by Dakota Rebel
“This is ridiculous,” he insisted, getting to his feet and standing in front of me, his arms crossed over his chest. “Who the hell cares who I fall in love with?”
“Is that a real question?” I laughed coldly. “How did you get to St. Catherine’s again? People care, Declan. They care a whole hell of a lot. And while they may not care that you’re gay, they’re sure as hell going to care who it’s with.”
“So, you just get to decide!” he yelled, shoving me in the chest. “You get to say, hey, I do like you. And I’ll consider walking away from priesthood. I’ll risk my family for you. But I can’t let you do the same?”
“Yes!” I met his gaze and set my jaw, forcing myself not to look away from the pain and anger in his eyes. “I do. Because I don’t like you, Declan. I love you. And I can’t let you ruin your life for me.”
“You love me?” he whispered.
“How could I not love you?” I reached up and held his cheek in my palm.
“So, you’ll just walk away from everything, including me?” he asked, covering my hand with his own. “And that’s it?”
A knock sounded on the door and I stormed over and opened it. Niall was standing there with a bemused smile on his face.
“What?” I snapped.
“Your study session is getting a little loud,” he said. “Mom’s worried.”
“Well, he sucks at math,” I said.
“Yeah.” Niall pressed his lips together.
“Yeah.” I blew out a sigh. “Sorry. We’ll keep it down.”
“Maybe you should go for a walk,” Niall suggested. “Murph needs to stretch his legs.”
“I don’t need a handler,” I growled.
“Bullshit,” Niall hissed. “Get out before you hurt him.”
I looked back at Declan to see that he was staring out the window, his shoulders sagging, and his face pressed to the glass.
Damn it.
I pushed past Niall and thundered down the stairs, walking out the front door and slamming it shut behind myself. Murphy was waiting for me on the sidewalk and I fell into step beside him, neither of us talking.
He handed me a pack of cigarettes and a lighter and I exhaled sharply.
“Thanks,” I said, pulling one out and lighting it. “How much did you guys hear?”
“Enough,” Murphy said.
“Is mom pissed?”
“Mom’s worried,” he corrected. “We all are.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not going to talk about it.”
“Didn’t expect you to.”
When the hell was I going to stop disappointing this family?
Chapter Ten
~Declan~
“Ma’am,” I said, stepping into the kitchen with Mrs. Ryan. “I wanted to apologize if Father Ryan and I were shouting earlier.”
Niall had run off after his brothers once he’d been sure I was okay. Which I was. Things between Callum and I were a mess, and it was really only a matter of time before we got into an argument. I just wished it hadn’t been in his family’s home.
“Declan sweetie,” she said, wiping her hands on her apron as she walked over to me. “I’ve raised five children in this house. I promise you, that was nothing.” She hugged me and it took every ounce of willpower I possessed not to break down in her arms.
“Can I help with dinner please?” I asked, needing something constructive to do.
“Of course.” She smiled softly at me then motioned to the stove. “Brown up that sausage for me?”
I walked over and stared down at what had to be five pounds of ground sausage in a pot. It did look like she was gearing up to feed a sports team.
We worked together for an hour, her directing me to different tasks, chattering on about her kids, while managing to avoid talking about Callum at all. She was an incredibly sweet woman, and I knew she was doing it on purpose to try to keep my mind off of whatever she’d heard.
“Have you called your own mother yet today, young man?” she asked after we’d put the last foil covered dish into the oven and sat together at the kitchen table.
“Yes ma’am,” I promised her.
“Is she sad you’re not with her today?”
“She understands,” I said. “Though I probably should actually study.”
“Where are you having trouble?” Mr. Ryan asked, walking in and sitting down next to his wife.
“Pre-Calc.” I shook my head. “Once they replace the numbers with letters I feel like that shouldn’t be math anymore.”
“Ronan can probably help you out with that,” Mr. Ryan said, pride sliding into his tone. “He owns a bar and has a real head for numbers. And letters.”
Mrs. Ryan looked at her watch and muttered a soft curse under her breath. “Of course.”
“Ma’am?” I looked at her, confused.
“They’re at Ronan’s.” She blew out a sigh. “I was wondering why my boys weren’t back yet. They’re probably over at the bar wallowing.”
“You should head over there, son,” Mr. Ryan said.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I argued.
“Callum is scared,” Mrs. Ryan said softly.
“So am I,” I admitted. “Ma’am, I’m sorry. I really don’t think we should talk about this.”
“Because we’re his parents?” Mr. Ryan asked. “Son, you’re not going to find many people who understand him like we do.”
“I’m sure, but…he’s a priest.” I dropped my gaze to the table, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. I could not talk to his fucking parents about being in love with their priest son. This was insane.
“Declan,” Mrs. Ryan said, pausing until I looked up to meet her eyes. “From the moment you transferred to St. Catherine’s, our son has been talking to us about you.”
I stared at her, unsure what she meant.
“Not that,” Mr. Ryan interjected, his hand patting the back of mine. “Just little things. Declan scored two goals last night. Declan failed another math test. Declan got in a fight at practice.”
