Page 67 of I Dare You
The atmosphere is cheerful and relaxed.It’s a nice change from the past few days.But I don’t allow my guard to slip as I discreetly search the crowd for Jupiter.I feel out of sorts that we’re fighting.Like an integral part of me is missing.But in some ways, I also feel…relieved.
Today, seeing her—I mean,reallyseeing her—opened my eyes.I guess I always put her on a pedestal.She saved me in more ways than one.But watching her unguarded revealed an ugly side of her.
I know this revelation is because the person she intends to harm is Kit.And the thought of anything happening to him has me wrestling with my loyalty.
A thought churns low in my belly as I refuse to give it life.What does it say about me if I consider letting my best friend hunt Kit, only to set a trap for her to get caught?
I recoil at the thought.
But it suddenly feels like a game of survival.
She will drag me down with her, or, worse still, she will ruin any hope I might have of a “normal” future with Kit.I know I’m getting ahead of myself, seeing as Kit and I have had one…date?
Is that what last night was?
Nevertheless, her actions remain unpredictable, which makes her dangerous.
My best friend has somehow turned into my foe overnight.And all because I asked that we be careful.
The roars of the crowd snap me from my head as Father Justin splashes into the tank full of water.The thrower is Martin Yellowy, an altar boy.
Oh, the irony.
Father Justin emerges, brushing his wet brown hair from his eyes.“Good shot, Martin.”
“Thank you, Father.”Martin appears sheepish for being the first one to dunk Father Justin.But it’s all in good fun.
Father Justin is plunged into the tank a few more times.It seems everyone is a pitcher tonight.When he jumps back onto the ledge, absolutely drenched and looking a little worse for wear, I ask if he wants to quit, but he stubbornly shakes his head.
He quickly wishes he hadn’t made that choice when the local baseball team steps up, ready to show off their skills.
I’m about to step in but am stopped dead in my tracks when I hear a voice that has goose bumps rippling from head to toe.“Father, the parish needs you, and you may miss Sunday Mass at this pace.”
I can’t keep the smile from my face when I see Kit approaching the stall.
“You may be right, young man.The Lord thanks you,” Father Justin says lightheartedly, thankfully accepting Kit’s offer to take his place.
He doesn’t hesitate as he jumps down from the bench.Sister Georgia is on standby, rushing over with a large towel.
“My car has never driven better, thanks to you,” Father Justin says, vigorously drying his hair.“If you’re looking for more work, come by when you’re free.I have a 1972 F-truck that I’d like to get back on the road.”
“You had me at F-truck.”Kit smiles while I look between him and Father Justin.
More work means more time at the orphanage, which is good, right?I mean, I can keep an eye on him this way without having to resort to stalking.But this also means he’ll be around—a lot.
The way my body reacts just from seeing him makes me wonder what might happen if I saw him every day.
Kit removes his T-shirt, and I swear, I hear every woman in a hundred-yard radius gasp aloud.The sight is fucking delicious.His abs look sculpted from marble, and his low-rise shorts reveal a sharply defined V-shaped muscle.
So I don’t blame the women for falling over themselves.But a possession so fierce engulfs me that I pick up his discarded T-shirt and toss it back at him.
“Please, no one wants to see that.”
Kit bursts into laughter.
Father Justin soon joins him.“I beg to differ, Liv,” he murmurs, discreetly gesturing to the salivating women on the sidelines.“Think of the children.”
My mouth parts in shock.“What sort of priest are you?”I tease playfully because I’m pretty sure exploiting one’s looks isn’t in the pastoral handbook.
