"And now you're making excuses for him," I muttered as I clumsily pulled my clothes off. Now that I wasn't sitting, I became very aware that I was still tipsy.
I snorted when I wobbled into the wall and splayed there.
"He does give good hugs," I sighed, remembering the feel of his arms around me.
When memories had crowded me in the supermarket, he'd been there in an instant—because hefeltmy panic—and his hug had made everything feel okay for a little while—because he was my mate. Because he was safe.
If that was all he was to me—a safe place to land—I could have stayed mad at him. But my memories of laughing over the rusted car, and the way his eyes sparkled when I teased him, andhow his smile grew when he mademelaugh … they were crystal-clear, and taunting.
"It's been one day," I growled at myself and climbed into the shower, very carefully placing my feet and expecting to slip again. "You can't miss him already."
I stood there—dry.
Huh? Where was the water?
Oh, right, I had to turn it on first.
I reached for the dial—and screamed when cold water poured over me, goosebumps blasting across my body.
"I'm too drunk for this," I cried, shivering when the water began to warm. "And too drunk for Priest-related decisions."
I'd see him tomorrow morning at Sunday service. I'd figure out everything then.
I just had to successfully wash the paint off myself, dress for bed, and then remember to set an early alarm.
No problem. Right?
20
Priest
Icouldn't stop fidgeting. For the third time, I shuffled my notes and adjusted the bible on the lectern, my eyes drifting past the dozen people sitting in the pews to the door, waiting for it to open.
Luna said she'd come, but that was before she found out we were mates and that I'd kept it from her.
I gave her another minute, long enough that people started checking the time on their phones and watches.
She wasn't coming.
I opened my mouth to greet everyone and begin today’s sermon, but the door’s sharp creak made my voice choke in my throat. Everyone turned to see who'd entered, and my heart skipped—legitimately skipped—when Luna ducked her head, her braids falling around the shoulders of her red coat, and slipped into a pew at the back.
In the front row, Justice waggled his eyebrows at me; I pointedly ignored him and began my service. I shouldn't have felt so optimistic after the betrayed way Luna had looked at me the last time she entered this chapel. But I couldn't stop the hope spreading through me, adding a light, bubbly optimism to the scripture I recited.
I managed to look everywhere but directly at Luna, though she stood out clearly in the corner of my vision with her long black braids and bright red coat.
Every part of me was aware of her, and even across the span of the chapel I could swear her bitter orange scent coated my tongue with a hint of tart sweetness.
Anticipation and nerves fizzed through me as I reached the end of service, and moved down the aisle to speak to everyone. I ignored Justice's not-so-subtle hints. Word of Luna being my mate had spread fast; my brothers were bigger gossips than fishwives.
I planned to ask Luna to stay behind so we could talk, but I didn't have to. The second my brothers and their families filed out, Luna made a beeline for me, her fingers twisted together in front of her, and asked, "Can we talk?"
"Always," I replied, and then realised that was probably over the top. "Ah, I can … make us a cup of tea? In my flat upstairs?"
Why was I asking instead of offering? My voice kept going up at the end, and I couldn't stop it. I wanted to drop my face into my hands.
"Okay," she agreed, and I was relieved to see she wasn't glaring. But she looked as nervous and unsure as I felt. "Tea sounds good. I woke up so late, I didn't have time for anything before church."
I stiffened like a bolt of electricity had struck me. "You haven't eaten?" I asked. My instincts demanded I rectify thatimmediately.