I shake my head. “I couldn’t. I’m a mess whenever I’m around her. I don’t know. It’s just . . . frustrating. It’s not like I want to have sex with her or anything.”
His brows shoot up. “Sex, huh? So you’ve been thinking about it.” There’s no judgment in his voice, only curiosity.
God, he probably thinks I’m undecided about being a priest. I wonder if other guys who’ve chosen this path go through the same thing. It’s messing with my head.
“I should be stronger than this. I am stronger than this.” I rub my hand down my face and jump to my feet. “Look, can we pretend this conversation never happened?”
“Solomon.” He pauses, leaning forward and aiming those all-knowing eyes at me. “It’s not too late to postpone going to seminary. You can take some time to think about this. You’ll be starting a journey that requires giving yourself wholeheartedly to serving God. A vocation that comes with a lot of challenges—”
“I’m aware, Luke. I’m an eighteen-year-old boy who has mastered control, remember?” I flash him a smile. He once told me he was quite surprised by how I’d managed to discipline myself from bowing to temptation and ‘carnal pleasures’ as he put it.
His lips twitch. “Okay. But you realize you’ve been a big influence on Seth. That kid is like a hawk. He notices everything. His faith in the Church was restored when you took him under your wing. He and the other kids at youth group look up to you like a big brother.” His brows shoot up. “See where I’m going with this?”
I nod. “I know. My mind is made up. I’m okay, I promise. It was a moment of self-doubt, but I’m fine now,” I’m quick to reassure him.
I don’t want to take a break. The first time Seth told me why they moved here from Baltimore, I was outraged. I started to pay more attention after that. I did research and read articles online about priests accused of doing really awful things. I got even more furious and determined.
Why couldn’t these priests be like my uncle, huh? Be the shepherd who guides people back to church. I knew I’d made the right decision then. This is my calling.
Doubt is such a fickle bastard.
Luke observes me thoughtfully for a long second, then nods, rising to walk around the desk. Resting his hand on my shoulder in a comforting gesture, he says, “Okay. If you need to talk later, I’ll be here.”
I nod and smile. “I know.”
He’s always there for me, never wavering, which makes me want to be more like him. Be there for others just as he is for me.
I head out the door. Grace is no longer where I left her when I fled the sanctuary in an attempt to clear my thoughts.
Seconds later, I exit St. Peter’s Church and stride to my beat-up red Chevy that once belonged to my dad. I hop inside, and within minutes, I’m on my way back to work at Joe’s Auto Body Shop.
It’s been over a week since that split second of doubt after seeing Grace. I’ve actively avoided going to her mom’s diner, hoping to repair my fragile resolve. Deb’s Diner serves the best vanilla waffles, so I’ve been jonesing for them, but I’ve managed to be strong.
Until today.
Ivan insisted we grab lunch there during our work break, and after my many attempts to talk him out of the idea, telling him we could grab lunch elsewhere, I caved. My best friend can be very relentless. Plus, it’s so freaking hot outside, my resolve shattered in the presence of scorching heat and Ivan’s nagging.
And besides, what’s the harm, right? If you don’t look directly at the sun, chances of getting blinded by its rays are very slim. That’s what I plan to do. Not look at Grace any more than I need to.
We’ve been helping with repairs at the Rosemary Inn. The summer storms can be quite brutal on Maine’s coast, and the gazebo was torn apart by a storm two nights ago. Beverly, the co-owner of Deb’s Diner, is getting married there on Saturday to her fiancé, Mark. So when my uncle approached a few of the guys from church, asking if we could help with the hasty repairs, we all agreed immediately.
“Let’s grab a quick lunch and head back. Seth will be here soon. I don’t want to keep him waiting,” I tell Ivan when he stops walking for the tenth time since we left the gazebo. He pulls his phone out of his pocket to reply to a text from MJ.
He grunts. “You spoil that kid. No wonder he looks at you like you hang the moon, man.” He finishes texting and shoves the phone back into his pocket. “Why don’t you ask him to meet us there?”
“Because.”
“Because why?” My best friend looks at me, one brow raised. “Let me guess. Grace.”
I frown. “What about her?”
“You don’t want your little protégé to see how much she affects you.”
I start to shake my head, but Ivan cuts me off.
“He has you on a pedestal. He looks at you as if you’re a saint.”
I wince and shove my hands in my pockets, contemplating Ivan’s observation.
Does he really? I mean, I love Seth like the little brother I never had. I see the way he looks at me with respect. It’s something I take seriously because it means I earned it the hard way, given how broken he was when we first met.
But a saint? Ivan is prone to overdramatizing things sometimes. This is one of those times.
“Listen, liking a girl is not a weakness,” Ivan says quietly, falling in step with me.
I roll my eyes. He’s officially gone into Yoda mode.
“It doesn’t mean you won’t make a good priest, man. I support your choice one hundred percent.”
I rub my neck with one hand. “So you’re going to stop pushing me to getting laid?”
“Of course not.” He laughs. “Everyone needs to get laid at least once in their life. God gave you a dick for a reason other than to take a piss.”
I chuckle, shaking my head as we step into the diner.
My eyes roam the space as if they can’t help but search for her. They finally land on Grace sitting in a booth at the back. My whole body sighs at the sight of her, but whether from relief or losing a battle I’ve been fighting with my heart and mind, I can’t tell.
Her shoulders are hunched forward as her fingers fly over the keyboard of her laptop. She pauses long enough to pull a pencil from behind her right ear, then scribbles something on a paper in front of her, brows furrowed in concentration as she starts typing again.
I don’t realize my feet have stopped moving until Ivan slams into me from behind, propelling my body forward and wrenching me out of my trance.
“Dude. Stop it,” he says, voice amused as he follows his words with a painful jab to my ribs.
I wince and face him, rubbing my smarting ribs to soothe the ache away. “What the—”
His eyes glint with mirth, lips turning up at the corners. “You’re staring at Grace with that intense, creepy look again. Looks as if you’re plotting to kidnap her. Wait, are you planning on kidnapping her? Because we could totally lock her up in the basement at my mom’s shop.” He lowers his head, eyes dancing as he whispers conspiratorially, “The next shipment doesn’t arrive from Korea for two weeks, so Mom won’t be down there for a while.”