Secrets in edgewood the.., p.6
Secrets in Edgewood: The Complete Series, page 6
Dominic was fairly sure Reed didn’t curse, but he sure looked like he wanted to. He had to admit, coming to the store today wasn’t something that he’d had to do, but he’d take whatever opportunity he could to see Reed again. Besides, it wasn’t like Reed was running him off completely. He was still talking to Nic, answering his texts…
“Of course I shop here,” Reed ground out. “It’s the only store on this side of town.”
Dominic smiled, tapping Reed’s cart out of the way and wandering toward the bagels.
“It is, isn’t it?” He stopped his cart and grinned.
“You don’t even live on this side of town,” Reed grumbled.
“I have your pajamas. In my car.”
Reed’s eyes widened and he flailed his arms around. “Would you keep it down?”
The discomfort and guilt in Reed’s voice were so thick, it stopped Dominic in his tracks. What was he doing? This was wrong of him.
He shook his head, disgusted with himself, and abandoned his cart.
“You’re right, Reed. You know where I live when you decide you want your things.”
“Nic,” Reed protested, wheels on his cart creaking.
“No.” Dominic held his hand up, light reflecting off the band around his finger. He clenched his hand into a fist and shoved it into his pocket. “I’m sorry.”
“I don’t…”
It sounded like Reed was telling him to stay, but he had already put too much space between them. He turned and shrugged, a casual smile on his face to mask his displeasure.
“I forgot my shopping list anyway.”
He spun on his heel and returned to his car, banging his head against the steering wheel until it hurt, then drove back to the parsonage.
He’d barely gotten the front door closed behind him when there was an insistent knock from the outside. He knew who it was, and he debated if opening it up was the best idea. Dominic wasn’t a fool. He’d joined the clergy after graduating from seminary, and he’d never really planned on or cared about having a partner.
He was allowed. The rules of the Episcopalian church were decidedly gray when it came to a stance on gays in the clergy, but the parishes he accepted positions at were always welcoming. Reed’s reappearance in his life had spun his ideas about his future into a tailspin, but after a moment of fleeting hope, he knew it would have been better if he’d never run into Reed again at all.
Dominic ignored the knocking and kicked off his shoes, padding down the hallway to his laundry room. Reed’s pajamas were folded neatly on top of his dryer, free of evidence of their earlier misuse. He returned to the front door as Reed’s knocking turned frantic. Dominic opened the door a crack, blocking entry with his body.
“What are you doing here, Reed?” he asked.
“You can’t just…” Reed flailed a bit, his face pinked from the exertion of it all.
Dominic held out Reed’s pajamas, and he snatched them away, folding them into a smaller ball and tucking them under his arm.
“I’ll leave you alone, Reed. I’m here to stay, but I can shop on the other side of town, so you don’t need to worry about that,” Dominic promised, feeling defeated and alone.
“Nic,” Reed protested, but Nic held up his empty hands.
“It was good seeing you again,” he whispered, pushing the door closed between them and locking it.
Dominic turned and pressed his back against the door, head thumping heavily against the wood. Reed called his name, but Dominic squeezed his eyes closed and covered his ears with his hands, tipping his head forward so his chin rested on his chest. He clenched his jaw together, eyes dampening with angry tears. He shoved off the door, offering a frustrated shout into the empty room before retreating to the point in his house farthest from the front door—the kitchen.
He pulled the bottle of Jameson down from the cabinet, the one he and Reed had shared just two days before, and took a swig, not bothering to dirty a glass. It burned the whole way down, and he shook his head to clear it before pouring another shot straight down his throat.
Dominic contemplated calling Bishop Jenkins to ask for guidance, but the room was swimming by the time he’d thought to appeal for spiritual help. One more swallow of whiskey and Dominic found himself sprawled out in the middle of his living room, half dressed and half drunk. He was aware time had passed; the room was dark, an evening breeze filtering around the room from the open window in the kitchen.
His phone buzzed in his pocket, and his heart sank.
Fucking sank.
He knew who it was.
“No,” he said into the emptiness of his living room. He shook his head from side to side, rolling it across the floor.
The buzzing stopped, then immediately started again.
“No!” he protested, louder this time.
