Page 32 of On Your Knees

I break the kiss, pushing on his chest for him to step back. “I’m so sorry,” I whisper.

His eyes connect with mine, and there’s something hidden deep within. Like a secret he doesn’t want me to know. “No, I’m sorry, Eva. You don’t deserve this.” He brushes a hand through his hair and leaves the room in a hurry, and I’m left standing here, wondering how I’ll ever forget that kiss.

It takes a few seconds for my breathing to return to normal, and for my heartbeat to steady, but once it does I leave the room, heading down to the lockers to gather my things to head home for the evening. My mind a complete mess.

As I sit in my kitchen the next morning, my mind replays the kiss Father Carmichael and I shared. It wasn't just a kiss; it was a moment charged with emotions I hadn't felt in years. His lips were warm and soft. The way he gently cupped my face, his fingers trembling slightly, conveyed a mixture of hesitation and desire. Should I call him Benedict? I have to. The name makes him seem more human, more like the man who held me with such tenderness, rather than the priest bound by vows. Calling him Benedict makes me feel less guilty, as if by doing so, I can momentarily forget the sacred commitments we both shattered in that fleeting yet profound embrace.

I can’t get his blue eyes out of my mind. The way his hands felt on my body.

I’m going to hell.

I think about my day ahead, how I’ll have to work at the club tonight but not in the Delgado’s room. Not with Benedict.

I’ve got just a regular serving shift, yet my nerves are completely shot. Will I even be able to concentrate on work with the memories of what happened in that room between Benedict and me?

I’m guessing I won’t because I’m barely able to think about anything right now. I glance at my phone, wishing I could call him and ask him what that kiss meant.

But I won’t.

I should know that kiss meant nothing and he’s a priest, so I’m sure he’s feeling guilty over it. He probably doesn’t ever want to see me again.

I don’t blame him. I should have pushed him away. I should have known better.

What is wrong with me?

I move through my house like a zombie, cleaning a few of Nate's things as I think about work this evening. A small part of me wishes Benedict would be there.

Even though he has no reason to be. I’m sure this one kiss meant more for me than him. Any man, priest or not, would fail to succumb to the pressures of kissing a woman in his situation. He sits there most nights, watching couples fuck. Of course he’s going to get turned on. Hell, I’m turned on just by thinking about it.

Him watching others. Jerking his dick in his fist.

Oh my god.

I can’t believe I just thought that.

I’m definitely going to hell.

My phone rings, and I glance down to see who it is. I roll my eyes when I see it’s Christopher.

“Hello,” I say, my tone already edged with annoyance.

“Need a favor,” Christopher responds, his voice matching my irritation.

“What?” I ask curtly, not in the mood for small talk.

“Can you take Nate tonight? I’ve got an important client in town, and Jessica’s busy.”

I clench my teeth, resisting the urge to berate Christopher. I should have custody of Nate, given how often these so-called important meetings pop up. Countless nights I lay awake while we were married, waiting for him to come home from one of thesemeetings. More often than not, they were excuses for him to be with other women. He’d stumble in, piss drunk, reeking of cheap perfume.

But I can’t go there now. Christopher holds all the cards, and I can’t risk antagonizing him.

I think about work and how I’ll need to call out, feeling a pang of guilt about letting the club down. Adele recently promoted me to Greedy Girl, per Devereaux Huxley’s request, a significant step up, and I don’t want to betray her trust. But Nate comes first.

“Sure,” I say, not needing to think twice. “I can grab him right now?”

“Yeah, the sooner the better,” Christopher says, hanging up abruptly without a word of thanks.

I swallow my frustration and quickly get ready, hurrying out the door to pick up my son. I’m excited to see Nate, and luckily for me, Adele is understanding when I call out.

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