Communion (On My Knees Duet 3)

I think we'll escape without anyone getting too close—until we're in the stairwell going to the pastors' wing and we pass one of the secretaries that works up in the pastor’s suite.

She puts her hand on Luke’s shoulder. "Do you guys need anything? I can go back up and get you anything you need."

"No, Cait. We're okay."

"Get some rest."

He doesn't look at me again until we're in the open-concept work area that takes up most of the pastor’s suite. It’s nearly empty, but as we near the larger area where there are more desks, Pearl comes up from behind us and escorts us into Luke's office. We move briskly, past an intern and a few others.

Pearl opens the door for Luke with a key code, and says, "I'll be back in just a little while. You two okay for now?"

Luke nods, meeting her eyes with a grim, strange look on his face.

When she goes, he leads me inside. Then he nearly tosses me toward the couch. He pulls me down onto it before urging me back up. I watch, my brows drawn and my heart racing, as he tosses all the pillows off the couch, pulling out a bed I didn't know was here.

He jerks his tie off, takes his pants off, and is grabbing blankets from a drawer in a table by the couch when someone knocks. He shakes his head once and a moment later, I hear footfall moving away from his door.

We lie down together. Sky pulls blankets over both of us. His arm goes around my waist and he tucks himself against my chest, under my chin the way he does sometimes. And I hold him.

25

Vance

We lie there a long time, and I wonder what he’s thinking. He still feels tense, even though I’m pretty sure we’ve been in here for at least half an hour. He hasn’t moved much, and he isn’t kissing me and rubbing on me like he usually does.

I get it—and I hate it. Our life experiences prevent me from thinking “it couldn’t have gone worse,” but I bet it went a lot worse than he thought it would. Hell, Sky got spit on—in his very own sanctuary.

I rub my hand down the back of his head, which still feels damp. I want to say something to make him feel better. But I don’t know what. I don’t know where he is, like mentally, so I’m not sure what he needs to hear. He may be much more upset than I think he is, or maybe he’s less upset, and if I express sympathy, he’ll think I think he bombed it.

“I love you.” I hold him close. After a minute, he says, “Love you too.”

Then he sits up. He gets off the bed, and I push up on my elbow, and he looks at me with an expression I can’t read. I get off the pull-out mattress, too, and watch as he folds the bed back into the couch.

He checks his phone, and then, without looking my way, he goes to a cabinet behind his desk and takes out a stack of jeans and T-shirts.

I watch as he checks his phone then dresses, loving the sight of his body in motion, hating that he won’t look at me. Then his eyes move to mine, holding before dropping back down to his socked feet. “Might be a late night. Pearl texted. Said the board wants to talk. P.R. wants to talk.” He shakes his head, and finally, some feeling. He looks bitter. “Guess we’re going to sort out how badly I screwed up,” he says in a clipped tone.

"Did you screw up? You seemed pretty fucking smooth to me."

He shuts his eyes, giving a shake of his head. "I walked off without the finish. People who watch, who come here every Sunday, know that. Bet your dick the board knows too."

"I think I'd rather not,” I murmur. “Bet my dick."

He gives me a strained smile. "Yeah, let's not."

"You really think they're gonna give you shit, though?"

He shrugs. I can tell he's on the verge of losing his shit. His whole body looks tense.

“You don’t deserve it. If they do, just try to let it roll off,” I say gently. “You were impeccable, Sky. You did what no one else could have. A fucking class act.”

I’m shocked as his face morphs to fury. “I’m wrecking everything, Vance. Don’t tell yourself it matters how ‘well’ I do or anything like that. Because of me, this place is going up in flames. Because of me, whoever’s here is here to watch a train wreck. Like a circus. And how long till someone finds out about the weekend in Tahoe?” he says, sounding ominous. His voice drops an octave. “I wasn’t the only one they did that to, I’m sure. Then what? How long till stories start from people who are bitter, who think I sounded too okay up there? ‘I was gay at Evermore when I was a kid and someone treated me wrong. Or on the total flipside, Evermore’s not gay enough. It’s not affirming enough. I wasn’t affirmed when I was there for one hour five years ago. So Pastor Luke’s a hypocrite.’