Page 45 of Fabulous Filthy Friend

He knows he will be touching the vehicle of my sin.

My skin heats the longer he doesn’t take it. Bile rises up my throat. The world spins around me slightly. I sway on my unsteady feet.

Mom glances over her shoulder back at me.

Crap.

Someone is going to notice.

Slowly, Father LaFayette reaches out and clasps my hand. His grip tightens, and he shakes. “Flynn, always nice to see one of our younger members of the congregation. I do hope you’ve been behaving yourself.”

I cringe internally but try not to react externally to his statement.

He knows. There’s no question about it at this point. It was a not-so-subtle question about whether I’ve been continuing with the site since confession.

I squeeze his hand back and nod. “As much as I can, Father.”

He frowns slightly, but I’m saved from any further awkwardness by the approach of the Jacobson family and their three kids from behind.

Thank you, God!

I release Father Lafayette’s hand and book it down the steps toward Mom without a look back.

Holy awkward.

No way I can deal with this every week, knowing what he knows. I may have to convince Mom to switch to a different parish.

* * *

RACHEL

Harsh, bright light streams in from the window and hits my face.

“What the hell?” I bury my head under the pillow. “Who opened my curtains?”

I throw off the pillow and reluctantly open my eyes to find the culprit heartless enough to do this to me.

Alicia stands in front of the window, holding two ceramic mugs from my kitchen. “You do realize that it’s almost eleven o’clock?”

The smell of coffee hits my nose, and I groan. “I knew I’d eventually regret giving you a key. Why didn’t you let me sleep?”

She chuckles. “Because you would sleep your entire day away if I let you.”

Not wrong.

But still…

Rude.

The blinding-light thing is a little bit harsh. There’s no way I’ll get back to sleep now. I groan and sit up against the headboard. Alicia hands me a mug, climbs up next to me, and leans back.

She nudges my shoulder. “Drink your coffee and lose your attitude.”

Alicia may be a bit harsh and direct at times—I think that’s the litigator in her—but she’s the kind of friend everyone needs at least one of. The one who will tell me the dress makes my butt look big or that I should never have done something. She’s the real and honest one. The one I can always count on, even though she may tell me things I don’t want to hear.

I take a sip of the steaming-hot latte.

At least she made my drink right.

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