“We’re friends,” I said lamely.
“Other than your brother Ben, I couldn’t name one other student at that school,” Mrs. Ryan said. “He won’t talk to us about what is going on in his head. And that’s fine. I don’t think I want to know most of it.”
I laughed and shook my head. These people were amazing. Five children to take care of and they were both sitting here with me, trying to help me figure out what to do with their son. Callum had an amazing family, I hoped he appreciated that.
“Cal has a decision to make,” Mr. Ryan said. “And no one can make it for him. Not even you. All we can do is to stand behind him, regardless of what he chooses to do.”
“I agree,” I said firmly. “And me pressuring him isn’t going to help that.”
“No.” Mrs. Ryan shook her head. “But stay in his face. There’s not a person in this house that can’t see how you feel about my son. He needs to understand what he’s losing by continuing to hide.”
“I really can’t talk about this with you,” I said, getting to my feet. “It’s difficult enough with him.”
“I didn’t mean to push,” she insisted. “I apologize.”
“No. I…thank you. Your support means a lot. Honestly.” I sniffed. “I wish he’d talk to me as openly as you do.”
“You’re family now, Mr. McNair. No matter what happens. You will always have a home here if you need one.” Mr. Ryan handed me a piece of paper with an address and directions on it. “So, go have a drink with Cal and your brothers.”
“And let them know that dinner is at four,” Mrs. Ryan added.
“Okay.” I looked at them both and smiled. “Thank you.”
****
“We’re closed,” a gruff voice called out when I opened the door to the bar. “Private party.”
“Nah!” Niall yelled happily when he saw me. “That’s the boy wonder. Come on in. Grab a drink and a stool young man. Now the party can start.”
“What are you doing here?” Callum asked, meeting me at the bar. Then he shook his head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”
“It’s okay,” I promised him. “Your parents sent me over. I can go if you want.”
“No,” he answered quickly. “No, I’m glad you’re here.”
We grabbed some bottles and walked over to where the rest of his family was seated, pretending not to be looking at us.
“You met Murph earlier,” Callum said, pointing at Murphy. “And Niall, obviously. This is Ronan.”
Ronan stood up and shook my hand, looking me up and down before nodding and dropping back into his seat.
“Nice to meet you,” I said, sitting down next to Callum. “I didn’t mean to interrupt family time. Your mom asked me to let you guys know that dinner is at four.”
“Does she need help?” Niall asked.
“Nah, we got it,” I assured him.
“One of us now, then?” Murphy said, clapping me on the back so hard it knocked me forward.
“You guys are massive,” I said, shaking my head.
“Yeah, poor Callum got shorted in every department,” Ronan said sadly.
“Not every department,” Cal countered.
Three sets of Ryan eyes snapped up to look at me. I smirked.
“He’s got big faith,” I offered.
“Yeah,” Callum agreed. “And a massive—”
“Heart,” I cut him off. “How much have you had to drink today, Father Ryan?”
“Oh, now I’m Father Ryan,” he said, rolling his eyes at me.
“You want to pick this up here?” I asked softly.
“No, I don’t.” Callum dropped his gaze to the bottle in his hand.
Silence fell over the table and I realized that going to the bar had been a bad idea after all. I was interrupting something.
I stood up, ready to excuse myself, when a hand the size of a bear paw grabbed my arm and tugged me back down.
“He’s been in a shit mood for the last fifteen years,” Murphy said, nodding toward Callum. “Don’t let him spoil your fun.”
“I should really get back,” I insisted. “Mrs. Ryan might need help.”
Ronan, Murphy and Niall all stood up and started picking up empty bottles. They cleared up their mess, saluted Callum and I then left without a word.
“And I was afraid it was going to be awkward,” I said.
“We weren’t talking about you,” Callum said.
“I didn’t assume you were,” I assured him. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.” Callum turned his chair, so he was facing me, then crossed a foot over his thigh, leaning back and taking a long pull from his beer.
“What pipes?”
“Come again?” He tilted his head and looked at me like I was crazy.
“What pipes are calling?”
“I literally have no idea what you’re talking about right now.”
“Danny Boy, the pipes are calling? What pipes?”
“Bagpipes,” he said, as if that should be obvious.
“I thought bagpipes were Scottish.”
“The Scots steal everything from us. That’s what you want to ask me? Danny Boy?” He laughed. “What the hell am I going to do with you, Declan?”
“Well, that’s the question of the hour, isn’t it? And also, not why I’m here.” I chuckled. “I don’t even know why I am here. Your mom told me to stay in your face.”
“She meddles.” Callum drained the rest of his beer and stood. “You want another?”
“No, and I don’t think you need another, either,” I said, getting to my feet.
“You know, seven years ago, I was getting in brawls in this very bar, back before Ronan bought it. And you…you were still getting your boo-boos kissed by your mommy.”
We were inches apart, face to face, as we’d been a lot lately.
“Well, maybe you could kiss my boo-boos now,” I offered. I ran my thumb over my still swollen lower lip. “I have one right here that could use some attention.”
