by Dakota Rebel
“Callum—"
“Father Ryan,” I corrected him. It wouldn’t do to allow any familiarity between us. Any inch I gave him could be stretched a mile that I couldn’t handle.
“Father Ryan,” he amended. “I swear to you I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable. I’ve tried ignoring my feelings, tried rationalizing that it’s like you said, just an infatuation with an authority figure. But that’s not what this is.”
“What do you think it is then?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I love you.”
“Declan, you don’t even know me. We spend at most a few hours a week together, and most of that is my preaching at you from the pulpit. You can’t possibly love me.”
“You don’t think I know what love is?”
“I didn’t say that.” I answered him gently. “I’m only trying to get you to look at this rationally. I’m a priest and you’re my student. I’m almost eight years older than you. And, did I mention, I’m a priest. I realize you’re not actually Catholic, but surely you understand what that means.”
He looked at his feet, kicking a rock as he slid his hands in his pockets. He nodded but wouldn’t look back up at me.
“Are you going home for Thanksgiving?” I asked him, changing the subject. Declan had looked so dejected that I would have done almost anything to bring a smile to his face.
“No,” he said, starting to walk again. “Ben is, but I’ve got some studying I need to catch up on.”
Declan’s twin brother was just about the polar opposite of the hockey player. Ben was quiet, studious, and had only come to St. Catherine’s because he couldn’t stand the thought of being too far away from his brother.
Or that’s what Declan had told me in his first confession when school started in September. I hadn’t even been sure back then why Declan was attending confession. Neither he nor his brother were actually Catholic.
But I’d found out soon enough. It had taken only a couple weeks to figure out that Declan was using confession as a way to talk to me more often. Then he began his graphic descriptions of his dreams, his fantasies, about me.
Once that began, my dreams of him had started. He’d put me in a very precarious position that I didn’t appreciate. But I also hadn’t forced him to stop. I refused to admit the truth about my feelings for the young man, because they were irrelevant. He and I could not, would not ever, be he and I.
“What about you?” Declan asked, pulling me from my thoughts.
“I will be leaving Wednesday after six o’clock mass,” I informed him. “My family lives in Clare and we spend most holidays together.”
“Do you have a large family?” he inquired, looking up at me and squinting against the sun.
“I have three brothers and a sister, though I don’t think she’ll be joining us this year. She’s a Freshman at Notre Dame, and it’s not as easy for her to make it home.”
“What are their names?”
“Ronan, Murphy, Niall and Lizzy,” I answered, not sure why he wanted to know.
“Are you guys close?”
“Why are you so curious about my family?” I asked him.
He shrugged and stopped walking again. I looked around and realized that we were suddenly alone in the small park off campus.
“Callum—”
“Father Ryan,” I insisted, shaking my head in annoyance. “Declan, you cannot continue to try to be so familiar with me.”
“When will you return to school?” he asked.
“Sunday evening,” I informed him. “Father Morris will take my Sunday masses. I suggest you attend them. Maybe you will learn something.”
He grinned, his blue eyes sparkling in the bright sunlight that filtered through the autumn tinged leaves on the trees surrounding the park.
Declan was breathtaking. My heart constricted as a thousand scenarios played through my head at once. If I weren’t a priest. If he weren’t a student. If our lives had been completely different, what might we have together?
“You like me,” he whispered, trying to wink but only managing to blink both eyes a few times.
“You wink like a toddler,” I responded stiffly, refusing to smile despite how absolutely adorable he was.
He stepped forward, dangerously close to being too close, but not enough to appear inappropriate should anyone walk by and see us.
“Callum, I am a grown man. I may not have ever had sex before, but I’m guessing neither have you. I am not a child. I am not some rube with my head in the clouds. I want you.” He held up his hand, forestalling the argument he must have seen I was about to put forth. “I know you’re a priest. I understand that you have taken your vows and you serve God. But I also know that you’re a man. And I see how you look at me.”
“Don’t do this to me,” I begged him. “You don’t understand what you’re asking.”
“If you didn’t want me around you, you would have gotten rid of me by now.” He took another step forward, as if daring me to back down from him.
I could feel his breath on my neck, could smell his aftershave on the breeze that blew around us. He was so close to me that it was difficult to keep from touching him.
“Last chance,” he whispered. “Tell me to fuck off, and I’ll go. Tell me, honestly, that no part of you wants any part of me. Tell me that you’ve never once thought about me the way that I think about you. I’ll go. Hell, I’ll transfer schools again. Go to the pros early. Anything you need me to do. But you have to tell me.”
I stared down into his eyes, trying with all my might to make myself say the words that I was duty and honor bound to say to him.
But they wouldn’t come.
Declan stepped back and nodded once. Then he turned on his heel and walked away, back toward school, leaving me alone to hang my head in shame and pray to the lord to forgive me for what I was doing to this poor kid.
It wasn’t right to give him hope. I could never touch him. Could never have the kind of life with him that he deserved.
