“I hear ya.” She laughed, bumping the door back with her rear end. “Catch you guys later. It was nice to see you, Ace!”
The door clicked shut, and another dryer buzzed.
Wallace looked a little confused, hesitating before he moved to get his clothes from the dryer.
“Sorry about that.” I got up and pulled my own dryer door open, reveling in the heat that swirled out to greet me. It smelled like fields in bloom, and I inhaled deeply. “She has a thing for giving people nicknames.” I glanced around the door. “Sometimes she calls me Ree.”
“It’s fine.” He shook his head and went about his business, not bothering to look at me.
An awkward silence settled between us as I folded my clothes, laid his on the bench, and cleaned out the lint trap. Gross. The muted rainbow of fuzz definitely belonged to more people than just me. I shuddered, flinging it into the trashcan.
“So, I’m a church guy?” His voice startled me as it echoed around the empty room. “That’s my new category?”
I stopped gathering my things to look at him. “What?”
“Well, you spoke for me and used it as an excuse, so I assumed it was my new title. I guess I should be happy I’m not the crazy guy anymore.”
My nerves twitched. I did say that, didn’t I? It hadn’t even occurred to me that he might’ve taken offense. “I’m sorry. Did you want to go? I can call her or some—”
“I didn’t want to go.” He crossed the space between us in two long strides, laying my clothes in a neat pile atop my basket. “I was just wondering what one had to do with the other.”
I felt sick to my stomach, realizing how I’d come across. “I just figured, since you’re so religious, you wouldn’t want to go bar hopping with people. I really didn’t mean to insinuate anything.”
When he didn’t reply, I grabbed his clothes from the bench and folded them. “Sorry, uh, here. Thanks for letting me borrow them.”
He took them, and his hands brushed mine for the briefest of seconds. “You’re welcome.”
We stood there for a moment, both hesitating, and I couldn’t look away. Sometimes he just stared at me, like he could see into the depths of my soul or something. It was unnerving, but at the same time, stirred some kind of response in me. Time hung in the air around us…
Until the door screeched open and a girl barged in, toting a massive laundry bag.
He cleared his throat and shut both dryer doors before turning his back to me. With quick, fluid movements, he grabbed his basket and set it on the bench. Before I could say anything, he took mine and set it on top of his.
“What are y—”
“C’mon.” He hefted them both without so much as an awkward grimace, making the act look effortless as he strode past, eyes locked on the door.
It irked me a little.
“Aww! My boyfriend never carries my laundry.” The girl stared at us with googly eyes, her lips tilted in a wistful smile.
“Oh…no. He’s not my…we’re not…” I shook my head and waved her off. “Not my boyfriend, sorry.” My face burned as I ducked my head down and trotted past him. With a quick twist of the handle, I opened the door and jerked my chin for him to slip past.
“Thanks.”
“You too, Hercules.” I followed him into the hall and pushed the call button for the elevator. “You really don’t have to do that, you know. I’m fully capable of carrying my own basket.”
He leveled me with a heavy gaze. “It’s fine.”
“Are you mad at me?” Did I just say that out loud?
One dark eyebrow lifted. “What?”
“Nothing,” I muttered, looking down at my shoes. “You’re not just some church guy, okay?” Not just some church guy? What was wrong with me tonight? The semi-truck of failure had rounded the corner, and I was caught in its headlights.
Ding!
I leapt at the chance to escape the conversation, even though it meant having to hold the doors open. For once, my fear of looking stupid outweighed my fear that the elevator would chomp on my arm. Saving face was more important.
“Don’t worry about it.” He maneuvered around me to stand in the middle of the small compartment. “It’s fine.”
I drew in a deep breath and slowly released it, stepping back to press the buttons for the fourth and seventh floors. “I’m just trying to say I’m sorry. I don’t know anything about you or your church, and it was stupid of me to assume.”
“Do you want to?”
I leaned back against the metal bar, eyeing him. “Want to what?”