“Are you the devil, Mr. McNair?” he whispered.
“I might be,” I said.
“Well, if you’re after my soul, you’re too late.” Callum licked his lips and stared down at me. “You already have it.”
“Cal?”
“Hm?”
“Are you drunk right now?”
“Very,” he assured me.
“Damn it.” I took a step back and blew out a sigh. “You’re impossible.”
I turned around and walked toward the door. There was no way in hell I was going to take a single step forward with him if he wasn’t in full control of himself. He’d sat and drank with his brothers for hours. If he were sober, he wouldn’t be ready to kiss me.
Which meant he wasn’t ready. I wouldn’t trap him. Yeah, he wanted me. I knew that. And he probably did actually love me. But if he couldn’t make a move sober, I wasn’t about to let him do it drunk.
I refused to be a mistake. When he was sure of the path he wanted to walk, I’d walk it with him or stay behind. Whatever he wanted. But he had to do it in his own time.
It had been a mistake to go to the bar. But I hadn’t let it get too far. And Friday morning I’d try to catch a bus back to school. Cal should be able to be comfortable in his own home. He wasn’t going to be able to do that with me there.
“Declan, wait.” Callum ran outside after me. He locked the bar and met me on the sidewalk. “Let me walk back with you.”
We fell into step beside each other, each of us seeming to be taking our time getting back. I may not want to jump his bones in his current condition, but I still wanted to be near him.
“Thank you,” he said, pulling my arm to stop me.
“Whatever for?” I asked sarcastically.
“Okay, fine. I’m drunk.” He threw his hands up in frustration. “You’re maddening. Declan. You are driving me insane. You sit in my confessional and you tell me unspeakably filthy scenarios you dream up about the two of us. You weren’t supposed to fall in love with me.”
“Tell me about it!” I snapped. “Are you under the impression that I like this?”
“Then why did you talk to me about it at all?”
“Because I did fall in love with you.” I scrubbed my hand over my face. “And I saw you. Okay? I saw the way you would look at me. I watched you look over the pews at mass and seek me out. Every time. I’m not trying to ruin you, Callum.”
“I don’t know what to do,” he said, his tone defeated.
“Yeah, actually, you do. You just don’t want to do it. And that’s fine. It’s your life.”
I stared down at the sidewalk, biting my lip to keep myself from saying something that I would regret later. I was already pushing it. But I couldn’t bring myself to straight out ask him to leave the priesthood. I just couldn’t. I’d done enough damage to him.
“Thank you,” he said again.
“For what?” I barked out a laugh and met his gaze again.
“For not letting me kiss you back there.”
“Yeah.” I shook my head and turned to start walking again, but he grabbed my arm, pulling me back.
“Because when I kiss you, I don’t want any doubts in your head or mine, about what we’re doing.” He stepped closer to me. “When I kiss you, I only want you thinking about the fact that I’m kissing you.”
“No promises,” I reminded him, refusing to give myself any further hope at this point. I wasn’t sure I could handle one more disappointment from this man.
He didn’t argue, and we turned and headed back toward the house. Dinner would be ready soon, and maybe some food would help sober up the jackass priest that was meandering down the street next to me.
Chapter Eleven
~Callum~
So, if I stayed super d
runk, I’d never have to make a decision about Declan. That seemed like a solid, fucking plan.
When we got back to the house, Dad roped Ronan into helping Declan with his math, so I snagged Murphy and Niall and we went out onto the deck and continued to drink.
“You boys are impossible,” Mom complained, stepping outside and waving away a cloud of my cigarette smoke that had blown into her face. “I’d like to talk to Callum, please.”
Niall and Murphy didn’t exactly run into the house, but they were sure as hell quick about getting out of the way.
“Cal, honey, you know you can talk to me about anything, right?” Mom said, sitting across from me at the table.
“There’s nothing to talk about,” I insisted.
“Right. So, you’re sitting here drunk as a skunk in the middle of the afternoon because everything is peachy keen?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I lied.
“He’s a nice boy,” she said softly.
“I know.” He was a nice boy. A nice boy with a nice future ahead of him. “I’m a nice boy, too.”
“You certainly are,” she agreed proudly.
“A nice priest.” I blew out a sigh and dropped my head into my hands.
“That’s a job,” Mom said. “People change jobs all the time.”
“It’s not just a job!” I slammed my hand on the table and stood, pacing around the deck. “It’s not. And I wish people would stop acting like it is. This is my life. I took a vow, Mom.”
“And then God gave you Declan.”
“God gave me an impossible decision,” I spat. “If this is a test…I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”
“For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also,” she said.
“Don’t you dare fucking quote Luke at me!”
“You watch your mouth young man.”
“Sorry ma’am,” I said, hanging my head. “Mom, he’s going to be a professional hockey player someday.”
“He is,” she agreed.
“I’ll be a disgraced priest, seven years older than him, not to mention a man. He can’t carry all of that.”
“I don’t think you get to decide what he carries,” she argued. “And I don’t think he’ll suddenly become a heterosexual if you decide you can’t be with him. So being a man is not an argument.”