The buzzing wouldn’t stop, the spinning wouldn’t stop. He pried his eyes open and tried to focus on the ceiling, but it swam around his field of vision. Dominic ached. His body, his soul, his heart. To have had Reed so close again, within his reach, only to have him held away by tenents of a religion that wasn’t even his own. Dominic had made his life choices carefully, always leaving a window open in case he found someone to love, in case he found Reed again.
But Reed hadn’t done the same.
Reed…
Reed wouldn’t even admit that he was gay, or at least bi, even as he collapsed into Nic’s arms and cried out his orgasm into Nic’s mouth.
The incessant buzzing.
He answered the call, not even looking at the screen. He put the phone on speaker and dropped it beside his head.
“I can’t do this with you,” he said in lieu of a proper greeting.
“What?” Reed’s voice sounded choked and scared on the other end of the call.
“I respect your understanding of your beliefs,” Dominic slurred, resting his cheek on the floor and trying to figure out which of the two cell phones in front of him was the real one. “I disagree with them, but they’re yours.”
“What do my beliefs have anything to do with any of this?” Reed asked weakly.
“Straight men don’t kiss me the way you kissed me.”
“You kissed me,” Reed whispered.
“Okay,” Dominic agreed. “Sure. I kissed you, and you came with your tongue in my mouth. I’m glad we’re agreed that you didn’t initiate the kiss, though.”
“Why are you being this way?” Reed asked him, sounding hurt.
“What way?” Dominic accused.
“You’re being so mean!”
“Oh, stop,” Dominic bit out through clenched teeth. “I don’t know what you think is going on, or what you think this is, or whatever, but I’m not a toy for you to just… fuck with.”
Reed gasped as the expletive left Dominic’s mouth.
Dominic rolled his eyes and nearly retched up the contents of his stomach.
“I feel a certain way when I see you,” Dominic continued, ready to make himself clear for the first and last time, but was interrupted.
“How do you feel?”
“Lustful.”
“Toward me?” Reed questioned hesitantly.
“Yes.”
The call lapsed into a prolonged silence, until Reed’s breathing grew louder, coming in rough and harsh pants through the phone. If Dominic didn’t know better…
“Reed?” he asked, eyes focusing on the screen of the phone.
“What?” Reed answered, his voice distinguishably thick with what Dominic knew was want.
“Are you…?”
Reed whimpered, and Dominic’s cock throbbed against his leg. The sound Reed made was as clear to his ears now as it had been on Saturday morning just before Reed had come.
“Reed.” He cleared his throat to infuse his voice with some level of command. Maybe if he could convince himself he was in control of whatever was happening between them, it would hurt less in the end.
“Nic,” Reed moaned, the single syllable of his name falling off into a drawn-out sigh.
Dominic closed his eyes, taking the phone off speaker and pressing it against his face with both hands so they had something to do that wasn’t reach down his pants.
“I’m sorry,” Reed whispered.
A minute later, Dominic heard him start to cry. Dominic rubbed his eyes with his thumb and fingers, pulling away to find his skin wet with his own tears. He uttered a curse and took the phone away from his face. He moved onto his knees, dropping the phone onto the floor and balling over into a folded prayer position. He curled his arms around his legs and cried into the space made by his body, hoping it was enough to muffle it from Reed’s ears.
His body jerked with sobs, and he sank his teeth into his forearm, hoping the pain would be enough to still his tears. All it did was make his cock harder. He reached blindly for the phone, bringing it back to his ear. Reed was near hysterical, hiccupping and gasping for breath on the other end of the line. Dominic swallowed, wanting to go to him, to comfort him in some way. If only he could promise they’d be okay, or at least that Reed would be okay. He’d worry about himself later.
“Reed,” he whispered.
Reed cried again, a howl of anguished regret that caused gooseflesh to rise across Dominic’s entire body.
Let me come to you.
Come to me.
I’ll fix it.
I’ll be there for you.
For this.
Us.
All the things Dominic was desperate to say collided on the tip of his tongue and he swallowed them down into the bitter pit of his stomach, instead choosing the words that hurt him the most because he knew they were the ones Reed needed.
“Please stop calling me, Reed.”
Dominic ended the call and turned his phone off, then curled into a ball and cried himself to sleep on the floor.
Hours later, he woke up, his head feeling as heavy as a freight train. He was almost positive he’d been hit by one and it was still jammed into his skull. That was the only explanation for why he felt like he’d been literally wrung dry.
