“I didn’t say anything wrong,” he whispered.
“Speaking the right thing with the wrong intent is the same as being wrong,” his dad said stiffly.
“I didn’t say it with the wrong intent.”
“You’re using passive-aggressive speech to condemn your mother and me—our church. We don’t appreciate it.”
“I wasn’t doing that,” Patrick objected. “I was speaking the truth. If… If you feel convicted, that’s not my fault.”
“I never said I feltconvicted,”his dad snapped. “But I’m not stupid, either. I know what you’re doing. But I’m not going to apologize for defending the sanctity of God’s word. You can twist it into knots until it says what you want it to say—but it doesn’t change what it truly says, only in your mind. And that won’t help you come judgment day.”
Patrick sighed. “Whatever you say, Dad,” he mumbled and left the table, taking his plate to the sink.
“I’m not trying to be harsh,” Alan said. “But you havegotto face reality sooner or later, son. We love you, and because we love you, we worry about you.”
“I’m fine, Dad,” Patrick whispered as he washed the plate. “God made me this way. I know you can’t accept that, but I have.” He turned around and met his dad’s stare. “Ilikeme. I don’t want to change. I’m sorry you don’t like me, too, but this is who I’m going to be for the rest of my life. I’ve already committed myself to never having sex with another man, to beingalonemyentirelife. Isn’t that enough for you?” He dried his hands. “I’m going to bed.”
The tears came the second he was in his room. Patrick swiped them away—why was he so emotional today? That was hardly the first time he’d had that conversation with his dad. He was used to it. So, why did it sting tonight?
He insisted it had nothing to do with Derek—why would it? Yet, that’s where his thoughts kept running. He wished he’d gotten Derek’s number as well. Then he could call and confirm the date was off. Be done with it so he didn’t have to think about it anymore.
But he didn’t have the number. He didn’t even know Derek’s last name—so, no looking him up in the online white pages. All he could do was sit and wait.
He lay down and turned the TV on, then tucked his arms beneath his head and closed his eyes. The sounds coming from the television were muffled in his ears as his mind wandered elsewhere… leading him back to the Pride event… back to Derek and his captivating eyes, the way they looked at Patrick, drank him in, exposed secret passions and desires that Patrick had never seen in the eyes of any man staring back at him.
Patrick had built a safe world around him, surrounding himself with like-minded people. He didn’t often step out of his comfort zone alone. And he hadn’t realized he was doing just that when he’d gone to buy a soda today. Just a quick walk to the vendor and back. Nothingdaringorriskyabout that. It shouldn’t have been, anyway.
His “safe” world protected him—spiritually. Meeting Derek on what should’ve been a casual, non-threatening stroll had ripped him out of his “cocoon” and subjected him to temptations he wasn’t prepared for. Spending so much time in the safe haven of his friends and church, he hadn’t learned how powerful temptation could truly be—or howweakhe was against it.
Derek was a shocking awakening for Patrick. Maybe them meeting had been necessary—to make Patrick aware of such temptations and to safeguard against them in the future. He’d thought it was the “enemy” trying to trip him up, and maybe it was—but God had turned it into a useful lesson.
This was a learning exercise. Thedatewas never supposed to happen.
He sighed and smiled. He could relax and take comfort in knowing that God was still in control and everything worked out for the best.
Patrick savored the sense of calm—for about five minutes when thoughts of Derek burrowed back in and took over his mind. He tried to reclaim the peace and calm of knowing this was a lesson and nothing more but found himself drowning in the memory of Derek’s eyes, the sound of his slightly deep voice.
The true fear settled in when his body responded to those memories. Every word out of Derek’s mouth danced across his nerve endings, shooting tingling sensations throughout his body. He couldn’t get away from thefeelof Derek’s hand, the strength in his fingers as they closed around Patrick’s hand, the warmth of his palm.
The tingles turned to sparking embers, warming Patrick’s insides.
An ache webbed through his loins and he realized he was developing anerection.
Stop! Stop thinking about him!
Patrick’s eyes popped open and he sat forward, his breathing erratic. “Just don’t think about him.” His voice shook, his words trembling out with a thick rasp. He tentatively looked at his crotch. Stillhard.
Crawling off the bed, Patrick paced around his room. He turned on some music—a Christian rock band—and sang along, filling his mind and spirit withGod.
When he finally climbed into bed for the night—following an extensive bedside prayer—he read from the Bible until he began to nod off, then turned out the light, and fell asleep.
And dreamed aboutknowingDerek in the “biblical” sense.