But the thought of him leaving had made my blood run cold. I couldn’t have him, and he could not have me. But I would keep him as close as I was allowed to, for as long as he would put up with our situation.
Fuck.
I needed to talk to someone. As I walked back to campus on my own, I realized that my brother Niall was really the only man I could trust to just listen to me without judging me. At least, I hoped he would.
Chapter Four
~Declan~
I was playing a dangerous game with Callum. But I’d meant what I’d said. If there was honestly no chance, at all, that he felt anything for me, I would have left. But knowing he couldn’t push me away, gave me the spark of hope I needed to continue pursuing him.
Now, though, I could back down a little, give him some space. He thought about me. I knew it for sure. I didn’t have to be in his line of vision every time he turned around.
“You’re really not coming home?” Ben asked as he packed his bag for the long weekend.
“Nah,” I said. “I seriously do need to study. Coach has been working me extra practices ever since the rumors started about pro scouts showing up and now I’m falling behind.”
“Yeah, you get that fat lipper mouthing off to him about it?” Ben teased.
“No.” I ran my tongue over my swollen lower lips and grimaced. “Got in a fight with one of the reserves on the ice this afternoon. Asshole caught me with a cheap shot over the shoulder of the guy trying to break us up.”
“Jealousy?” Ben asked.
“When isn’t it?” I rolled my eyes. “I didn’t ask to be scouted yet. And if they’d pick up their damn pace, maybe they’d all get a look, too.”
“When are the scouts coming?” Ben dropped onto his bed and looked over at me.
“I don’t know exactly,” I admitted. “Hell, I don’t know if they’re actually going to show at all. Sometimes I think coach floats those rumors himself to get us all to try harder.”
“
Bullshit,” Ben scoffed. “You’re the best player in college sports right now. Dude, you were on ESPN two nights ago. The scouts will show. And they’ll get you, too. So, I don’t know why you’re worrying about grades.”
I was worried about my grades because I didn’t want to get kicked out of school before I got my happily ever after with Callum. But I wasn’t about to admit that to anyone.
The scouts could try all they wanted, but they’d have to wait for graduation or a miracle, because I wasn’t going anywhere without Father Ryan.
“I don’t get how you can get out of coming home and mom’s actually proud of you instead of pissed.” Ben threw his pillow at me.
“You should try scraping some C’s once in a while,” I told him, throwing the pillow back. “You set her expectations way too high.”
“Not my fault I got all the brains and good looks and you got stuck with an amazing sport talent and a weird fetish for priests.” Ben shrugged.
“Don’t do that,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Not all priests. One priest. And it’s not a fetish. It’s…” I trailed off, not wanting to tell my brother that I was falling in love with someone who was required to continue pushing me away.
“I don’t care,” Ben said, holding up his hands. “Seriously. I don’t want to talk about you wanking off in the middle of the day ever again. I’m sorry I brought it up.”
He stood up and slung his bag across his chest. We clasped hands and back slapped each other then I watched him walk out the door. I gave it a few minutes, then followed him out. It was getting late, and I needed to get across campus to the chapel for the six o’clock service. It would be my last chance to see Callum for a while and I didn’t want to miss it.
I had just settled into the pew when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked up to see Father Ryan staring down at me. There was an expression on his face that I didn’t understand.
“Mr. McNair, what on earth has happened to your face?” Callum studied me for a moment, his hand rising as if to touch the gash across my lip, but he dropped it again before actually reaching out, changing the motion to shake my hand.
“Just blowing off some steam on the ice,” I assured him, standing up and holding out my own hand to shake his.
“Well, take care of it. And enjoy your holiday,” he said stiffly.
When we clasped palms, I felt a folded piece of paper being shoved into mine. Callum released my hand quickly and walked up the aisle, stopping to speak with a few others on his way to the pulpit.
I opened the note and had to grip the back of the pew to keep from falling over at the words I saw scrawled across the paper.
Go pack. Bring your books. No promises.
I wasn’t sure exactly what was going on, but I wasn’t about to lose an opportunity to be alone with him. As casually as I could, I made my way to the exit, then sprinted across campus back to my room to do as I’d been told.
Chapter Five
~Callum~
God was testing me. I was sure of it.
And I was going to fail.
Speaking with Niall had been no help whatsoever. He’d reminded me that my decision to become a priest in the first place was just the most impressive display of avoidance that he’d ever seen, and the family were still taking bets on when I’d leave the fold.
As if that hadn’t been bad enough, I was then cornered by Declan’s coach, who had pleaded with me to spend some time with his star player over the long weekend, to help the kid with his studies so he wasn’t kicked out of his scholarship program.
God was testing me.
And finally, Monsignor Dunn himself had suggested that it might be a good idea if I were to invite Declan McNair to my family home so that he wouldn’t have to spend Thanksgiving alone.
God was testing me.
And this was how I found myself in my car, doing seventy-five down 23-South, with a twenty-one-year-old man-child practically bouncing with excitement in the passenger seat next to me.
“You’re like a fucking golden retriever,” I snapped at him finally, knocking his hand away from the radio. “Calm down.”
