Oh my gosh! “What’s happening? I thought you wanted to talk.”
He shifts around until we’re standing front to front. I have to pull my head back, back, back to see his eyes. Damn freaking giant.
“Confession starts in a few minutes, so I need to say what I came here to say before my uncle walks in.”
“Make it quick. Like really quick.” My heart is racing so fast inside my chest I’m wondering if it’s going to trip on itself.
“You didn’t say it back.”
“Say what?”
“That you love me. So I was kind of wondering if you feel the same about me, or—” The sound of heavy footfalls echoing on the other side of the door freezes his words on his tongue.
“Or what?” I ask when the sound fades.
“Or if I’m just your boy-toy.”
My mouth drops open. “My boy-toy?”
His eyes twinkle with mischief and mirth, and seconds later, I slap both hands against my mouth to keep the laughter inside.
“You’re insane,” I finally say, then chuckle under my breath. “Is that why you stayed away?”
He shifts his body, then pulls me flush against him.
“Partly.”
I stare, my heart in my mouth, waiting for him to continue.
“Having to leave you behind when I go to Boston . . . The thought of breaking your heart terrifies me, Gracie. I don’t want to hurt you, yet I can’t seem to stay away from you either.”
“You got cold feet.” There’s a loud thudding in my ears, and I shake my head slowly. “My heart’s safe. I’m not the one in love, remember?”
I’m lying through my teeth, hoping to save my pride and escape potential heartbreak.
His eyebrows crease, lips pursed as he carefully studies me. And then, like the sun parting through dark clouds, a huge grin replaces that stormy look on his face.
“What?”
“Oh, sweet Gracie. The way you deny your feelings for me, it’s cute.”
“Wait, what?”
“This.” His hand palms the back of my neck, yanking me to him. Before I know what’s happening, his mouth is on mine, destroying my defenses and igniting me.
My body grows tight. Everything fades, and all I see and smell and hear is Sol’s ragged breathing. A surprised but delighted moan escapes me as I sharply tug his hair, my heart pounding in my ears.
And just like the first time we kissed, my body is overloaded with all these feelings; shiver after shiver racing down my spine, heat, so much heat surrounding me, burning a trail through my veins. All he needs to do is light the fuse, and I’ll go off like a bomb. When it comes to Sol, my body has only one reaction—combustion. And from the way he’s hungrily kissing me as though he’s about to go to war and might never come back, it’s obvious how much I affect him in return.
One of his hands grips my thigh as the other travels up to my breasts, holding one deliciously tight. His tongue sweeps along the seam of my lips, and I open up for him, desperate for his taste. He groans low, exploring my mouth. I moan in response, tasting mint on his tongue. Sol is all hands and hard body as he pins me to the wooden wall behind me.
When did he become this brave? This naughty? Holy shit, he’s so sexy and hot.
“Oh my God, oh my God!” I pant against his lips when I pull back to catch my breath and common sense starts trickling in. “What are we doing?”
Pulling away, his head falls back as his eyes squeeze shut. He murmurs in a rough voice, “We’re talking.”
I huff out a laugh as he lowers that sinful mouth of his to mine once more. “No, no. Get out before your uncle comes.”
He blinks as if he’s trying to clear his vision. As he steps back, his hands fall from my body, and just when I think he’s leaving the confessional box, he drops to his knees in front of me. His palms move up my bare legs, pausing around my knees and squeezing gently.
His dark head moves, and he presses his lips on the skin above my right knee. “What am I going to do about this? Us? It took all my strength to stay away the past couple of days, and I just couldn’t hold off anymore. I had to see you.”
My fingers sink into his messy hair and tug, forcing him to look up at me. I don’t answer his question because the answer hurts too much.
Footsteps echo outside the booth, followed by the sound of a throat clearing. Whoever it is stops and greets someone in a low, calm voice.
Father Foster.
Sol’s eyes widen, reflecting the same fear wreaking havoc inside me.
This could end so badly for both Sol and me. He puts his finger to his lips and mouths, “Shh.” I nod, unable to hear anything above the thudding in my ears.
Luke is just wrapping up the conversation when Sol’s hands swiftly push my dress up. My gaze flies to meet his just as he leans forward to whisper, “I won’t let us get caught, okay?”
Swallowing hard, I nod again.
Without warning, he hooks two fingers around the waistband of my panties and tugs them down.
“What the heck are you doing?” I whisper in a shaking voice. When did he become this naughty? This brave?
Ohmygodohmygod.
His trembling hands hesitate, uncertainty filling his features. Then he rolls his shoulders as if he has made up his mind about something, excitement and fear fighting for power in his eyes. “A souvenir,” he murmurs.
Caught off guard, my hands grip his hair tighter as he lifts one of my legs and then the other so I step out of my panties.
He pulls back as he bunches the cotton material in one hand and mouths, “See you outside.”
The wooden door on the priest’s side of the booth creaks open, then shuts with an echoing sound, reverberating through the old church and snapping me out of my shock. Sol slips out of the booth at the same time, so the sound of the door closing behind him is masked by the echo. I drop to my shaking knees on the kneeler.
On the other side of the mesh window, I hear fabric rustling, followed by Father Foster clearing his throat. He says something, but my brain is full of white noise. My hands make the sign of the cross on autopilot, and I fall silent. My throat is tight, and my heart beats fast. Oh my God!
Sol and I are so going to Hell.
Father Foster clears his throat again, pulling me out of my thoughts, reminding me of my surroundings.
“F-Forgive me, Father . . .” I trail off when my voice shakes.
My gaze sharpens on the mesh separating us. His head is bowed, his focus on something beyond my line of sight.
I take a deep breath and start again. “Forgive me, Father, for I have”—the image of Sol and me kissing like our lives depended on it, then his hand moving under my dress and pulling down my underwear flashes inside my head—“sinned.”
Shit. Shit. Shit.
I’m going to kill Sol.
I force myself to focus on what Father Foster is saying, but it’s just a jumble of words. I say something, I don’t know what, just something about the sins I’ve committed this week, which seem to have multiplied in the past five minutes. But I don’t confess the more recent ones. He gives me my penance, and I start to stand. The box has gotten incredibly small all of a sudden, and I’m thankful to be finished. Until Father Foster speaks once more.
He asks me if I’ll be helping my mom with the upcoming food drive.