He blinked, the room slowly focusing, and his eyes narrowed on his powered-down cell phone. He was smacked with a painful reminder of the last phone call he’d had, and he swatted at the phone with a frustrated cry, batting it under the couch.
Dominic tried to stand but found his legs weren’t ready, so he chose to crawl to the bathroom, flinging his body over the edge of the tub to turn the taps on. He slumped against the wall, the same place Reed had slumped days before, and waited for the tub to fill.
He maneuvered his way over the edge of the basin, lowering himself into the steaming water. He winced, skin immediately reddening as he submerged himself. It hurt, his entire body feeling like he’d lowered himself into a pit of flames, but he forced it, gritting his teeth until he adjusted to the temperature.
He’d allow himself this and no more. One last hour to think of Reed. One last fantasy. One last wank. He rested his sore head against the inflatable bath pillow behind him and fisted his cock, working the tender skin of his shaft under the surface of the water. His motions made waves, and hot water lapped against the edge of the tub, against his chest, his throat, as his strokes grew shorter and rougher.
Dominic imagined a life where Reed hadn’t been adopted, where he hadn’t joined the clergy, where they’d traveled the country after high school graduation like they’d always planned. His balls drew up against his body, the heat of the bath intensifying the shivers that worked their way across his skin.
This wasn’t new. He’d done this before. Wiping Reed from his mind thirteen years ago, only to find that he’d worked his way back in to Dominic’s daily thoughts, even into his prayers.
Dear Lord, please let me find him, please let him be happy, please let him love me.
Dear Lord, please take this love away from me, it’s too much. I can’t bear this burden anymore.
Dear Lord, loving him is fucking agony.
Dominic tightened his hand around the tip of his cock, orgasm building inside of him. He closed his eyes, Reed’s voice still loud in his ears.
Nic, he’d rasped as he came.
Nic, he’d cried as he realized what he’d done.
Dominic arched, back lifting from the bathtub, orgasm at the ready. He uncurled his fingers from the rim of the tub and pinched the tip of his cock so hard he shouted in pain, his orgasm wilting and retreating.
He wept, pinching harder until he was sure the need to come had disappeared. Only then did he release his cock. He gripped the sides of the tub until his knuckles turned white, breath heavy with the remnants of his want and burgeoning regret.
He rested his eyes and his heart until the water grew cold, and by then, it was a new day.
Nine
Reed
The door to Reed’s office slammed open, and a disheveled-looking Catherine stormed inside. She threw her book bag down onto the floor and flung her body into one of Reed’s guest chairs with so much force he was surprised it didn’t topple. Her eyes were red-rimmed and her lashes were damp.
Susan appeared in the doorway, a worried look on her face. Reed held up a hand to stop her, and she closed the door quietly, leaving Reed and Catherine alone.
“To what do I owe this pleasure, Ms. Ollingham?” Reed asked, setting aside his notes for the commencement speech that he was set to deliver in less than an hour.
He was impressed he’d been able to focus on his words at all, having gone over twenty-four hours without talking to Nic again. Which, on its own, shouldn’t have even been that impressive. He had, after all, existed twenty years without Nic, but now that he’d come back, he was like air.
Poisonous air.
Nic had asked him not to call anymore, and he hadn’t so far.
She leveled a sharp look at him, her eyes filled with rage, then promptly burst into tears. Reed shifted awkwardly behind the desk, not wanting to go to Catherine, lest anyone walk in and think something untoward was happening between them.
“Do you want me to go get Mrs. Carson?” Reed asked, gesturing toward the door and referring to Susan by her surname. “Or maybe the nurse?”
"No,” Catherine answered, after her sobbing had quieted into what Reed would describe as a hysterical whimper.
“Are you ready to talk about whatever is going on?”
“Will you tell my mom?” Catherine chewed on her thumbnail.
Reed pulled a tissue from the box on his desk and extended his arm toward her. Catherine took the tissue and wiped her face, balling it into her hand and holding it close to her chest when she was done.
“Only if I feel it’s something she needs to know,” Reed assured Catherine, worried by now she was going to harm herself or someone else.
“I bet you’ll think she needs to know this,” Catherine pouted.
Reed leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest, his ability to maintain his put-together facade dwindling with every minute he went without Nic’s voice fresh in his mind. This was unacceptable.
“Try me,” he proposed.
Catherine swallowed, eyes darting around the room before settling at an arbitrary point on Reed’s desk.
