Page 11

Ten

Jensen

S tanding in the pulpit with the eyes of the congregation on me, I should really not be thinking about how good Theo Virgil’s lips felt against mine. But that’s exactly what I’m doing.

Through the prayers and the hymns and the blessings, he’s in the back of my mind.

Somehow, I pull it together and finish the service. Never mind the fact that I wrote the sermon late last night. This isn’t like me. I normally put pride in my work.

But Theo has this hold over me, and I don’t want it to stop.

As soon as we reluctantly parted ways Thursday night, I couldn’t sleep all night. I kept reliving that kiss. I meant what I said to him—he scares me. How good I feel with him. How much I want him even when he’s not around. How much I wanted to drag him into my hotel room and have my way with him.

We’ve been texting each other ever since. We mostly talk about our lives, childhood stories, likes and dislikes. We send each other selfies and have even video chatted a couple of times when we’re not too busy.

“Let us pray,” I say as we all bow our heads together. The moment I close my eyes, that familiar shame creeps in. It’s as if the moment I’m alone with God, there is nowhere to hide. No lies to protect me. I have to face my sins.

“We thank you, Lord, for your unending grace and mercy. May we leave this church filled with your peace, carrying your light into the world.”

I lead the congregation through the prayer, and when I’m asking for forgiveness for them, I’m really asking it for me.

“Amen,” I murmur, my voice echoing from the speakers.

“Amen,” they reply in unison.

As they all stand and greet each other, congregating near the doorways and aisles, I stay at the pulpit and stare down at my sermon. My phone is in my pocket, and I’ve felt Theo text multiple times throughout the service, or at least I assume it’s him. These days, it’s always him, and I’m not complaining.

He still doesn’t know I’m a pastor because I haven’t told him. Just one more thing to feel guilty about. But I don’t want that part of my life to mingle with this one. I don’t want Theo to have to grapple with the conflict that paralyzes me nearly every day when it comes to him and whatever this thing is between us.

For once, I just want to be me, and I want him to be him.

Finally leaving the pulpit, I walk down from the stage toward where the people are mingling. I do exactly what I do every weekend. This is my favorite part, really. Getting to talk to them. Getting to hear how my words—or rather, the word of God—helped them get through a challenging time or the dark internal thoughts that tend to creep in.

A woman I recognize takes my hand with tears in her eyes and tells me how good today’s sermon felt, and it means the world to me. That’s why I’m here. That’s my duty in this life—to bring hope and camaraderie to the people.

My phone buzzes again. It practically stings where it’s pressed against my thigh.

I should feel terrible for what I’m doing with Theo. For jeopardizing this position I’m in.

But I’m flawed and imperfect, and I can’t help myself as I touch the woman’s shoulder. “Please excuse me,” I say politely as I take my leave.

Walking away, I pull my phone out of my pocket and check the messages. It’s a photo of him in front of the fake Eiffel Tower in Vegas. He has on dark sunglasses and no hat. He’s always wearing a hat of some sort and I wish he’d leave it off more often. His hair is beautiful. Dark-brown curls on the top of his head. It highlights his blue eyes and the lighter scruff on his face.

Have a great show tonight!

I text with a smirk. Disappearing down the long hallway, I stare at his photo and my heart starts to pick up pace in my chest.

Closing myself in my office, I lock the door behind me as I take a seat behind the desk.

Thanks. Wish you were here.

Me too.

Two more days.

How long will you have in Denver after the show?

We don’t leave until Thursday.

Apparently, I’m scheduled to do some photo shoot there on Wednesday, so I’ll have all night after the show.

I shift in my seat at the idea of having all night with him. God, I want it. I want it so fucking bad.

What started as an indulgence has turned into an all-out addiction. I know it could end badly and likely will. But I’m beyond caring.

I’m no fool, and I’m not a child. The things they tried to drill into my head at Eternal Harmony didn’t stick quite as much as they wanted them to. I know there is no way to “pray the gay away.” I was “cured” of nothing. In fact, I’ve had plenty of sex with men since leaving their program.

But it doesn’t change the fact that they rewired things inside my brain I can’t fix. They buried themselves in my subconscious. Their lies and mantras play on repeat, whether or not I want them to. I can’t escape them, and I probably never will.

At this point, my sins are between me and God.

It’s about more than sins now at this point. It’s about my job, my life, my position in this community. I mean something to people, and I can’t lose that. Because if I lose that, then who am I?

As I type and delete and type and delete my next message, it’s like I’m being torn apart. There is a rational part of my brain that knows this isn’t a good idea. Don’t toy with the idea of having sex with Theo Virgil because that is a threat to my entire life. And certainly don’t fucking string him along like we have any real future together.

We’re both closeted professionals who can’t risk their own careers for a love affair.

But then there’s the other part of me. The man. The heart and soul and body that craves him so badly I can hardly sleep. I want to pull Theo Virgil into my life where I can protect him. I’d like to plant my feet at his door and be the one who keeps him safe at all costs.

I’ll get a hotel close to the venue.

I know the mere mention of a hotel is a point of tension. If I have another hotel room, will he enter it this time? Will he sleep by my side? Will he let me undress him and explore his body the way I so desperately want to?

“With God, change is possible.”

“Shut up,” I mumble to myself as I drop my phone on the desk and run my fingers through my hair.

I can practically hear Pastor Derek’s voice in my head.

