EIGHT
Tressa
“I thought I was the fuckup here. Finding you drunk in a bathtub is forcing me to reevaluate my decision-making.” Lucy’s cheery voice split my eardrums before she burst through the bathroom door, empty wine bottle in hand and frown on her face.
My eyes stung angrily. From the lavender-scented soap, I told myself.
“S-sorry. I shall replace all of it.” I tipped the last skims of wine past my lips and set the long-stemmed glass on the edge of the tub.
“Let me get that for ya.” Lucy snatched the glass before my elbow made contact with the delicate, church-provided stemware.
What would Father Bastien think if he could see me now, drunk and floating in a tub of bubbles, trying to scrub the memory of his fingertips against my skin from my mind?
“Mmm…” A loopy smile curved my cheeks as I sank a little deeper into the hot suds.
“Mmm…what?”
Crap.
Lucy was still hovering over my shoulder, waiting with that expectant look on her face.
“The water feels nice.”
Her eyes narrowed, running up and down my tired body before hovering at my lips. “I bet the water feels nice, but I’ve got a feeling the good Father feels nicer.”
“Lucy!” I squealed, sloshing a wave of soap over the porcelain.
“Relax, I don’t care what you and Father get up to behind closed doors.”
“No, Lucy, I swear nothing has happened.”
She raised an eyebrow and plopped down on the edge of the tub. “Well, then call me disappointed. Those long, lingering gazes are the stuff of romance novels.”
My mouth popped open before I thought better and shut it again.
“The thing is…” She paused, eyes averting. “I see that it’s hard for the two of you to…be discreet. The chemistry is written all over both of your faces. As soon as one of you enters a room with the other one, it’s…well…suffocating.”
“Really?” I asked just above a whisper.
The wine and humid air suddenly had my head swimming with the dizzy memory of us.
Everything we’d done.
Who’d seen what.
“I trust you when you say you haven’t done anything.” She grinned wickedly. “Mostly because I trust his piety over your good sense.”
I scoffed, hands splashing in the sudsy bubbles and soaking the leg of her denim jeans.
“Don’t pretend.” She splashed me back. “Just be careful, huh?”
I swallowed the boulder in my throat, nodding as stubborn tears pricked my eyelids.
“I hate this.”
Lucy’s frown softened, her fingers caressing the rim of my empty wineglass. “I know you’re older than me, but just trust me when I say sometimes you have to do what’s best for yourself. Sometimes it’s best to find a wayoutof love.”
Fall out of love with Bastien?
