Page 15 of Two Is Better Than One

"What? What does that even mean?"

"Love," I said. "Love is the difference. You're a sincere guy. You can be used to love other people the way you don't feel loved. The Bible says that if you don't have love, you could speak with the most beautiful words in the most beautiful languages, and it would all sound like a clanging cymbal to people. That's what churches sound like to you, because the ones you've been to showed you no love. But if you were there, you could be the one to love on others like you. It's that whole thing about being the change you want to see in the world, except it's be the change you want to see in the church."

"I don't even know if I want to be that person," he said honestly. "Do you? Would you show me love if I sat next to you in a service looking cracked out and dirty?"

I sighed as I truly thought about that. "I don't know. I'd like to say I would, but no, I probably wouldn't, honestly. If you looked cracked out and you came to sit next to me at church, I don't know what'd I feel. If I turned my back on you or ignored you, it would be for my own fears."

"It doesn't matter," he said.

"It does matter," I said. "I'm sorry that people have hurt your feelings."

"It's fine. Some churches are strict enough that I could go in looking clean like this and they would still give me a hard time, simply about my long hair."

"I know. I'm sorry. I wish that wasn't true. Humans can ruin anything."

"Don't let me get you on the jaded train," he said, gesturing to the front of the church as if that would help me focus.

"I'm not that easy to influence," I said. "I was hoping to influence you. I hope you know that the God this church represents wants people to come to Him just like they are. Even if you're cracked out or pretending to be cracked out. Even if you're stinky. The God of this church says come, even if the people of the church sometimes don't. People fail where God doesn't."

Casey was quiet for a few long seconds. "You're probably right. I need to let you sit here and pray or whatever you're doing. I should stop interrupting you. I'll sit in the back."

"You're not interrupting me," I said. I rested my hand on his arm, but then I quickly took it off because I realized I felt something from it. "Honestly, I'm not here to pray. I pray all the time at home. I have to do that to be able to do what I do—traveling and everything. I'm saying that so you know you don't need to move. I come here for the beauty. I love the peacefulness of it."

"It is peaceful," Casey said, looking up.

I stared at the side of his face as he took in the chapel. He was the most handsome man I had ever seen. He had rounded dark features that made his hazel eyes glow. His face was haunting, and I was only looking at the side of it. I could not kiss him in a church. I couldn't kiss him at all. I had a wig on, for goodness sake.

I looked away, and the two of us sat there for a few minutes, saying nothing. I had gotten to know Casey during the last week, and I was extremely intrigued. He was open with me about a lot of things, I knew a great deal about his likes and dislikes. We had shared a lot with each other. But he was definitely mysterious. There was a layer of mystery about him, a heavy-duty layer, and I felt an urgent need to know more, to find out more about him. I wanted to throw myself into his arms and beg him to tell me more—everything there was to know about him, from the very beginning.

"It's interesting that you've seen life from that different perspective. I wish I knew more about you," I said, casually, trying to play it cool.

Chapter 7

Summer Stockton

(still posing as Allie)

"I've told you a lot already," Casey said. "And I've told your sister even more."

He was talking about me, Summer, and I had to stifle a smile. I didn't know his exact job, but he was a government employee and he was a machine of a man—an absolute beast, physically.

"Tell me something you haven't told either of us," I said. "Something about your job."

"I don’t have to work. I work because I love it. My dad saw me as a young version of himself, and he taught me the things he did. He got me into playing the stock market when I was still a teenager. I'm a gambler by nature, and I was hungry for money, so I figured it out pretty quickly. I trade a lot now. We both do—my dad and me. He and I both work in law enforcement also, but it's because we choose to. So, we work together at a normal job, but most of our money is in stocks—high-risk, high-reward stocks."

"Are you rich?"

"Yes, I am."

"How rich?"

He looked at me. "Probably richer than you and your sister."

"Really?" I said, making a face. I was actually surprised by that "What are you doing here? Why are you doing this?"

He turned to stare at me and he gave me a shrug. "Because I want to. I don't mind working. I've been having to take off work with my arm, and I've never been the kind of guy to sit around. Lila called me, and I thought it might be fun to be a security guard for a famous girl."

"As of yesterday, no more sling," I said.

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