“OMG, father. Don’t tell me despite you being a priest and all that, you don’t refer to your vehicles asshe? It’s the same as calling a yachtshe. Masculinizing either one is clearly considered a sin.”
Jude’s burst of laughter echoed in the nave. He clamped his hand over his mouth and chuckled for another minute. “Priceless, Ethan. But I have to shamefully admit, my boring Honda Civic is probably pansexual. Gender makes no difference.”
I felt my eyes darken and my nervous energy travel south as thoughts of the masturbation session I had were back in full force. “What are you, Jude?” I asked the question, somehow knowing that Jude would understand exactly what I was asking.
Jude waited so long, I assumed he wasn’t going to reply. I knew that I’d stepped over the line of social etiquette or something. But if Jude had said straight, then I’d have an easier time getting Jude—the priest— out of my system.
“I’m gay.”
“Fuck,” I breathed, having meant to keep the reaction to myself.
After a long beat staring at each other, Jude asked, “And you?”
I felt like I’d swallowed my tongue, my throat was so dry. “Same,” I said hoarsely. “I’m gay.” A maelstrom of emotions swam in my head… and in my heart. I suddenly got up to leave and was halfway out the door when I turned back to Jude, “I probably won’t be back again.”
Jude blinked back what I thought might’ve been tears.
“But thank you, Jude.”
“For what?” he asked, eyes glistening.
“For being kind, even after I confessed my sin. That meant a lot.” With that, I gave a nod and then left the confessional and the church.
Once inside my truck, I smacked the steering wheel. Then I started the engine and took off before Jude headed back to the rectory and saw me. I hoped I hadn’t been too rude but for fuck’s sake, I really couldn’t keep seeing the priest. I’d also stop parking where I might run into him again. I groaned. Jude had been a pleasant surprise. And now, I’d have to lose the connection with the man. Because he wasn’t just a man. He was a man of the cloth. And I couldn’t keep pushing a friendship without undressing him in my fucked-up imagination every time I jacked off.
On instinct, I had the virtual assistant send a text to Andrew, my therapist. I usually saw him on Thursdays after work and before my session with Hawk. But I didn’t think I could wait that long without losing a battle to flogging. Thus, even as I winced sending a text on a weekend, I also knew that Andrew would want to help if I felt out of control.
Me: Urgent. Do you have any free time before Thursday?
Andrew: Meet tomorrow?
Me: It’s Saturday. Isn’t that a day off?
Andrew: No, I have patients and can fit you in if it’s genuinely urgent
Me: It is
Andrew: My office at noon
Me: TY
I showed up promptly at Andrew’s office, which was next door to Noto’s Patisserie, where Luca worked. Thankfully, the bakery was busy and I wouldn’t risk seeing him.
“What’s going on, Ethan?” Andrew asked. “You seem to have more than one thing troubling you.”
I huffed out a loud sigh and dragged my hand over my buzzed head. I held up my hand and counted on my fingers. “I fell for someone who is a priest.” I wriggled my index finger. “I thought it was okay until he told me yesterday, he’s gay. Third…” I pointed to my third finger. “When I told him I wouldn’t see him anymore, his eyes watered with tears. And fourth is a real shitshow. My best friend, Gabby, begged me to be the sperm donor for her and her wife. Otherwise, her wife’s going to leave her.” I wiggled my pinky. “I flogged myself.”
The ever-steady, unflustered Andrew registered surprise and said, “Wow, that is a lot.” But then he shifted in his seat, crossed his legs, and picked up a notepad, which he never used. However, I understood there was a lot to work through. “Before I ask you which one you want to start with, I have to know on a scale of one to ten, how close are you to flogging yourself, with ten being the most imminent?”
“Five,” I said honestly. “I think if you can help me work through my feelings for Jude, that’s the priest, then we can tackle Gabby.”
“Good plan,” Andrew said. “However, I’m curious as to why this is the first I’m hearing about Jude. When did you first meet him?”
“I first saw him three weeks ago,” I said, very aware of every minute since then that I’d seen Jude. “I’d parked by the church but had time before my session with Hawk. Curiosity had me going inside. Father Jude was at the front by the altar railing and I noticed him immediately. He was beautiful. I couldn’t look away, and when he spotted me, he came down the aisle. When he reached where I was sitting, he paused and our gazes locked. Neither of us spoke. It was freaking strange, Andrew. I’d never had someone affect me that way.”
“When did you see him next, Ethan?”
I let out a small self-deprecating laugh. “An hour later.”