“You don’t have to live this way, Jensen. This is not what God intended for you, but there is still hope.”

I shove the voices down and focus instead on the gorgeous picture of Theo. Suddenly, I find myself closing my eyes again. And then I do what I’ve done a thousand times already this week.

I pray.

In my mind, I reach for God. I want to feel the comfort only He can give. I want him to tell me I haven’t failed him. I need to feel his love.

My phone buzzes again, and I open my eyes to see Theo’s response.

I’ve got some time before the show.

Can we FaceTime?

My blood pressure spikes. Turning behind me, I stare at the large painting of Jesus on the wall. I certainly can’t let that be my backdrop if he calls. Turning the chair the opposite way, I show only the white plaster wall of the corner of my office.

Yes.

A moment later, the phone starts ringing. Quickly fixing my hair, I answer it. It takes a moment for Theo’s face to appear on the screen. And when it does, my jaw drops and all the blood in my body courses straight for my cock.

Theo is standing in nothing but a white towel wrapped around his waist. He winces when he sees my reaction.

“Too much?” he asks.

“Too much clothing?” I ask with a smirk. “I’d say so, but I happen to think you always have too much on.”

He smiles, and it’s so fucking cute it has me beaming.

“Wow, we’re really going for it today, aren’t we?” he asks.

“Well, you’re the one who answered in nothing but a towel.”

He starts to blush, and I love it. It’s true that Theo and I have kept our conversations pretty tame since Thursday. Those kisses and light rutting were about as hot and heavy as we’d been.

But I quite like that we aren’t rushing it. We’re taking our time with each other. I don’t want this fire to burn out.

“I just got out of the shower.”

“You look good,” I say in a low tone.

“You look good, too,” he replies. “Where are you?”

I glance around at the wall behind me. “In my office,” I say. “We had…a meeting today.”

“Cool,” he replies.

Part of me thinks that Theo doesn’t pry about my job because he doesn’t truly want to know. Either that, or he doesn’t care. He’s young. Twelve years younger than me. He’s less interested in careers and meetings than I am.

I keep telling myself that when we see each other in person, I’ll come clean. It’s a big deal, and I never felt the desire to tell him before because I didn’t see this going as far as it has already.

He leans back on his bed, and I can tell that it’s his room on the tour bus. It’s not huge, but the bed is at least a queen. It has a dark-brown comforter and white pillows. He reclines and holds the phone up so I can see his face and bare chest.

“You sure you can afford all these flights and hotels? I can help, you know.” He says it so innocently, as if he’s not bothered by talking about money, and he’s not afraid to discuss just how much he has now.

Reassuring him with a warm smile and soft nod, I reply, “Yes, I can handle it. My job pays well.”

“Good.” He doesn’t push the subject and I’m grateful for that.

It’s sweet of him to offer and be concerned. Aside from the money, these trips I’m making are easy for me. My team is well delegated, although I’m getting the sense they find my frequent trips odd. As long as the work is getting done and I don’t slack on my duties, it’s really none of their business.

“I wish I were there with you right now,” I say, which feels a little like crossing a line.

Theo’s smile turns into desire. “I wish you were too.”

“Imagine me lying right next to you. I’d like to hold you to my chest and let you relax there before your show.”

“That sounds amazing,” he murmurs softly. Then, with a contemplative look, he says, “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.” I swallow down a sense of unease as I wait for him to ask it. I think in the back of my mind, I know what he’s curious about.

“Have you been with a man before?”

My jaw clenches, and I force myself to swallow. Although Theo has spoken about his dating life and coming out to his family, I’ve skirted over the issue.

“Yes, I have,” I reply plainly, and I can tell that he’s waiting for more from me.

“Sorry to pry,” he says, burying his hands in his hair. “You’re just…such a mystery to me.”

“I can be an open book if you want. Ask me anything.” Reclining back in my chair, I smile at him as I wait.

“Are you gay or bi?”

“Gay,” I reply flatly, but keep my voice down in case there’s someone on the other side of the office door. “I’ve been with a couple of women. I just didn’t like it very much.” I can see his brow furrows delicately.

“Have you been in a serious relationship before?”

My jaw tightens. I told him I would be an open book, and I am, but he can’t help that some of these questions are difficult.

“No. I did date a woman for over a year in college, but it was…complicated.”

“It sounds complicated.”

“I haven’t seriously been with a man, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“Because of your job?” he asks, and I see the youthful innocence on his face. I’d like to kiss him so much right now.

Solemnly, I nod. “Yes.”

I watch the way he processes this information and how heavy it weighs on him. Right now, he’s realizing that I can never be serious with him.

“Is that what you want, Theo?” I ask. Why do I want him to say yes?

He takes a deep breath and scrubs his hand over his face. “It’s never what I wanted before.”

“And what about now?” I ask.

He stares into my eyes through the screen as he shrugs. “I don’t know.”

The corner of my lips tugs upward subtly. Then he continues.

“Obviously, my job won’t make that easy, either. I just know that I fucking like you, and not in the same way I’ve liked anyone before.”

This level of honesty and transparency is refreshing. It makes me feel like Theo knows he’s safe with me. I want him to always feel safe with me.

“I really fucking like you too.”

“Then I say we just take this day by day. See where it takes us.”

As he buries a hand behind his head, making his biceps bulge and my mouth water, I smile. “I like that plan.”

“So, on Tuesday…”

“On Tuesday, we’ll see where it takes us.”