When I wake up again, my head roars with pain.

I immediately clutch my face and roll around to stop the light from entering my eyes. God, I wish someone hadn’t opened the blinds.

“Morning …”

I squint and see that beautiful angel again, her body glistening in the light of the sun with the rays dancing on her skin. I only now realize it’s Laura … and that I’m completely and utterly infatuated with her.

“Did you sleep well?” she asks.

I nod, but when I try to answer, my throat dries up, and I cough.

“Here, have some water.” She hands me a glass, and our fingers briefly touch during the exchange, causing sparks to shoot up my veins like fireworks.

God … I can’t remember the last time I touched a woman who gave me these feelings. Please forgive me.

I swallow and gulp down the water in one go, thirsty for more. “Thanks.”

She takes back the glass and pours me another until I’m sated, and I place the glass on the table beside me.

I look around and notice the room isn’t what I’m used to. The walls are a salmon color, in the corner is a small wooden chair and a wardrobe, and the blanket I’m lying under feels ruffled. It’s much more somber than my room, which I didn’t think was possible.

But the point is … it’s not my room. I’m in somebody else’s house.

“Where am I?” I mutter, squeezing my eyes to make the light less painful.

“My home. Sorry, I had to bring you here. It was closer, and I couldn’t carry you all the way back to church.”

“Carry me?” I mutter. “Oh, God.” I rub my face and blow out a breath then sit up straight. “I remember now …”

“I found you out on the street. You seemed intoxicated.”

I look down at my hands, ashamed of myself. How could I look her in the eyes? I’m the son of a bitch she had to take care of. A fucking preacher being taken in by a girl because he was too drunk to walk back home.

“I … I’m so, so sorry.” Words cannot explain how terrible I feel right now.

Literally, I feel like I’ve been struck with a hammer.

“I shouldn’t have put that on you,” I add.

“No, it’s okay …” She smiles so sweetly that it tears up my heart. God, what did I do to deserve her? Nothing. I did nothing, yet she still crossed my path like it was meant to happen.

“If you hadn’t found me, I don’t know where I would’ve ended up.” I try to laugh it off, but it’s as serious as can be. “I could’ve died.”

“No, don’t be silly.” She chuckles, but from the look in her eyes, I can tell she knows it was serious.

I was way beyond drunk. I was hammered. Completely wasted to the point of blacking out.

“But you’re here now. Alive.” She smiles again. “How do you feel?”

“Like someone smacked me with a table.”

She grins. “Sounds like you had a lot to drink.”

“Tell me about it …” I mutter, slapping my face to wake myself up properly.

“Well, I hope it was fun,” she muses.

“Not really.” Wait. Did I just say that out loud? Guess I did, because she’s looking at me all weird and shit.

“But … why drink then?” she asks, but then she holds up her hand. “Wait, don’t answer. I’m sorry. That was kinda rude to ask.”

“No, it’s okay. I know I drink too much. It’s a habit.”

“Is it because of …? I’m sorry … um …”

“What? Because of you … Oh …” I look away, smashing my lips together as I’m thinking about how to accurately put this without making it sound dirty as fuck. “About that… I just had an off day. I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“An off day?” She repeats me like she doesn’t believe me.

Of course, she doesn’t because I’m lying. Why can she see straight through me? Dammit. “I mean, I was drunk, and I was stupid.” I slap my forehead again, just thinking about her seeing me naked and jerking off.

“It’s okay. I ran because I panicked and I didn’t know what else to do, but now that I think about, it really doesn’t matter.” She swallows, grabbing my hand. “I get it. We all have needs.”

“Yeah, but most of us don’t expose ourselves to other people,” I say. “Let alone preachers.”

She struggles to hide a laugh. “Well, yeah, you are the last person I expected to do that.”

“I’m not your average preacher.”

“I could tell …” She struggles to hide a smile.

Was that a dick joke or an ass joke?

Or am I imagining things now?

Whatever it is only makes me like her more. Girls who aren’t afraid to enjoy the good side of life. And judging from her confession the other day, she sure seems to be enjoying herself from time to time.