“Know.” He lifted one shoulder in a shrug, keeping a firm grip on the baskets. “You can come check it out, if you want. Maybe it’ll convince you I haven’t taken some monk oath.”
“Um…” I looked up and watched the floor numbers change. “Sure, I guess that would be cool.” Claustrophobic thoughts of a stuffy sanctuary sprang to mind, and I did my best not to shudder. I wanted to spend time with him, but church was so…
“Hey,” he spoke up as the doors chimed open on the fourth floor. “You don’t have to. I’m just giving you an open invitation.” He stepped out into the hallway. “I’d even give you a ride.”
I opened and shut my mouth, following after him. “You’re going to miss your elevator.”
He fixed me with another look—only this time, his eyes softened with the slightest bit of understanding. “Point taken.”
“Wait!” I waved my hands out, blocking the doors “No. I mean, sure. What else am I doing Sunday morning? Well, not to say that it’s unimportant. I…I will go. Yes.” With frazzled nerves, I marched around the corner, toward my suite door. If he’d come off the elevator, he was obviously willing to carry the thing to my room.
A chill shot down my spine. Was he going to come in? Had I left the place dirty? I wrenched the suite door open and bumped it back with my hip. When he caught it, I set to work on the lock, hoping to get in first to make a quick sweep.
“Sounds good.” He set the baskets down on the couch and pulled mine off the top. “Want to just meet me in the lobby around quarter ‘til nine?”
“That’s fine,” I said as he loaded the basket into my arms. “Thanks again.”
“Don’t worry about it.” The corners of his lips lifted, and I felt a little lighter. “I guess I’ll see you then.”
I watched as he grabbed his own basket and shifted it to open the door. “Y-Yeah, okay. See ya.” I couldn’t help but smile back as he gave me a quick, departing nod and disappeared into the hallway.
He never had any intention of using the neo-chivalry bit to wedge himself into my room. That, alone, could’ve separated him from half of the male population at Wilcox. Now he was taking me to church? I gave the door a shove and finagled my way inside. That man definitely kept me on my toes.
And I was starting to like it.
Chapter Thirteen
By the time Sunday morning rolled around, I’d already talked myself out of a dress. It was just a small chapel outside of campus. Would they really get that bent out of shape over something as stupid as dress code?
Maybe.
I didn’t care, though. After much deliberation, I’d paired my dark, silk blouse with an ash gray skirt, and a pair of black tights. If that wasn’t conservative, I didn’t know what was. Now who’s rockin’ the winter tights, Cafeteria Girl? I grinned.
As soon as the elevator arrived on the ground floor, I headed straight for the lobby. For whatever reason, I couldn’t stand the thought of Wallace having to wait for me. He’d probably be scorned for dragging in a heathen as it was. I wasn’t going to add tardiness to his charges.
“Wow.”
I recognized his voice before I spotted him leaning against the wall, one leg bent in a casual stance, looking handsome as ever. I flicked a glance over my shoulder, trying to find the source of his praise. “What?”
“You…” He pushed off the wall and turned his head, carefully avoiding my eyes. “You look good. Not th
at you don’t always…look good. You look great.” He forged ahead, pushing the door open. “We should go.”
My heart gave a squeeze as I slipped past him. That was a compliment, wasn’t it? “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he muttered, shoving his hands down into his pockets as we made for the parking lot. The sun was bright against the snow, and I immediately missed my sunglasses. Thankfully, the one thing I’d gotten right had been my choice of footwear. From the knees down, I was all snug and warm in my gray boots. No heel.
He pulled a set of keys from his pocket and strode ahead to a black, salt-covered Ford F-150. “Sorry, I should’ve had it warming up.” He unlocked the passenger door and held it open, offering me a hand up. “I guess I’m not used to having someone with me.”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine.” I reached up to get a good grip and grasped his hand. The contact, though brief, burned amid the icy temperatures, and I struggled to find the foothold before he hoisted me into the cabin. “Th-Thanks.”