“Mary Francis says I’m going to hell,” she whispered.
“Why on earth would she say that?” Reed asked, affronted.
Catherine sobbed, biting the side of her fist between her braces-covered teeth. She looked up at Reed, her entire face painted with torment.
“I think I’m a lesbian,” she finally said.
Reed’s heart skipped, a breath lodging in his throat.
He uncrossed his arms and flattened his hands against the top of his desk, one hand tapping nervously against his desk pad.
“You think?” he asked.
“I haven’t done anything!” Catherine cried, jumping out of her chair.
Reed motioned for her to sit back down.
“I didn’t accuse you of that,” he said softly.
Catherine worried her lip between her teeth and slowly lowered herself back into the seat.
“All I meant,” he continued, “is that you said you think. I was trying to understand why you think that.”
What he didn’t say was:
Is it because you met someone who makes your heart slam into your ribs?
Is it because you’ve cursed your God for not taking the lust from your life?
“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “Like, no one asks straight kids that. How do you know you’re straight? I just know.”
“Fair enough.”
He scrubbed his hands over his face, taking a deep breath and schooling his features.
“I don’t want to go to hell,” Catherine whimpered. “It’s not even fair. I can’t help this. Why should I need to live a lie? Why does God even care who I love? Is it love my neighbors only if they’re straight?”
“Catherine.” Reed scratched the side of his face, interrupting her protestations. “Some of these questions may be better suited for confession.”
Catherine rolled her eyes. “You know what Father Cowart will say.”
Reed pursed his lips, well aware of what Father Cowart would say, which was precisely why he’d skipped confession last week, although against his better judgement.
“Have you prayed over it?”
“Of course,” she huffed.
There were a thousand words jamming onto the tip of Reed’s tongue, all of them about scripture and verse to aid her in her search for truth, then the biting rebuttal that sounded a lot like Nic, saying…
There’s another way.
“There’s other ways,” Reed said, reflecting on the stockpile of scripture indicating he was lying.
“What?” Catherine asked, her head snapping up. She blinked at him, chin quivering.
“Do you think your parents would love you less if you were gay?” he asked.
“I think they would because God would,” Catherine answered him, the words acidic in the air between them.
“I’m not sure I have advice for you, Catherine,” Reed told her regretfully. Who was he to act as any sort of moral compass with the feel of Nic’s tongue still hot against his lips?
“Of course I shop here,” Reed ground out. “It’s the only store on this side of town.”
Dominic smiled, tapping Reed’s cart out of the way and wandering toward the bagels.
“It is, isn’t it?” He stopped his cart and grinned.
“You don’t even live on this side of town,” Reed grumbled.
“I have your pajamas. In my car.”
Reed’s eyes widened and he flailed his arms around. “Would you keep it down?”
The discomfort and guilt in Reed’s voice were so thick, it stopped Dominic in his tracks. What was he doing? This was wrong of him.
He shook his head, disgusted with himself, and abandoned his cart.
“You’re right, Reed. You know where I live when you decide you want your things.”
“Nic,” Reed protested, wheels on his cart creaking.
“No.” Dominic held his hand up, light reflecting off the band around his finger. He clenched his hand into a fist and shoved it into his pocket. “I’m sorry.”
“I don’t…”
It sounded like Reed was telling him to stay, but he had already put too much space between them. He turned and shrugged, a casual smile on his face to mask his displeasure.
“I forgot my shopping list anyway.”
He spun on his heel and returned to his car, banging his head against the steering wheel until it hurt, then drove back to the parsonage.
He’d barely gotten the front door closed behind him when there was an insistent knock from the outside. He knew who it was, and he debated if opening it up was the best idea. Dominic wasn’t a fool. He’d joined the clergy after graduating from seminary, and he’d never really planned on or cared about having a partner.
He was allowed. The rules of the Episcopalian church were decidedly gray when it came to a stance on gays in the clergy, but the parishes he accepted positions at were always welcoming. Reed’s reappearance in his life had spun his ideas about his future into a tailspin, but after a moment of fleeting hope, he knew it would have been better if he’d never run into Reed again at all.
Dominic ignored the knocking and kicked off his shoes, padding down the hallway to his laundry room. Reed’s pajamas were folded neatly on top of his dryer, free of evidence of their earlier misuse. He returned to the front door as Reed’s knocking turned frantic. Dominic opened the door a crack, blocking entry with his body.