“Hmm … Maybe I shouldn’t have spoken about that … thing. In confession.” She looks away, but I can clearly see the blush on her cheeks.

I place my hand on top of hers. “Like you said, we all have needs.”

She nods, dipping her tongue out to quickly lick her top lips then rub her lips together. God, what I wouldn’t give to lick them too.

Contain yourself, Frank!

I clear my throat. “I wanted to apologize to you for seeing that. I should’ve locked the door.” I look her in the eye as I speak, not wanting this to feel fake to her, even though I’m going to ask her something very personal. “Can we … keep this a secret?”

“A secret?”

“I’d prefer if Margaret didn’t find out.”

“Margaret?”

“Yeah, the old lady at the church. You’ve seen her, right? She’s basically the one who organizes everything there.”

“Oh.” She frowns. “Yeah, of course. But … only if you keep my confession a secret too.”

“Done.” I hold out my hand, and she shakes it. “That’s an easy one since confessions are strictly between the confessor, the preacher, and God.”

“What?”

I burst out into laughter. “Relax, I’m not going to tell anyone about your little sexcapade in the bathroom.”

Her whole face turns red again. “Shh … not so loud. We’re not alone.” She looks at the door, which is opened slightly.

“Oh, sorry.” I smile, and somehow, that makes everything right again.

She picks up a wet cloth and holds it to my forehead. For some reason, it feels really intimate. It’s been a long time since I had someone take such diligent care of me. Since I last felt feminine hands touch me in such a delicate way.

“Thanks,” I say as she slowly wipes the cloth along my forehead and cheeks.

“You’re welcome.” She smiles back. “You were sweating so much last night. But you look a little bit better now.”

“You stayed with me all night?” I ask.

She nods and gestures to the makeshift bed on the floor, which consists of a pillow and a blanket. “Slept over there.”

“Oh, no … you shouldn’t – I took your bed?” A pang of guilt stings in my stomach.

“It’s okay. It’s not the first time. “Bruno sleeps here often when he’s sick. He doesn’t like being alone.”

“Bruno … your little brother, right?”

She opens her mouth and then closes it again, containing whatever she was going to say.

“We don’t have a lot of rooms, but it’s cozy. We like it this way. And we’re happy,” she muses, making me smile because she’s content, even with what little she has. I wish I could say the same.

She continues to pat me down, the cold water giving temporary relief to my overheated body. God, what I wouldn’t give for an entire wipe down of my body right now. Everything. But I’ll take a cold shower too.

When she’s about to pull away, I grab her wrist and murmur, “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. It’s the least I could do.”

“So … you’re not mad at me?” I ask.

Her brows draw together, and it’s the best angry face I’ve ever seen. I could look at this all day and still feel completely at ease.

“No, of course not.” Her smile is so bright … it makes me forget everything I was thinking. And for some reason, my hand automatically reaches for her face, wanting to get closer to divinity, to whatever it is that makes me feel this way about her. With the back of my index finger, I brush her cheek, her hair flowing past my hand smoothly. My eyes focused solely on her. I can’t take them off.

But then I realize what I’m doing is incredibly awkward, and I clear my throat and pull my hand back before it gets even more awkward.

It’s quiet for some time, and I know she can sense the awkwardness too.

Luckily, she breaks the ice before I blurt out something stupid. “Do you … Would you like to stay for breakfast?”

“Uh …” I think about it for a second, but I can’t find any excuses not to. Especially not with the way she’s looking at me right now. “Sure, why not.”

“Cool.” She gets up and grabs something off the cabinet in the far corner. “I washed and dried them. I couldn’t get the stain out, but this is as good as I could get it.” It’s my clothes from yesterday, and she hands them to me.

“Whoa … thank you so much. You didn’t have to.”

“Yeah, I did,” she insists. “You were a mess.”

“Thanks, I guess.” I frown.

“You’re welcome.” She winks, and it sets my heart ablaze.

Fuck me; I like a woman who knows how to taunt me.

But she’d better be careful with that.

“I’ll see you in a minute then?”

“Sure.” I nod and throw the blanket off me.

It’s only then I realize she took off my clothes … and I’m sitting here in bed in only a pair of boxer shorts. Great.

