Page 37 of Heart Sick Hate

“What’s with all the chaos today?” I ask, changing the subject before Rhett decides it’s a good idea to join Maren and me at the bar. My eyes move around him to men carrying oversized boxes through the back of the church.

He looks over his shoulder and waves one of them to the right when they start in the wrong direction. “Getting ready for the move.”

“I thought the new church wouldn’t be built for another six months.”

“Dad’s working that out with the contractor. We’re aiming for two.”

Rhett dips his thumbs in his pockets, not sayingDad’s throwing more money at this charade, but we both know that’s what it is. Rhett’s impatient and has been putting pressure on everyone around him. He says it's for the good of the church and the people who come here, but looking around, I’m not sure they care.

“Where’s your ring?” Rhett’s eyes drop to my bare ring finger, and I realize I’m absentmindedly rubbing the skin there.

“Home.” I clasp my hands behind my back, hoping he didn’t hear my voice shoot up an octave. “I forgot it today.”

“You never forget it.”

Now, of all times, Rhett, the worst boyfriend in the world, decides to be observant.

“Why does it matter? Aren’t you supposed to be replacing it anyway?” I divert the conversation.

His eyebrows shoot upward, and his eyes find mine. Realization and a hint of something else fills his gaze—fear? It’s not something I’ve ever seen on him.

“Right.” He swallows hard, his eyes trailing over my shoulder.

But when I turn to see what’s drawing his attention, I’m met with the view of a crowd of people filtering through the doors.

“I should get back to work.” He steps toward me and plants another staged kiss on the side of my temple. Only this time, it doesn’t make my skin itch because there’s hesitation coming from him. “Thanks for coming by and have fun with your friend.”

My smile is as gritted as his.

Pausing, we stand watching each other. His hand on my shoulder and his fingers squeezing it. A silent conversation I can’t read, but the crack in the earth between us has split open. And while, to anyone else, we’re standing here, we’re actually falling.

Guilt.

Regret.

With another gentle squeeze, Rhett walks away. He slips into the role of the man he’s spent the last eight years training to be. A man fitting to take my father’s place when he steps down. A man who will guide a congregation.

But as his eyes dart back at me, I see the cracks. Of what we are or what we’re becoming. This place might be holy, but we’re devils hiding in plain sight.

11

Echo

Maren slaps her handon the bar top and smiles so wide the bartender's eyes almost pop out of his head at the sight of her bright energy. “More shots.”

She’s a magnet for attention, and right now, she has half the men at the bar watching as she tips forward and offers the guy behind the bar her sweet smile, paired with a devious wink.

Her hair is down, curls brushing her shoulders. And her dark skin is glowing from the gold shimmer she’s lightly dusted on the apples of her cheeks and collarbones. Her white strapless top hugs her chest and her high-waisted jeans show off all her curves.

Maren is the embodiment of all things sexy and beautiful. While I sit here in an oversized Black Keys T-shirt, faded jean shorts, and combat boots.

It’s not that I don’t know how to dress to impress or get attention—like when I made the mistake of wearinga leather skintight bodysuit to my birthday party—but we’re at a bar at three in the afternoon on a Saturday, so I’d rather be comfortable.

My afternoon appointment had to reschedule, and Maren doesn’t work weekends, so here I am. Day drinking and forgetting Crew Kingsley and his brother aren’t waging an all-out war inside my head.

“Drink this.” Maren slides a shot in front of me and narrows her eyes. “We’re drinking until you no longer look like that.”

“Like what?”

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