“The language is not necessary Mr. Ryan,” he scolded, doing a pretty good imitation of my accent and the tone I used with him more often than not.
“That’s cute,” I said, shaking my head. “Do you practice that?”
“In the shower,” he confirmed.
I gripped the steering wheel tighter and forced myself not to let him bait me into thinking about him and showers in any way shape or form. This weekend was going to be a nightmare.
“You invited me to come home with you,” he said after a minute, turning in his seat to face me.
“I was forced to let you tag along,” I reminded him.
“You want me to meet your family,” he countered with a shrug. “Call it what you like, but you could have left me behind.”
I rolled my eyes and fished a cigarette out of the pack I kept in my console.
“You smoke?”
“You didn’t know?” I teased. “I thought you knew everything about me.”
“I thought I did, too,” he admitted. “You’ve been keeping secrets from me.”
“Declan, there is a world of secrets I keep from you.” I lit the cigarette and cracked the window. “So, what are you currently failing in so badly that the entire collegiate staff has required that I spend my vacation tutoring you?”
“Sexual education.”
I barked out a laugh, shaking my head and glancing over to see him grinning at me. Cheeky bastard.
“Pre-Calc,” he said finally.
“Shit.” I flicked my cigarette out the window. “I’m terrible at math.”
“Well that’s not surprising,” he said. “Those who can’t…preach, as they say.”
“You have to stop being adorable,” I warned him. “My mother is going to fall in love with you the minute you walk in the door. My brothers are going to grill you about all manner of topics, and my father is going to talk your ear off about hockey.”
“What does any of that have to do with me being adorable?” he asked.
“I can’t take a whole weekend of it,” I admitted under my breath.
This whole thing was a massive mistake, but we were here now, and all I could do was keep as much distance between Declan and I as possible.
“Tell me about your family,” Declan said after a while.
“What do you want to know?”
“Everything. What do they do, what are they like, any topics I should avoid at dinner? Everything.”
“Well, don’t bring up the IRA, Ohio State football or scotch and I think you’ll be alright.” I shrugged. “We’re just a family.”
“Why did you become a priest?” he asked out of nowhere.
“Excuse me?” I turned and stared at him for a second before tearing my gaze back to the road ahead of us.
“You’re obviously gay,” Declan declared.
“Obviously? Was it the feather boa under my clerical collar that gave me away?”
“I think it was the way you drool over me when you think I’m not looking,” he teased. “Okay, fine, not obviously. But I think you and I have moved beyond the fact that you are at least somewhat…enthralled by me.”
“Pick a different word,” I insisted.
“Enamored,” he offered.
“Enraged?” I shot back.
“Whatever.” I could almost hear him roll his eyes at me. “I’m just wondering what made you decide to give up your life and serve the church.”
“I’m an Irish Catholic,” I reminded him. “I was born with the reason.”
“I don’t know,” he said, his tone thoughtful. “You seem like the kind of guy who ran away from one thing into this thing.”
“You think I’m hiding?” I looked over at him again, but he was staring out of his window, facing away from me.
Maybe he had a better handle on me than I realized. Niall had actually just said that very thing to m
e when I’d talked to him about my situation with Declan. In fact, most of my brothers had been shocked by my decision to join the clergy.
I didn’t believe I was hiding. It was more…God gave me paths to follow, and this was the one I chose for myself. I’d never second guessed the decision…until now.
“I don’t know if you’re hiding,” Declan said finally. “But you don’t seem happy there. And not just because you’re…enchanted by me.”
“You’re a brat,” I growled. “I am not enchanted by anything. Well, maybe Krispy Kreme donuts.”
“Seriously?” Declan laughed.
“I give them up for Lent every year,” I admitted. “And the monsignor brings them to meetings every week, just to fuck with me.”
I pulled onto the exit ramp and headed through the familiar streets toward the house I’d grown up in. I was nervous about bringing Declan here. More so because I’d just spoken to Niall about him, and while I trusted my little brother not to say anything to my other family members, I knew Niall would bust my balls every chance he got.
“So,” Declan said, as he stared at my family’s house. It was a large, comfortable, Tudor style home set back from the road by a wide yard, that was currently buried under several inches of fallen leaves. “You’re like, from old Irish money?”
“There’s no such thing,” I assured him.
“Does your family talk like Boondock Saints, too?” he asked as we both got out of the car.
“Don’t bring that up either,” I warned, getting our bags out of the backseat and slinging them over my shoulder.
“Oh my God,” Declan said, obviously trying to suppress a laugh. “That would make you Willem Dafoe—”
“Shut up.” I stood next to him on the sidewalk and we looked at each other for a minute. I didn’t know what he was thinking, but I was saying a silent prayer that I would get through the next four days without ruining both of our lives forever.
“Thank you for bringing me with you,” he said finally. “I honestly do appreciate it.”
“Well, just don’t make me regret it,” I told him.
“I won’t,” he promised, nodding at me.
“Come on,” I said, knocking my shoulder against his and walking up to the porch.