I’m not sure what she meant by that, but I didn’t care. I just wanted her to go now. “Priests do not have sex all the time, Lily. If they do, it’s wrong.”
Then I said something that for the life of me, I couldn’t understand; I hadn’t meant to share it at all, much less with Lily. “If I could have those kinds of relations with a woman and my relationship with God, Lily…it wouldn’t be with you.
“I’m sorry, but there’s someone else that I’d have in a heartbeat, but even though I have feelings for her, I can’t have her. All I feel for you is friendship, Lily. My body’s responses are just hormones.”
She looked angry and narrowed her eyes at me. “You were the only man who ever turned me down, you know that? The rest of them jump at the chance. I kno
w I’m hot, Jace. I work hard at it. I know you think I’m hot. I can see it on your face…and in your pants. Last chance, Jace; I’ll take you to heaven.”
What she was saying was both vain and blasphemous. She’ll take me to heaven? No, she’ll send me straight to hell. “I can’t, Lily.”
With an even angrier tone she said, “Fine! You ruined the plans for my life once, Jace. You were supposed to marry me, not God. We were supposed to have a life together.”
Her face softened again as she gave it one last try, “You don’t have to be a priest; it’s just a job. I’m worth it.”
“It’s not a job, Lily. It’s a calling. I’m really sorry, but you should go now.” She’d completely turned me off, the more she talked.
She went over to the table and picked up her basket. She stomped angrily to the front door and stopped. “I don’t think I can just be your friend, Jace.”
I just nodded. I was sad about that, but I wasn’t going to sleep with her to prove I wanted to be her friend. We would both regret it; I knew I would for sure.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Daphne
I spent my day off running errands, cleaning my apartment, and doing laundry. Anything to keep from thinking about Jace, but it didn’t work. I still thought about him all the time. I wondered what he was doing. I wondered if he was with Lily, and then I scolded myself and then I wondered again.
I wondered if I was just a horny slut or if he really was special. It felt like a lot more than lust, but I didn't have anything to compare it to. When I was at work, I would imagine him walking in the diner. When I was at home, I’d imagine him knocking on the door. When I went to church on Sunday, I sat in the pew and tried to act like I was listening to mass, when in fact, I was looking at him.
He was so perfect; I felt so drawn to him. I couldn't concentrate on what I was supposed to be concentrating on when I looked at him, not even church.
Contrary to what I’d been doing lately, I loved my church. I loved God. I loved being a Catholic woman. I didn't want my obsession, or whatever it was, with Jace to ruin that. But I didn't know what to do about it.
Carla went with me to church and she tried to get me to go over and talk to him after the service. I wanted to, but he was surrounded by all of the “good” Catholics that had honestly listened to his words during mass and had taken them to heart, I’m sure. He didn’t have time for dredges like me.
So, I steered her out of the church in a different direction so we could have lunch before she had to catch her bus home. She didn’t miss how distracted I was during our meal and was well-aware of what was on my mind.
“Maybe you should just tell him.”
“Tell him? You mean go to my priest and say, ‘Hey, I can’t think about anything but you. I get horny every time I look at you.’ Is that what you mean?”
“It’s not the same as just going to your priest and telling him that. You had sex with this guy.”
“Shh!” The waitress was walking by right as she said that. “I realize that, Carla. But the night we did talk and I tried to kiss him, he made it clear that what happened between us was over. Talking to him is not going to help. As a matter of fact, it might make things worse. Putting temptation in front of him repeatedly makes me a horrible person.”
“Okay, then here’s what you do. Your next day off, you get dressed up really sexy and you go out. Don’t get drunk — that’s dangerous when you’re alone. But have a drink or two and loosen up, baby girl.
“Find another guy to hook up with. Make sure you ask him what he does for a living before you have sex with him and if it’s not illegal or immoral, do it. Maybe that’s all you need… Sometimes all a girl needs is a good lay.”
“Carla! That’s quite enough, thank you. I’m not going to use one guy to get over another one.”
She rolled her eyes at me. “You know nothing about men.”
“Why do you say that?”
She laughed. “Because it’s true, baby girl. Men don’t think of being used for sex as being used. They love it. They want you to use them. They’d stamp it into their foreheads if they could get away with it: ‘please use me for sex, any time.’”
I laughed. “You have a very skewed perception of men, you know that?”