“What are you doing here, Reed?” he asked.
“You can’t just…” Reed flailed a bit, his face pinked from the exertion of it all.
Dominic held out Reed’s pajamas, and he snatched them away, folding them into a smaller ball and tucking them under his arm.
“I’ll leave you alone, Reed. I’m here to stay, but I can shop on the other side of town, so you don’t need to worry about that,” Dominic promised, feeling defeated and alone.
“Nic,” Reed protested, but Nic held up his empty hands.
“It was good seeing you again,” he whispered, pushing the door closed between them and locking it.
Dominic turned and pressed his back against the door, head thumping heavily against the wood. Reed called his name, but Dominic squeezed his eyes closed and covered his ears with his hands, tipping his head forward so his chin rested on his chest. He clenched his jaw together, eyes dampening with angry tears. He shoved off the door, offering a frustrated shout into the empty room before retreating to the point in his house farthest from the front door—the kitchen.
He pulled the bottle of Jameson down from the cabinet, the one he and Reed had shared just two days before, and took a swig, not bothering to dirty a glass. It burned the whole way down, and he shook his head to clear it before pouring another shot straight down his throat.
Dominic contemplated calling Bishop Jenkins to ask for guidance, but the room was swimming by the time he’d thought to appeal for spiritual help. One more swallow of whiskey and Dominic found himself sprawled out in the middle of his living room, half dressed and half drunk. He was aware time had passed; the room was dark, an evening breeze filtering around the room from the open window in the kitchen.
His phone buzzed in his pocket, and his heart sank.
Fucking sank.
He knew who it was.
“No,” he said into the emptiness of his living room. He shook his head from side to side, rolling it across the floor.
The buzzing stopped, then immediately started again.
“No!” he protested, louder this time.
The buzzing wouldn’t stop, the spinning wouldn’t stop. He pried his eyes open and tried to focus on the ceiling, but it swam around his field of vision. Dominic ached. His body, his soul, his heart. To have had Reed so close again, within his reach, only to have him held away by tenents of a religion that wasn’t even his own. Dominic had made his life choices carefully, always leaving a window open in case he found someone to love, in case he found Reed again.
But Reed hadn’t done the same.
Reed…
Reed wouldn’t even admit that he was gay, or at least bi, even as he collapsed into Nic’s arms and cried out his orgasm into Nic’s mouth.
The incessant buzzing.
He answered the call, not even looking at the screen. He put the phone on speaker and dropped it beside his head.
“I can’t do this with you,” he said in lieu of a proper greeting.
“What?” Reed’s voice sounded choked and scared on the other end of the call.
“I respect your understanding of your beliefs,” Dominic slurred, resting his cheek on the floor and trying to figure out which of the two cell phones in front of him was the real one. “I disagree with them, but they’re yours.”
“What do my beliefs have anything to do with any of this?” Reed asked weakly.
“Straight men don’t kiss me the way you kissed me.”
“You kissed me,” Reed whispered.
“Okay,” Dominic agreed. “Sure. I kissed you, and you came with your tongue in my mouth. I’m glad we’re agreed that you didn’t initiate the kiss, though.”
“Why are you being this way?” Reed asked him, sounding hurt.
“What way?” Dominic accused.
“You’re being so mean!”
“Oh, stop,” Dominic bit out through clenched teeth. “I don’t know what you think is going on, or what you think this is, or whatever, but I’m not a toy for you to just… fuck with.”
Reed gasped as the expletive left Dominic’s mouth.
Dominic rolled his eyes and nearly retched up the contents of his stomach.
“I feel a certain way when I see you,” Dominic continued, ready to make himself clear for the first and last time, but was interrupted.
“How do you feel?”
“Lustful.”
“Toward me?” Reed questioned hesitantly.
“Yes.”
The call lapsed into a prolonged silence, until Reed’s breathing grew louder, coming in rough and harsh pants through the phone. If Dominic didn’t know better…
“Reed?” he asked, eyes focusing on the screen of the phone.
“What?” Reed answered, his voice distinguishably thick with what Dominic knew was want.
“Are you…?”
Reed whimpered, and Dominic’s cock throbbed against his leg. The sound Reed made was as clear to his ears now as it had been on Saturday morning just before Reed had come.
