. “I realized I’m turning into my parents when I try to force you to do what I want and not what you want. I’m sorry, Gracie.”
I clasp my hands on my lap to keep them from fiddling with the edge of my T-shirt. “I’m so sorry for saying those things about you. You didn’t deserve that, and I wish I could take them back.” I pause, carefully considering my next words. “I just want you to understand that we both want different things. Remember that time when you told me I could be anyone I want to be? This is me choosing my own path. I’m not afraid to make mistakes. That’s what life is all about, right?”
She nods again, her mouth twisting into a grin. “Your grandparents are going to be pissed. They hoped you’d choose to go to Brown, like they did. They actually met in college. Your grandfather’s side of the family attended Brown. So, you can imagine their disappointment when I couldn’t attend.” She chuckles softly, but there’s no resentment or bitterness in her expression.