He nodded, checking again to make sure I was clear before he shut the door.
I buckled my seatbelt while he walked around the truck. The seat’s chill was already starting to seep through my skirt, but it didn’t matter. With us being on our way to church, it was probably best to ice downstairs anyway.
He climbed inside. “Ready?”
“Mhmm,” I managed, watching as he fastened his own seatbelt. vzyl
A low buzz pulsed from his pocket, and he pulled his phone out just enough to see the caller ID. “Ugh.”
“What?”
“Nothing,” he muttered, cramming it back down in his pocket. “It wasn’t anyone important.”
The chapel was at least three minutes away and I had, at best, two minutes of small talk prepared. I ran my palms down the front of my skirt as the truck rumbled to life. What else could we possibly talk about?
As if reading my mind, Wallace reached over and twisted a knob on the dash. Familiar music pounded through the speakers, and the tension inside the cabin melted away. My hero.
We rode without need for conversation and, before I knew it, we were there. Getting out of the truck was a little harder than getting in, but he managed to help me down without incident. Either he was really chivalrous, or he was under the impression that I was helpless. The latter seemed more likely, given our last icy experience.
Not that I blamed him.
I straightened my skirt as we made for the entrance. The scent of fire and brimstone mixed with the crisp, winter air, and I immediately straightened my posture. I’ve already renounced excessive drinking, okay? I projected the thought like a defensive, anti-guilt shield as we made our way up the sidewalk. Thankfully, it’d already been shoveled and salted. I wouldn’t be giving a repeat performance of my greatest falls.
I glanced up at the old, stone chapel and felt my stomach twist in knots. It was weird going into a service cold, both figuratively and literally. Sure, I’d known Wallace for a couple of weeks now, but that didn’t make me comfortable with the arrangement. I was still an outsider.
Oh well. It was too late to worry about it now. I’d just have to pull up my big girl panties and act like a grownup. I lifted my chin and took quick, clipped strides toward the stairs that led to the arched entryway. I could do this.
“That excited to get inside?” an amused voice called from directly behind me.
“You know it,” I lied, gripping the railing like a lifeline as I made my way to the door.
He chuckled, and I didn’t have to see him to know he was shaking his head.
“Good morning!” someone called from the doorway, beckoning us inside. “Chilly one, isn’t it?”
Gah! It was Cafeteria Girl. I’d summoned her with my winter tights…
I plastered on my friendliest expression and brushed past her, slipping into the dark foyer. So, this was how he knew her. Or, at least, this could’ve been where they’d met. It all made sense now.
She was the Mary Poppins incarnate on door duty, stationed to greet everyone who came in for morning services. I turned around. If I figured correctly, I’d be getting a—
“Would you like a bulletin?” Her voice was sweet as candy as she slipped the pamphlet into my waiting hands. “Welcome to Campus Fellowship!”
“Thank—”
“Hey, Wallace!” Her face brightened as she craned her neck to meet his eyes in such close quarters. “How’s it going?” She passed him a bulletin without breaking her gaze.
“Pretty good, thanks. How’re you, Rach?” He put a hand on my back, urging me forward so he could get out of the doorway. When the door closed, the room dimmed and grew intimate.
Rach? They’re that close?
“I’m great. Thank you for asking.” Her face had to hurt from keeping that peppy expression up all the time. My face hurt, and I’d only been smiling for a minute. “Who’s your friend?”
The weight of his hand on my back disappeared. “This is Rena.” He edged around me, gesturing between us. “Rena, this is Rachel.”
Something about the girl vexed me so. She stood half a head taller than me, with meticulously-combed hair, a flimsy, floral print dress, and a cardigan sweater. In the dead of winter. Oh, and of course, she had worn the tights again.
She nodded, and her hazel eyes were light with mirth. “So great to meet you, Rena! I hope you’ll come back and visit us again sometime.”