“Reed.” He cleared his throat to infuse his voice with some level of command. Maybe if he could convince himself he was in control of whatever was happening between them, it would hurt less in the end.
“Nic,” Reed moaned, the single syllable of his name falling off into a drawn-out sigh.
Dominic closed his eyes, taking the phone off speaker and pressing it against his face with both hands so they had something to do that wasn’t reach down his pants.
“I’m sorry,” Reed whispered.
A minute later, Dominic heard him start to cry. Dominic rubbed his eyes with his thumb and fingers, pulling away to find his skin wet with his own tears. He uttered a curse and took the phone away from his face. He moved onto his knees, dropping the phone onto the floor and balling over into a folded prayer position. He curled his arms around his legs and cried into the space made by his body, hoping it was enough to muffle it from Reed’s ears.
His body jerked with sobs, and he sank his teeth into his forearm, hoping the pain would be enough to still his tears. All it did was make his cock harder. He reached blindly for the phone, bringing it back to his ear. Reed was near hysterical, hiccupping and gasping for breath on the other end of the line. Dominic swallowed, wanting to go to him, to comfort him in some way. If only he could promise they’d be okay, or at least that Reed would be okay. He’d worry about himself later.
“Reed,” he whispered.
Reed cried again, a howl of anguished regret that caused gooseflesh to rise across Dominic’s entire body.
Let me come to you.
Come to me.
I’ll fix it.
I’ll be there for you.
For this.
Us.
All the things Dominic was desperate to say collided on the tip of his tongue and he swallowed them down into the bitter pit of his stomach, instead choosing the words that hurt him the most because he knew they were the ones Reed needed.
“Please stop calling me, Reed.”
Dominic ended the call and turned his phone off, then curled into a ball and cried himself to sleep on the floor.
Hours later, he woke up, his head feeling as heavy as a freight train. He was almost positive he’d been hit by one and it was still jammed into his skull. That was the only explanation for why he felt like he’d been literally wrung dry.
He blinked, the room slowly focusing, and his eyes narrowed on his powered-down cell phone. He was smacked with a painful reminder of the last phone call he’d had, and he swatted at the phone with a frustrated cry, batting it under the couch.
Dominic tried to stand but found his legs weren’t ready, so he chose to crawl to the bathroom, flinging his body over the edge of the tub to turn the taps on. He slumped against the wall, the same place Reed had slumped days before, and waited for the tub to fill.
He maneuvered his way over the edge of the basin, lowering himself into the steaming water. He winced, skin immediately reddening as he submerged himself. It hurt, his entire body feeling like he’d lowered himself into a pit of flames, but he forced it, gritting his teeth until he adjusted to the temperature.
He’d allow himself this and no more. One last hour to think of Reed. One last fantasy. One last wank. He rested his sore head against the inflatable bath pillow behind him and fisted his cock, working the tender skin of his shaft under the surface of the water. His motions made waves, and hot water lapped against the edge of the tub, against his chest, his throat, as his strokes grew shorter and rougher.
Dominic imagined a life where Reed hadn’t been adopted, where he hadn’t joined the clergy, where they’d traveled the country after high school graduation like they’d always planned. His balls drew up against his body, the heat of the bath intensifying the shivers that worked their way across his skin.
This wasn’t new. He’d done this before. Wiping Reed from his mind thirteen years ago, only to find that he’d worked his way back in to Dominic’s daily thoughts, even into his prayers.
Dear Lord, please let me find him, please let him be happy, please let him love me.
Dear Lord, please take this love away from me, it’s too much. I can’t bear this burden anymore.
Dear Lord, loving him is fucking agony.
Dominic tightened his hand around the tip of his cock, orgasm building inside of him. He closed his eyes, Reed’s voice still loud in his ears.
Nic, he’d rasped as he came.
Nic, he’d cried as he realized what he’d done.
Dominic arched, back lifting from the bathtub, orgasm at the ready. He uncurled his fingers from the rim of the tub and pinched the tip of his cock so hard he shouted in pain, his orgasm wilting and retreating.
He wept, pinching harder until he was sure the need to come had disappeared. Only then did he release his cock. He gripped the sides of the tub until his knuckles turned white, breath heavy with the remnants of his want and burgeoning regret.
He rested his eyes and his heart until the water grew cold, and by then, it was a new day.
