Page 12 of My Favorite Sin

“My favorite person.”I was young. I didn’t know how to express such intense feelings to a girl, especially a girl who was about to become family and I shouldn’t have had feelings for at all. In hindsight, the words were my way of saying I love you.

“You’re my person too.”Finally, she accepted the roses and smiled at me, and I knew the words were just as meaningful leaving Ally’s mouth.

The words took on even more meaning the following year when I brought Ally to a party which ended in her having a panic attack because she felt so uncomfortable.

I remember the explanation for her anxiety once I finally managed to calm her down.“I’m not like you or any of the people here. I’m boring. I sit in my room and play the piano all day. I don’t party. I don’t even have friends outside of thefamily. But you thrive in this setting, and it’s easy to forget that there’s a whole other side of you I don’t know about. It makes me feel pathetic.”

Her feelings took me by surprise, that she didn’t realize how much I adored her.“Ally… you have no fucking clue, do you?”

“About what?”

“You’re my person, remember? You get the real me. You’re the only person who does.”I reached into my pocket and retrieved the deck of cards she’d bought me for my birthday. It had become a habit to carry them on me and mindlessly shuffle them whenever I had an issue on my mind. I’d think of Ally and it would calm me. Standing before her, I searched through the deck, stopping at the Queen of Hearts, and handed it to Ally for safe keeping.“This belongs to you. You’re my Queen of Hearts. Never forget it.”

Another love confession.

She told me she wouldn’t let go of the card.

That turned out to be a lie.

Along with the letter she wrote me when leaving for Paris, she slipped the Queen of Hearts into the envelope, returning it to me with the words written across it:You’ll always be my person.

“Ally…” My eyes shut tight, the pain of all those memories returning to me. “Don’t pull that bullshit on me right now.”

“It’s not bullshit. And…” Her gaze drops to the ground, her voice lowering. “I missed you too, okay. More than I want to admit. I also thought about you a lot. You know I did.”

I take her chin in my hand, tilting her head up so she can’t escape my eyes. She’s nervous but sincere. The touch of her smooth skin is electric on my palm. I notice thequickening pulse in her neck. The flush of her cheeks. Her lips open to suck in a quick breath.

She steps back from me, out of my grip. “You can’t touch me like that, Dan. I just… want things to go back to the way they were, when we were just friends.”

My hand flexes by my side, the skin on my palm tingling from the high of touching Ally’s face. “You know we were never just friends. And don’t tell me I’m your person if you don’t mean it.”

“I do mean it. Just… as friends.”

I rake a hand through my hair and groan. “Always so fucking ashamed of your feelings. I need to get out of here.”

CHAPTER FIVE

ALLY

“Last, but not least, I would like to welcome Alexandra Hastings to the Performing Arts faculty.” Headmistress Sinclair speaks into her microphone, addressing all staff in a rigid manner.

She’s on the elderly side of middle-aged and has a grey bob. I’ve been sitting in this auditorium for an hour, listening to her welcome all staff back for the new school year and our preparatory week before students return, and not once has she smiled, which does nothing for my nerves.

“Alexandra will be filling the position of Sacred Heart’s piano teacher.”

I stand from my chair in the auditorium—as every other new member of staff has during this meeting—and try not to turn red in the face as everyone looks at me. Mission failed. I can feel how hot my cheeks are. The knowledge that I’m turning red makes me even hotter. I smile, give an awkward wave, and quickly sit back down.

“We’re very lucky to have Alexandra. She’s just completed the DeLacroix Scholarship in Paris. A fun fact about Alexandra—” Her bland tone leads meto believe there is nothing fun about to leave her mouth, and I swear, I’ve never heard my full name spoken so many times in the space of a minute. “She’s also Killian Blackwood’s sister. So, she’ll fit in nicely here. Please do introduce yourself and make her feel at home.”

“Alexandra, you’re red,” Killian whispers from beside me, holding in a laugh.

I draw my hair forward to shield my cheeks. “You’re not helping the situation.”

The headmistress says a few final words, wishing us luck for the upcoming academic year, then the welcome meeting is over and staff begin to disperse from the auditorium.

Sacred Heart is the exact type of high school I was sent to. A private, Catholic, all-girls school, with many students who board, teachers who wear suits to work and drive expensive cars, and parents who pay upward of 100K for their daughter’s education. Coming from no money, my uncle Daxton paid for my education until Mom met Josh, of course.

Killian has been at Sacred Heart for one year, working as an athletics coach, and when he told me the school was looking for a private piano teacher, I knew it was a good opportunity. No education degree is needed for my particular role. Sacred Heart offered me a teaching position as soon as Killian mentioned the DeLacroix scholarship.

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