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There’s something simmering under those brown eyes, something dark and wanting. It catches me off-guard. The happy-go-lucky camp director isn’t here anymore. In his place is someone filled with reckless layers and agonizing pain.
But then he looks away and smiles at the girl next to him, and I swear I didn’t just make what just happened up.Somethinghappened. Something passed between us like a current. Something hot and dangerous and consuming.
And I’ll be damned if I’m not going to find out what thatsomethingwas.
CHAPTER4
JARRED
I’m drenched in sweat.
I don’t know why I planned flag football as one of our team-bonding games and, at twice their age, I have no idea why I decided to play with the counselors.
I’m practically limping off the field, resisting the urge to rub at my sore knees as I take a seat on the bench. I grab my sports drink and chug it down in a few gulps, breathing heavily as I watch the counselors continue to play without me.
Against my better judgment, my eyes track Noah as he races across the field, football in hand, looking like he owns the place. At first glance, you wouldn’t think someone like him would be good at sports, but he’s kicking everyone’s butts.
There’s the stirring in my gut again. The clenching of my heart. The heating of my skin. Noah’s coated in a slick sheen of sweat, his frame gracefully avoiding anyone who tries to get his flag. He’s a thing of beauty, a perfect beacon of youth, and I need to tear my eyes away from him before I think of something I’ll regret.
This isn’t the first time I’ve thought of a man in…thatway. Growing up, I always appreciated the attractiveness of my friends, but I’ve kept it to myself. Those thoughts are sinful, immoral, andwrong, and I have never given into temptation. Just to think of it would be an affront to God.
But the way the light bounces off Noah’s lip ring makes me think of places I’d like to feel that ring.
I stand quickly, flushed and too hot as I march toward Kendall. She played with the first team and is acting as a cheerleader for both teams now. She might be one of the sweetest and purest people I’ve ever met.
“Hey, Kendall?”
She turns to me with that trademark wide smile. “Yes, Mr. Walker.”
“Jarred,” I correct her. “I have to step away for a second. Do you mind monitoring the game for me and rotating the teams when their time is up?”
She beams at me and nods rapidly, and I can only imagine she’s overjoyed at the idea of the extra responsibility. “One hundred percent! You can totally count on me!”
“Wonderful,” I say sincerely, giving her a quick nod before I start to walk away. “I’ll be back in a bit!”
I walk away from the field and fight against the urge to look back at Noah to see if he’s scored another point. My feet take the automatic route that’s ingrained in their memory. There’s only one place I need to be right now and one person I need to see.
As I enter the chapel, I make sure to do the sign of the cross before I step any further. Whenever I’m in here, I always puff out my chest a little. The majority of the money I had when I started Camp Trinity was put right into the construction of this building. It’s beautiful, large, with oak pews that stretch twenty rows. I was optimistic when I told the builders how big I wanted it, hoping that the camp would grow to the hundreds rather than the dozens we started with. My hope and faith were rewarded, and now it’s standing room only when we conduct mass.
I walk through the pews, making sure to touch each and every one of them as I head to the office in the back. It’s the middle of the day, so Father Matteo should be in his office setting up. The door is slightly ajar when I reach it, so I let myself in. As predicted, Father Matteo is unpacking his things and organizing his desk. He’s not here all year round but only comes during the summer months.
He doesn’t exactly look like your stereotypical priest. Father Matteo is young, in his thirties, I think. He has sleek black hair he keeps neatly done, and there’s no trace of any wrinkles or age lines around his face. When most people think of a priest, they think of old saggy men, but Father Matteo looks like he could be on the cover of a magazine.
I clear my throat to get his attention, and his brows dip when he sees me. “Jarred,” he says, waving at me as I take a step into his office. “I didn’t think I’d see you today. Didn’t the new counselors arrive this morning?”
“They did.” I gulp, looking nervously around the office as I bounce on my heels.
“You look…” He pauses for a moment, searching for the word. “…flushed. Is there something you need?”
I feel heat shoot up the back of my neck. I probably look like a sweaty mess. I stutter through my words. “I—um—I need to do confession.”
He cocks his head to the side, and I’m not sure what he’s looking for when he looks at me. It takes him a moment, but he nods. He gestures down at his civilian clothes. “I need to change, but why don’t you meet me in the confessional? I’ll be there shortly.”
I want to tell him to hurry up but that would be rude. Instead, I go to the confessional that sits just outside of his office. I take a deep breath as I enter the booth, and the stifling feeling of guilt hits me like a truck. Even when my sins aren’t grave, I always feel like I’m suffocating when I’m in one of these. It’s like God is right above me, judging me, and waiting for me to confess all my blasphemous sins. I’m thankful when I hear the door on the other side of the partition open only a few minutes later.
“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned,” I whisper, making another sign of the cross as I clasp my hands out in front of me. “I have committed a grave sin against God, and I seek forgiveness.”
“What’s the sin you think you’ve committed?” Father Matteo asks, his deep voice soothing.
