desolate (Grace Trilogy, Book One)

by Autumn Grey

  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.

  “Yes,” I whisper, wondering if Sol is still waiting for me on the other side of the door.

  “You and my nephew,” Father Foster continues, and all thoughts of Sol freeze inside my head. And I’m wondering why, why, why he feels the need to be so chatty today of all days. “He’s a good boy.”

  “I know.” Good boy, my ass.

  Sol is all kinds of bad when he wants to be. I don’t even know what has gotten into him today. He’s acting so different. Bolder than usual.

  “He seems to like you very much.”

  I’m about to ask him if Sol told him that, but I quickly press my lips together and wait for what’s coming next.

  “I assume you feel the same way about him?”

  “Yes,” I murmur. “I mean, he’s a very good friend.”

  He doesn’t say anything for several seconds. It’s the kind of silence that speaks volumes. He doesn’t believe me. “He hasn’t withdrawn his application to the seminary yet.”

  I clear my throat and try to hide how nervous I am. “Do you, um, disapprove of Sol and me spending so much time together?”

  “Most spiritual advisors would disapprove, yes.” He pauses, inhaling deeply. “As his mentor, I should be steering him away from anything that keeps him from focusing on his goals to be ordained. But as his uncle, I want only what’s best for him. Clearly, he’s quite taken with you. The only time I’ve seen him this passionate about something is when he’s talking about how much he wants to follow in my footsteps.”

  Air is suspended between my lungs and throat as I wait for him to continue talking.

  He sighs, and I can see movement on the other side of the mesh. I think he’s covering his mouth or dragging a hand down his face. I can’t tell exactly.

  Finally, I take a deep breath and close my eyes, feeling as conflicted as Sol. My thoughts drift to the boy waiting for me outside this booth; his kindness, the way his eyes light up when he sees me, his smile, his relentless pursuit to be my friend . . . and I know, I know I’m in love with him.

  “What do I do?”

  “Unfortunately, he has to decide which path to follow. Which loss is more bearable.”

  I nod, acknowledging the truth in his words. Fleetingly, I wonder if I’m ready for whatever choice he’ll make.

  I shudder and shake my head, pushing those thoughts away.

  Father Foster hums under his breath like he always does, indicating the end of my session. So I grab my purse and stand, almost running out of the booth, clutching my dress to my legs to keep the cool breeze from hitting my lady bits. I join Sol on the pew and do my assigned penance, then add an extra prayer for good measure. When I’m done, Sol leaps to his feet from the bench. Any lingering thoughts and doubts about Sol and me fade away as he laces his fingers with mine and leads the way out of the church.

  We don’t stop until we’re outside in the parking lot next to his truck.

  “Holy shit!” I breathe out, the impact of what we did flashing in my head. “You’re insane. You know that?”

  He opens the door to the passenger seat, grips me by the waist, and hoists me inside. My butt lands on the warm seat, reminding me I’m not wearing underwear. Because he took them.

  “I’m not enjoying the breeze, Sol. I need my underwear back,” I tell him after he joins me inside the car.

  “Answer this first, and you can have them back.” He slants a smile in my direction. “You more than just like me. True or false?”

  My traitorous mind goes back to our moment inside the confessional box, and I squirm as heat pools between my legs. “True. I more than just like you, Sol.”

  “Good.” He fishes my panties from his pocket and holds them out to me. He eyes the white cotton material in his hands. “Really pretty.”

  I snatch them from his hands, my face on fire, and slip them back on, then straighten my dress.

  “What’s going on? I’ve never seen you like that, Sol.”

  He holds my gaze for several seconds, then shakes his head as if he’s trying to clear it. “I don’t know. I came here to talk to you, but then I—” He sucks in a deep breath and shakes his head again. “Even the sanest person is prone to moments of insanity. I wasn’t in the right frame of mind. I’m really sorry.”

  “It was kind of hot.” I squirm in the seat, heat gathering between my legs just thinking about that version of Sol. “I really liked it.”

  His mouth twists in a crooked smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes, which seem a little troubled. We drive into town, chatting about everything and nothing. I’m still riding the high of doing something so scandalous and not being caught.

  When my phone beeps inside my purse, I pull it out and check my messages. There are three messages from MJ, and she wants to know what time I’ll be at her place. Shit. I completely forgot we were supposed to be hanging out after confession.

  My gaze darts to Sol just as his briefly meets mine, and my pulse quickens at the lingering heat in his eyes.

  “What?” he asks.

  “MJ and I were supposed to hang out later. I promised her I’d go to her place after church.”

  “We could eat lunch, then you could hang out after?” he asks. “There’s this Chinese restaurant I’ve been dying to try out.”

  I nod and quickly type out a text to MJ, letting her know I’ll be at her place in about two hours.

  Sol parks outside the restaurant, then jogs to my side and opens the door for me. He holds out his hand, and I put mine in his, allowing him to help me out. He slams the door behind me, then he’s moving forward, invading my space. I stumble backward until I feel the hard metal of the passenger door digging into my shoulders and back. My line of sight is filled with him and only him as he subtly leans forward, wide shoulders blocking my view, blue eyes watching me intently, and lastly, his scent surrounding me. All I want to do is press my nose into the crook of his neck and breathe him in until I’m drunk on his scent.