Nine
Reed
The door to Reed’s office slammed open, and a disheveled-looking Catherine stormed inside. She threw her book bag down onto the floor and flung her body into one of Reed’s guest chairs with so much force he was surprised it didn’t topple. Her eyes were red-rimmed and her lashes were damp.
Susan appeared in the doorway, a worried look on her face. Reed held up a hand to stop her, and she closed the door quietly, leaving Reed and Catherine alone.
“To what do I owe this pleasure, Ms. Ollingham?” Reed asked, setting aside his notes for the commencement speech that he was set to deliver in less than an hour.
He was impressed he’d been able to focus on his words at all, having gone over twenty-four hours without talking to Nic again. Which, on its own, shouldn’t have even been that impressive. He had, after all, existed twenty years without Nic, but now that he’d come back, he was like air.
Poisonous air.
Nic had asked him not to call anymore, and he hadn’t so far.
She leveled a sharp look at him, her eyes filled with rage, then promptly burst into tears. Reed shifted awkwardly behind the desk, not wanting to go to Catherine, lest anyone walk in and think something untoward was happening between them.
“Do you want me to go get Mrs. Carson?” Reed asked, gesturing toward the door and referring to Susan by her surname. “Or maybe the nurse?”
"No,” Catherine answered, after her sobbing had quieted into what Reed would describe as a hysterical whimper.
“Are you ready to talk about whatever is going on?”
“Will you tell my mom?” Catherine chewed on her thumbnail.
Reed pulled a tissue from the box on his desk and extended his arm toward her. Catherine took the tissue and wiped her face, balling it into her hand and holding it close to her chest when she was done.
“Only if I feel it’s something she needs to know,” Reed assured Catherine, worried by now she was going to harm herself or someone else.
“I bet you’ll think she needs to know this,” Catherine pouted.
Reed leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest, his ability to maintain his put-together facade dwindling with every minute he went without Nic’s voice fresh in his mind. This was unacceptable.
“Try me,” he proposed.
Catherine swallowed, eyes darting around the room before settling at an arbitrary point on Reed’s desk.
“Mary Francis says I’m going to hell,” she whispered.
“Why on earth would she say that?” Reed asked, affronted.
Catherine sobbed, biting the side of her fist between her braces-covered teeth. She looked up at Reed, her entire face painted with torment.
“I think I’m a lesbian,” she finally said.
Reed’s heart skipped, a breath lodging in his throat.
He uncrossed his arms and flattened his hands against the top of his desk, one hand tapping nervously against his desk pad.
“You think?” he asked.
“I haven’t done anything!” Catherine cried, jumping out of her chair.
Reed motioned for her to sit back down.
“I didn’t accuse you of that,” he said softly.
Catherine worried her lip between her teeth and slowly lowered herself back into the seat.
“All I meant,” he continued, “is that you said you think. I was trying to understand why you think that.”
What he didn’t say was:
Is it because you met someone who makes your heart slam into your ribs?
Is it because you’ve cursed your God for not taking the lust from your life?
“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “Like, no one asks straight kids that. How do you know you’re straight? I just know.”
“Fair enough.”
He scrubbed his hands over his face, taking a deep breath and schooling his features.
“I don’t want to go to hell,” Catherine whimpered. “It’s not even fair. I can’t help this. Why should I need to live a lie? Why does God even care who I love? Is it love my neighbors only if they’re straight?”
“Catherine.” Reed scratched the side of his face, interrupting her protestations. “Some of these questions may be better suited for confession.”
Catherine rolled her eyes. “You know what Father Cowart will say.”
Reed pursed his lips, well aware of what Father Cowart would say, which was precisely why he’d skipped confession last week, although against his better judgement.
“Have you prayed over it?”
“Of course,” she huffed.
There were a thousand words jamming onto the tip of Reed’s tongue, all of them about scripture and verse to aid her in her search for truth, then the biting rebuttal that sounded a lot like Nic, saying…
There’s another way.
“There’s other ways,” Reed said, reflecting on the stockpile of scripture indicating he was lying.
“What?” Catherine asked, her head snapping up. She blinked at him, chin quivering.
“Do you think your parents would love you less if you were gay?” he asked.
“I think they would because God would,” Catherine answered him, the words acidic in the air between them.
“I’m not sure I have advice for you, Catherine,” Reed told her regretfully. Who was he to act as any sort of moral compass with the feel of Nic’s tongue still hot against his lips?
