Shay stared at him carefully, his thick black glasses a little crooked on his nose. His black hair was swiped out his face, and his lips were thick and juicy. Rourke had once thought he’d be amazing at giving blowjobs, he certainly owned the mouth for it. If Rourke believed the words of a few of the guys when they were teenagers, Shay had a mouth of God. “Very well. So you spent some time with a paid professional.”
“He’s a paid professional, but I didn’t pay. I run the company that hires him out.”
Shay’s eyes widened behind his glasses. “Rourke, please tell me you’re kidding.”
“I made my way up in the Killough Company.”
“Why run a whorehouse, though?” He kept his voice low.
Rourke shrugged. “It’s safer than the other things Sloan got me to do to prove my loyalty, and I get paid better too.”
“You know I love Sloan like a big brother, but surely he can give you something else to do.” Shay’s frown lines deepened. “You’re in a home full of professional sinners. It’s bad enough that you are a deviant with your homosexual behaviors without adding whores in.”
“Don’t pretend you didn’t like homosexual behaviors when you were getting your ass eaten out by Eoin O’Connor behind your mother’s house.” Rourke raised his eyebrows.
Shay’s cheeks flushed and he sat back on his seat, clearing his throat. “That’s before I did my priesthood. I’ve repented for that.”
Rourke bit his lip to stop himself from laughing. “Don’t pretend you don’t dream about having a cock in your ass, Shay.”
“You should call me Father, and no, I haven’t dreamed of any such sins.” The fact that he wouldn’t look at Rourke told him otherwise. “You’re here to confess your own sins.”
“I came here hoping to talk to you,” Rourke said honestly. “I miss my best friend.” His words were met with silence, so he continued, “Mom’s cooking her famous Southern fried chicken for Friday’s dinner. Come with me.”
“I shouldn’t,” Shay whispered and then he sighed. “But you know I can’t resist your mom’s chicken.”
Rourke reached through the window and patted his shoulder. “She comes to mass here every Sunday.”
“I see her. She looks good, happy.”
Rourke nodded. “Safe. She’s safe and so is Orla. That’s all that matters.”
“I know.” Shay smiled at him. “Tell me about this sinner that got on his knees, then. You wouldn’t come here to confess your sins over any man. I haven’t seen you in seven months, and you were more than happy to sin away. Why is this one different?”
Rourke rubbed his forehead. How could he even begin to describe Forrest? Smarter than was strictly good for him, sweet, kind, humble. A wicked mouth, too. “I don’t know. He’s… not what you imagine a whore to be.”
“He enjoys what he does?” At least Shay didn’t saysinningagain. One thing Rourke learned about priests over the years is that they loved throwing that word around.
“Yes, but I think he’s after more.”
“In what way?” Shay asked.
Rourke shook his head. “My guess is that he’s after what everyone wants. Someone to love. He grew up in a foster home, never knew his birth parents. His foster parents didn’t care about him.”
“Maybe you should introduce him to God.”
Rourke laughed, resting against the back of the confessional box. “Forrest isn’t the type of person who’d worship God, Father.”
“Everyone is a worshipper, Rourke. You should bring him to mass. I’d love to meet him.” Shay’s gaze softened. “Anyone who’s important to you, is important to me and God.”
Rourke snorted. The old Shay would have outright laughed if Rourke told him he’d be saying these things at twenty-eight because at twenty, Shay enjoyed sex, alcohol, and partying. He’d fucked his way through all their friends, except Rourke. He’d wanted to keep their friendship the same as it always was. Then Shay’s mother demanded that he become a priest, and while he’d fought it at first, he’d finally given in. She’d always told him he couldn’t see Rourke anymore because he was a bad influence. As soon as Shay’s priesthood and work at the church started, their friendship dwindled. Rourke wasn’t lying when he said he missed Shay.
“Maybe I will bring him one day.” Rourke glanced at the window, at Shay’s eager expression. “I want to introduce him to what religion really does to a person, and how it makes someone abandon their friends.” Shay’s face fell. Rourke didn’t give him time to argue. “Don’t worry about Friday. Now that I think about it, Mom’s table is full. I’m taking Forrest there.”
“Rourke—”
Rourke slammed open the door of the confessional box and stormed out of the church, ignoring the glares the other worshippers gave him. He knew Shay couldn’t follow him because someone else would be waiting for their turn, but that didn’t stop him from slipping his coat on and power walking out into the street. It snowed last night, so the sidewalk’s icy layer nearly made him slip. He apologized to a lady he nearly knocked into and kept his pace until he found himself far enough away that he knew Shay wouldn’t be able to catch up to him, even if he did go after Rourke.
He paused, glanced behind himself, and sighed, leaning up against an iron fence he stood beside. Checking his phone, he sent Terrance a message to let him know he was on his way back. He’d told him he was only going out for fresh air.