  “I really want to kiss you, but I’m afraid I might not stop if I start,” he murmurs.

  “Do it. I’m not going to stop you. I have zero willpower when it comes to you, Sol.”

  “I shouldn’t be leading you on like this. There are about ten million reasons to stop doing this before it gets even messier, but I can’t remember what they are right now—”

  When I slam my mouth onto his, it takes a moment for him to recover from my attack. He groans, his other arm sliding up to wrap around my back, holding me so close I can feel every single hard plane of his chest and abs. The metal of the car behind me digs into my back, but the pain is completely obliterated by the sensations his mouth creates in my body.

  And as I’m sinking deeper into him, a voice in my head yells at me to stop and take a step back. Spare the heartbreak and save my sanity. But my heart, my reckless, stubborn, hungry heart
shuts it down as my need for him takes over. My feelings for Sol have no pride.

  He pulls back a little, brushing his lips on the corner of my mouth as he tames the stormy kiss. “Still starving?” His voice is rough, sending heat pooling in my belly.

  “Yes,” I murmur, smiling. “I could survive on your kisses alone, but I need to stock up on energy.”

  His body shakes with laughter. I’m about to step away from his arms when I feel them tighten around me. “Just . . . let me hold you for a few minutes. I need to, um, calm down.”

  I was so consumed by his mouth that I didn’t notice what was going on south.

  A few minutes later, his fingers lace with mine. He kisses the back of my hand before leading us toward the restaurant.

  “Wait!” I grab his bicep, stopping him. Then I point at the shop next to the restaurant with the words Aunty Rowena Palm Reading Services flashing in neon blue and green. “I’ve always been curious about this. I want to see what they’re all about.”

  “Babe,” he drawls, and I melt. It’s the first time he’s called me that. It’s a simple word, but it just makes me feel special. “Are you serious?”

  “Yes. Come on.” I pull his arm and he lets me.

  Inside Aunty Rowena’s shop, we’re greeted by the scent of burning sage and a different smell I can’t put my finger on. Within seconds, a woman wearing a flowing gown and a headscarf seems to glide into the room. She’s wearing red lipstick, and her lashes seem too long to be normal. When she smiles, I feel warmth in my chest.

  “Welcome to Aunty Rowena’s Parlor.” She waves her arms elegantly. “What can I do for you?” Her gaze is on me now.

  “I was wondering . . . well, I’d like to know my future.” I cut my eyes to Sol. He rolls his eyes, his lips twitching. “Ignore him. He already has his future figured out,” I tell Aunty Rowena.

  She smiles politely at him before turning to face me again. Nodding, she ushers us through a doorway that has green and orange sheer curtains for doors. After silently gesturing for us to take a seat at the reading table, she walks across the room and lights up what looks like a bunch of dried-up twigs. She walks around the room, waving them in the air.

  When she’s done, she comes back to the table and takes a seat. She asks me to place my hand in hers. A look of concentration fills her features. Her fingers trace the lines etched in my skin, her frown deepening.

  “Do you see anything?”

  She nods but doesn’t say anything. I fidget on my seat, uneasiness creeping down my spine.

  Sol puts his hand on my knee and whispers, “Maybe we should go.”

  Aunty Rowena’s fingers tighten around my hand, but still, she doesn’t say a word.

  I shake my head and mouth, “Just a few more seconds.”

  Eventually, she lifts her gaze to mine, and goosebumps erupt on my skin. Her gaze roams my face carefully as if she’s unlocking a certain part of me I didn’t even know existed. I’m starting to freak out. A few minutes ago when Sol and I walked inside this shop, it was purely for fun. Now I feel trapped as a chill grips my heart in its icy claws. I can’t shake it off.

  “This line here.” She points at one of the lines on my palm, the thick one. The life line, I think. “You’ll enjoy a full life, a life full of love and family.” Then she traces the two lines on the side of my hand. “Two hearts, one soul. I see two men in your future. You will be forced to make very difficult decisions. Decisions between life and death. Decisions between the two men in your life.”

  The hairs on the back of my neck rise. I pull my hand back and laugh nervously. “Two men? I doubt that.”

  Her gaze cuts to Sol, then back to me, smiling patiently. “I’m only telling you what I see, child. Your future has yet to play out.” She pulls out a piece of paper from a drawer and scribbles something on it, then slides it in my direction.

  I look at the sum on the paper, dig out a couple of ten-dollar bills, and set them on the table as I stand. “Thank you,” I mutter as I turn and trail Sol out the door.

  Sol wraps his arm around my shoulders and tugs me close as we head to the restaurant next door, but I’m no longer hungry. I’m still thinking about what she said. About decisions between life and death and what that could possibly mean. Decisions between two men . . . I’m already feeling the weight of losing Sol pressing down on me, and it hasn’t happened yet.

  “I don’t believe her,” he announces confidently. “No one has that kind of power to tell the future. Only God knows what he has planned for you.”