She snorts and covers her mouth with her hand, to which I immediately reply, “Like you haven’t seen that before.”

“I’ll just go.” She shows herself out before I embarrass myself any further.

I quickly put on my stuff, which smells so damn fresh; like lilies … or any other fresh flower. Like I can fucking tell. The point is it smells good, and I like the feel of it. So smooth. Maybe I should ask her to wash my clothes more often in exchange for payment. Would that be weird? It probably would.

As my internal monolog rambles in my head, I fluff up my messy hair in the scratched mirror hanging on the wall and straighten my collar, making sure I look pristine before I go out. Can’t let anyone else find out I’m an alcoholic … I mean, she’s got brothers and shit. Gotta keep up appearances for her sake. I don’t want to embarrass her too.

When I’m ready, I pop out of the room.

I’m immediately greeted by Bruno and Laura’s grumpy brother, Diego, who slams his coffee down on the table. “What’s he doing here?”

“Diego!” Laura hisses from the kitchen, giving him the evil eye.

“What?”

“He’s our guest,” she explains as she stops cooking the eggs and turns to face him.

“I never invited him.”

“Well, I did.” She taps her foot and puts her hand on her side. “Stop being such an asshole.”

“Tell him that.” Diego eyes me now, and I feel like I’ve walked into something so personal, I’m about to excuse myself.

“It’s okay, Laura,” I say. “I’m not hungry anyway.”

She immediately marches over to the table, grabs a chair, and points at it. “Sit.”

“Really, it’s not needed,” I say, trying not to get between them.

“I’m not taking no for an answer,” she declares, glaring at me and the chair until I finally sit down. “You’re my guest, and we feed our guests properly …” She looks over at Diego. “And we treat them with kindness.”

“Fuck off,” he mutters with his mouth still on his cup.

She grabs his plate and brings it to the kitchen.

“Hey! I wasn’t even done yet.”

“Can’t be nice?” she spits. “Then you don’t eat.”

He rolls his eyes while scooting his chair back. He stands and then saunters out the door, slamming it shut behind him.

Laura sighs and rubs her forehead. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize to me. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I know.” She puts a fork and knife in front of me along with a plate. “I hate when that happens.”

“He’s a stubborn kid. But he’ll grow out of it.”

“I pray to God he will.” She sighs. “He’s so hard to handle.”

“I can imagine,” I say. “Diego just needs a bit of a push, that’s all.”

“Yeah, well … leave that up to his dad. He’d smack some sense into him if he could.” She chuckles awkwardly, but her laughter dies out as quickly as a snuffed-out flame.

“Is he around?” I ask, hoping I’m not out of bounds with my question.

“No … and I don’t want him to be,” she declares. “We live on our own.”

“So you’re like their caregiver or something?”

“Yeah, I rent this place, and they stay with me. I’m the only one they’ve got, so I have no choice. Family, you know.”

“I get it,” I say, nodding. “And your mother …?”

“I prefer not to discuss my family,” she says, adding a smile while setting some spices on the table. “If that’s okay.”

“Yeah, of course.” I clear my throat. “Sorry, I didn’t know. I wouldn’t have asked otherwise.”

“It’s fine,” she says. “Anyway, want some milk with your coffee?”

“No, I like it black,” I answer, and she sits down with me.

I’m flabbergasted by the amount of food she puts on the table. Eggs. Biscuit. Muffins. Sweet rolls. Coffee. And even some homemade fruit salad.

It’s quiet for some time until she breaks the ice again. I don’t know why I always grow silent with her. I can’t help but stare, and then I completely lose my words when I’m around her.

“Well … eat!” The big smile on her face snaps me out of it.

I grab a sweet roll as she pours coffee into our cups. “Bruno! Breakfast,” she yells down the hall.

“Coming!” the little boy yells back.

Laura grabs a glass of water and takes a pill, which I recognize as birth control. Well, you can never be safe enough. Especially when you intend to fuck a guy like me because I fuck often and I like pussy a lot.

I’m in the middle of spreading butter on my roll when Bruno strolls in without pants and with one finger in his nose while the other one is smashing buttons on what looks like a handheld video game device.

