Page 83 of Crossed

Ridiculous, Amaya.It’s daytime. He’s most likely not even there.

To be honest, I have no clue what a priest does beyond Sunday services and confession throughout the week.

A burst of wind whips across my face and I shiver, moving up the steps and into the narthex, the heat wrapping around me like a blanket when I get inside. Immediately I start to wander, memories of when I used to come here every week playing like a movie in my head. I walk down the hallways where the offices sit, my heart skipping as I pretend I’mnotlooking in the windows to seek out a man I know better than to find.

The beige walls and muted carpet of the back halls are so different from the replicated Gothic architecture out front, making it feel like when I’m here, I’m straddling two different worlds, one that transports me into beautiful French history and the other that’s plain and an American construct, built quickly just to have it done.

When I hit the stairs leading to the basement, I continue my exploration, assuming it’s okay to do since there are no signs saying otherwise.

The basement hallway is stuffy, the air a little moist and the smell a little stale. It’s lined with doors, some open and some not, filled with miniature tables and chairs and removable signs on the walls that specify what age range which room is for. I glance into the one closest to me, but there’s no one there.

“Peeping in windows, Miss Paquette?”

My heart jumps into my throat and I spin around, pressing my back to the door as I come face- to- face with Cade.

Shit.

I narrow my eyes. “Nah, that’s your job.”

My pussy clenches at the memory and my cheeks flush.

Friends, Amaya.

He smiles, those annoying dimples showing themselves, and he looks up and down the hallway before stepping in close. And now he’s here.Right fucking herein my space, making my stomach rise and drop like a roller coaster.

“Thinking of me?”

I swallow, my hands pressing tightly against the wall behind me.

He has me in this position a lot.

“No,” I whisper.

His lips are so close to mine that if I breathe too heavy, they’ll meet. “Prove it.”

There’s tension growing between us, slipping into the middle

of my chest and latching on, tugging until it hurts. Knowing someone could walk around the corner and see us should make me wary, but instead, it makes fissions of electricity dance up my spine.

My body leans into his. “What if I was?”

His eyes flare, but he doesn’t let us touch.

“Tempting me again, mon trésor?”

I shake my head, biting the corner of my lip because being surrounded by him is overwhelming. “We said we’d be friends.”

“We are,” he groans. “Best friends, even.”

And now his lips do ghost across mine, so slight I could have imagined the touch, but it sets my entire body on fire anyway.

I’m two seconds from giving in, because I feel like I might die if I don’t, when a door at the end of the hall swings open and slams closed, light footsteps following the jarring noise.

We jump apart like we’ve been electrocuted, and I run my fingers through my hair, hoping like hell that I don’t look too out of sorts.

My panic grows when Florence Gammond walks around the corner, her eyes filled with suspicion as she sees the two of us together.

Chapter32