  I nod, desperate to believe him. I’ve never been one to believe fortune telling or superstitions, but something was so eerie about the way she was looking at me. Aunty Rowena’s words have already burrowed themselves inside my bones, and I can’t seem to dig them out.

  “Dude. Did you just fart?” MJ asks, lifting her head and turning to look at me.

  “Oh, shut up,” I pant, trying to breathe through this awful yoga position. My legs are spread, my butt is sticking up in the air, and my fingers are wrapped around my ankles. “I can’t believe you talked me into doing this. I swear this pose should be banned.”

  She snorts, shifting positions effortlessly and standing on one leg while the other is stretched in front of her. Her hands move forward to grasp the sole of her foot. She rests her head on her knee. “Come on, lazy butt. We’re almost done.”

  I straighten and attempt to imitate her, but I lose my balance and fall on my backside with a squeal. “Ack. I am too lazy for this shit,” I moan, stretching flat on my back on my mat, watching MJ execute her pose perfectly.

  After leaving the restaurant, Sol dropped me off at St. Peter’s to collect my car. Then I drove to MJ’s place, still thinking about Rowena’s words. The second I walked inside MJ’s apartment, she seemed determined to carry out some sort of initiation to social media. Apparently, she looked me up on Facebook but couldn’t find anything. I thought she was going to faint when I told her I didn’t have an account. So the first thing we did was set one up, then I added her, Ivan, and Sol to my friends list.

  The thing is, I had an account up until sophomore year, but I deleted it after breaking up with Gavin. I couldn’t stand seeing all the mean posts and comments circulating on my friends’ timelines. Besides, the friends I’d made in the time he and I were together turned their backs on me, so I had no interest in being social after that. The pain wasn’t worth it.

  “Sol is right, you know. No one has that kind of power to predict the future,” MJ says, interrupting my train of thought, referring to what I told her while she was setting up my Facebook account. I tuck my arms beneath my head and face her. “But I’d be freaked out if I were in your shoes and someone told me that. I mean, decisions between life and death? Who wants to hear that when they’re, like, eighteen?”

  She straightens to her full height and wipes the beads of sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand, then effortlessly lies down on the mat. I wish I had that kind of grace.

  She winks at me. “Wanna make out?”

  The change of subject jars me, and I blink rapidly. “W-what?”

  She grins saucily. “You’re staring at me like you want to jump me.”

  “Wait, what?” I’m still trying to catch up with this turn of conversation. “I am?”

  She bursts out laughing, clutching her middle with her arms. “Oh, God,” she says between hiccups, then points a finger in my direction. “You should see your face.”

  I chuckle, appreciating the sound of her laugh, thinking how much I’m enjoying her company. She sounds so carefree and happy, and it’s infectious. “What if I’d said yes?”

  “Well, we’ll never know now, will we?” She laughs, then flips onto her stomach and reaches for her phone from the table we pushed to the side to make more space for our yoga session. She murmurs something about texting Ivan back as her fingers fly over the keyboard. She tosses the phone on her mat, then flops onto her back again.

  “Sol and I kisse
d in church today,” I blurt out.

  There’s a long moment of silence. “You did what?”

  The memory of Sol’s heated eyes, wicked mouth, and naughty hands sends heat pooling in my belly. I rub my thighs together and smother a sigh. I’m so lost in that flashback my eyes shut and I imagine him on top of me, shirt and pants off, his hard length grinding between—

  “Grace!” My eyes fly open, and I find MJ watching me curiously. “You can’t just tell me you two kissed in church and then leave me hanging like that.”

  I press my hands on my heated cheeks. “We kissed.” I take a deep breath. “In the confessional box.”

  Her mouth gapes, her eyes wide.

  “I know. It was super-hot. I’ve never seen him like that. Is it wrong I loved it? I mean, we were in church. Who makes out in church?”

  Her mouth closes, and she clears her throat. “Okay, back up a bit. Are we talking about the same guy here? Church boy? Our perfect, innocent man-child? Solomon Callan?”

  I nod, remembering the way he pulled down my panties with the playful glint in his eyes. A shiver runs down my spine. “Believe me, he’s far from innocent.”

  “Wow. That’s so scandalous.” She laughs, clapping her hands, but suddenly stops, her eyes going wide. “If Luke finds out . . .”

  “Sol left as soon as his uncle entered the other booth.”

  She grins wide. “So you two finally admitted your feelings for each other? This calls for a celebration. Brandy or tequila? Or weed? I have a small stash Ivan left here a few days ago.”

  I laugh. “Why am I not surprised?”

  Just then her phone starts to ring. She grabs it from the table and swipes a finger on the screen to answer. Her whole expression turns soft, and I know she’s talking to her boyfriend. I stand and head to the kitchen for a glass of water.

  She ends the call a few minutes later and jumps to her feet. “Forget the tequila. We’re going out.”

  “Oh. Where?” I ask, setting the still-full glass on the counter.

  “Fisher’s Gold.” I blink at her, not comprehending. “It’s a coffee shop downtown. They have karaoke night every Thursday.”