“Bruno! Why are you naked?”

“Naked? I’m not naked,” he replies, flicking his booger into the air.

“Ugh, Bruno, stop doing that, please.” She closes her eyes and lets out a long-drawn-out sigh.

I chuckle to myself. The kid’s a lot like me—walking out of his room without any care for how he looks, what he does, and with his addiction right there on display. No fucks were given.

“And put on some pants,” she says. “Or you’ll permanently scar Frank.”

“Scars? He’s got scars?” The kid’s eyes glow with excitement, and I laugh at the sight.

“No, kid, but I do have some ink on my skin and invisible scars.”

“Invisible scars?” He lowers his gaming device and focuses on me, his eyes glimmering with enthusiasm.

“Scars of the soul …” I say, making silly hand movements like it’s magic or something, which makes Laura chuckle.

“What’s ink in your skin?” he asks.

“You know, like tattoos,” I answer.

“Tattoos? You’ve got tattoos?” He seems genuinely thrilled. “Can I see them?”

“No, Bruno. Stop asking so many questions. You’re bothering him,” Laura insists, drinking her coffee.

“Aw …” He looks disappointed.

I rub his head until his hair is messy. “Maybe some other time, kid.”

“Put on some pants,” Laura says. “He doesn’t wanna see your naked ass.”

“It’s fine,” I whisper to Laura. “I’ve seen so much ass in my life, nothing will faze me at this point.”

She makes a face and shrugs. “All right, if you say so.”

Bruno smiles as he sits down at the table and places his video game beside his plate. “What’s that?” He points at my cup.

“Coffee. Want some?” I hold it out to him, after which Laura gives me the death stare.

“No, thanks. I already took a sip a week ago, when Laura wasn’t looking, and I didn’t like it.”

I snort as Laura’s jaw drops, but she doesn’t make a sound, which makes it even better.

I love this little squirt already.

I take a bite from the sweet roll and groan a little. Fuck, that’s good.

“Like it?” Laura asks.

“Mmm … so good,” I answer.

“Her eggs are good too,” Bruno says, picking one up. “I love them.”

“Not much to mess up there,” she muses.

I grab an egg and peel it, taking a bite. “Delicious.”

“See?” Bruno grins. “Told you so!”

“You’re a smart little man. Eggs are good for you, did you know? They make you grow and become strong.”

“Laura says the same thing,” he muses.

Laura gives me a coy smile as she takes a grape from the fruit salad and stuffs it in her mouth.

“So are you her boyfriend?”

She spits out half the grape. “Bruno!”

I laugh and take a sip of my coffee. “Nope.”

“Are you sure?”

“Take a biscuit” Laura growls, stuffing it into his mouth to stop him from talking.

“Oh, wait,” he says, munching on his biscuit. “You can’t. You’re a priest, right?”

“Preacher. And I can,” I answer.

“So you can marry someone?”

“Yeah,” I answer.

“Hmm … Odd.”

The kid’s so curious. I wonder if he even knows what a preacher is.

“So you work for the church then?” he asks.

“I don’t work for the church, but I do give sermons.”

My eyes widen.

Sermons. I was supposed to give one today.

“Shit!” I jump up from my chair.

“What?” Laura asks.

“I’m supposed to be at church. Shit!”

Bruno chuckles. “He’s swearing.”

“Shhh …” Lauren shushes him, and then she looks at me. “So you have to go?”

“Yeah, I’m so sorry. Breakfast was real nice though. Thanks.”

“Take it with you,” she says, and I take the opportunity to stuff a roll into my mouth.

“Thanks so much for everything,” I mutter through the biscuit, sounding like an idiot.

“Don’t mention it.”

“So we’ll see you in church then?” Bruno asks as I make my way to the door.

I pause and look over my shoulder at Laura. “Ask your sister.”

Then I leave the house.

And it strikes me. It’s the first time in ages when I’ve actually felt guilty over not being where I’m supposed to be. That I know I messed up and have to make it right. It’s like somehow, someway, Laura turned the switch inside my brain that forces me to come face to face with my demons.

And conquer them all.