I twisted my lips back and prayed it didn’t look as maniacal as it felt. “Maybe.”
Wallace rocked on his heels and looked around at the others assembled in the foyer. “We better go find a seat. We’ll catch you inside.”
“Sure thing.” She beamed and peeked out through the glass, readying herself for the next onslaught of parishioners.
Sure thing, she says. Ugh. I took a step back. The foyer was warm and smelled like brewing coffee. Synthetic candlelight flickered overhead, casting a soft glow on the carpet as people milled around, lost in conversation. If I had to guess, I’d say most of them were around my age. They wore everything from sweatshirts and jeans to dresses and ties. Everyone had a different definition of Sunday best, and they were all represented without discrimination.
I knew I should’ve gone with jeans.
The sound of a live beat came from around the corner, and I blinked toward the opening to the sanctuary. Soon, a guitar riff joined in, and nobody seemed to notice. Didn’t they hear that?
“C’mon.” Wallace gestured over his shoulder as he smoothly made his way through the crowd.
I stayed close, afraid of getting separated. On my own turf, I would’ve had no problem, but here? I had butterflies.
A few people stopped their conversations long enough to nod a greeting as we passed, and I returned them as best I could, but keeping up with Wallace’s long strides wasn’t exactly easy. I was about to say something, when we turned the corner.
And the view left me speechless.
Chapter Fourteen
The chapel hadn’t seemed this large from the outside. It was like stumbling upon an ancient temple, deep within the recesses of a cave. Pew after pew of rich mahogany stretched before us, tinted in stained-glass shades of blue and violet.
Though the building had to date back at least a hundred years, it had clearly adapted to the modern world. There was a sound booth in back, a couple projectors hung from the rafters, and announcements scrolled across two screens up front. Set up on stage was a band of five guys and two girls, rocking out to some Jesus song and completely lost in the music.
I stood there, slack-jawed, until Wallace came back into view.
“Where do you want to sit?”
I blinked.
“Where do you usually sit? I don’t want to take someone’s seat.” I’d made that mistake before.
His lips twitched. “Last time I checked, there weren’t assigned seats.”
I scoffed, looking around. There were quite a few people already scattered throughout the sanctuary. I d
idn’t want to sit anywhere prominent. “Doesn’t matter to me.”
I could’ve sworn he rolled his eyes as he turned to scan the room.
“All right, let’s go with the back.” He marched to the right with renewed determination, assuming the most remote spot in the room. “This okay?” He’d half bent, pausing before taking his seat.
“Yeah, it’s fine.” I sat alongside him, feeling another stirring of nerves. “Sorry, I guess the place threw me off. It’s not what I expected.”
“What’d you expect?” He shrugged out of his coat and draped it over the back of the pew.
I swallowed. “Uh…” Something about the way he wore those crisp button-ups and ties intimidated the hell out of me. He looked like a man—a grown man—and I didn’t know how to act around him. As far as I knew, he was only a year older than me, but sometimes he felt so out of reach.
“I don’t know,” I answered, laying my coat beside me. As horrible as it was, I hoped it would serve as a deterrent to anyone who might consider the seat beside mine. “It’s not as stuffy as most churches I’ve been in.”
“Ah.” He nodded as if that made perfect sense. “It’s definitely not your typical church, I’ll give you that. The pastor is really cool. He lets a lot of the students run things.” He gestured toward the front. “Like praise and worship.”
“That’s cool,” I admitted. “My last church just had one of those creepy, old organs stuffed in the corner. It’s probably on some donor list now.”
He shook his head, chuckling under his breath. “The way you see things…”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
I narrowed my eyes. “What do you mean ‘nothing’?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re doing it on purpose!” I slapped his arm and immediately whipped my head around to make sure no one had seen. “Sorry.”
He grinned and leaned in like a conspirator, lowering his voice. “You’re going to get in trouuuble…”
“I said I was sorry,” I hissed, clutching at my hand.
Strength (Mark of Nexus #1) Page 9