chapter TWENTY

Grace

Softly closing the door is a far cry from the loud thudding of my heart against my chest. The tears trickling down my face feel like hot melting wax searing my skin. Seeing Nix with another woman is too painful; add the poison of envy, and it is unbearable.

“Now!” I hear him yell. If not for his angered tone, now could mean a lot of things.

Instead of dousing my brain with jealous thoughts about Nix and his woman, I force myself to think of what connects me to a man I’ve known for only a short period of time.

I soon realize that we’re more similar than different.

We’ve both experienced the deaths of our parents in the most brutal and unexpected of ways. There was never any closure on our part, and because of that, we’ve ended up with chipped hearts. Then, through the years, we’ve experienced deaths of people who meant more to us than ourselves. While I used my own loss and pain to make my heart whole again, Nix used his to chip away at more of what was left of his. Now, all he has left is a skeleton of a heart he once had while mine has slowly but surely regained its form.

As my lips move in prayer and my heart begins to calm, the truth of my affection for Nix reaches an ultimate peak. Growing up in the convent, I learned to appreciate the hearts of the people I served. Nix is no different. My feelings are slowly morphing into a deeper devotion that encompasses the entirety of my heart. Every single nook and cranny of it, I’ll gladly give to restore his.

As I drift off to sleep, his lips on mine and his words for me are the validation I need to know who he is to me.

Phoenix Hayes is the lover of my soul.

I am waiting for embarrassment to hit me once I open my eyes. The memory of our shared kiss is still fresh. Just like the sting of Nix being with another woman is.

Before negative thoughts completely overtake my heart, I begin my morning prayers with great urgency. After, I prepare to leave the protection of my room. Even though the fear of running into Nix and the voluptuous woman dangles in my psyche like a carrot to a hungry rabbit, my screaming bladder comes first. I have been holding it for too long.

“Oh my gosh!” My hand flies to my chest in shock when I find Nix slumped against the wall. “What are—wait, are you okay?”

My instinct is to sit down next to him, but my screaming bladder threatens to unleash its tsunami-sized flow if I do. I begin to do the pee-pee dance every woman in the world knows by heart. Even with my one-of-a-kind choreography, Nix remains stone-faced.

“Um…well, nature calls!” I whisk past him, slam the door, and pull my sweats down while praying I don’t pee all over myself. My eyes widen in horror when I see the door is unlocked. But I quickly calm down, knowing he wouldn’t dare come inside.

Suddenly, the door opens with Nix holding and shaking a blanket with his eyes closed. “Here. Cover yourself.”

My jaw drops in disbelief while my pee continues its nonstop and very loud flow. I am mortified beyond imagination as I frantically think of which saint to pray to, to save me from my dire situation.

“Can you just grab the blanket?”

“Nix! I’m in the bathroom.” My flowing pee is our background noise.

He blows out a breath, still with his eyes closed. “I know that.”

“So, why are you in here?”

If only the toilet could swallow me whole and spit me out in a different universe.

“Are you done yet?”

Thank goodness my pee is down to a trickle.

“Don’t open your eyes,” I scold him.

“I will if you don’t grab the blanket. So, do it.” His tone changes from soft and apologetic to I-mean-what-I-say kind of tone.

Begrudgingly, I yank the blanket and cover myself. Can my situation be any more humiliating? Even through my groans of defiance, Nix doesn’t lose his composure. Without standing up, I wrap the blanket around my waist, covering me from the waist down. I look like a pitiful princess on a toilet throne.

“I’m opening my eyes now, all right?” Slowly, he does.

We stare at each other for only the briefest of seconds.

“I’m sorry for last night, Grace. God knows how sorry I am, and I don’t use his name often. I…I didn’t know she was coming. She caught me off guard, and last night was the worst…the worst fucking night of my life.”

“My worst is right now, Nix. I am sitting on a toilet, talking to you inside a bathroom.” If I went number two, that would just be the icing on the cake.

“This is the only chance I have.” His brows furrow as worry lines decorate his forehead. He takes a step and does the unthinkable. He kneels before me. “That kiss we shared last night was one hundred percent real. I meant to do it. Every second of that kiss meant more to me than a million other worthless kisses I’ve shared with anyone else.”

The sincerity in his eyes and the power of their pull help me forget for a fraction of a second where I am and how naked I am from the waist down.

“In a short amount of time, you’ve made me see, feel, understand who I am despite myself.” He cradles my face as he looks earnestly into my eyes. “Your words, your voice…damn, your touch…it heals me. You just don’t get me, Grace; you understand my soul.”

Words fail me at the moment as we continue to gaze at each other. He squeezes his palm against my cheek and then leans in ever so slowly, sliding his hand behind my neck. Without warning, he softly kisses me. Tenderly, his lips move against my still ones with delicate kisses. His tongue glides along the edge of my lips, enticing my mouth to open. Only God knows how innocently stupid I am in this area. And only God knows how I really want to throw my innocence out the door. I ache to match his pecks with perfection.

Nix’s kind of perfection is a high bar to climb.

I force my twenty-five-year-old self to feel like one. I push myself out of my bubble of convent living and into the bubble of who I was before. A carefree, confident, fun, bouncy fifteen-year-old without inhibitions.

Awkwardly, my lips begin to move in sync with his. I feel his lips spread into a smile, and just like that, my confidence hits a dead end. I pull back, sheepishly looking elsewhere but at him.

“What happened?” He looks at me for a second, and then his eyes widen in understanding. “I know this is too fast for you, but I can’t…damn! I’m sorry. I can’t…I just can’t help myself. I’m a twenty-seven-year-old man inside a fifteen-year-old’s head.”

I bow my head in humiliation. “It’s me, Nix. Gosh, I’m the one trapped inside a fifteen-year-old’s head. I’m clumsy, and you were about to laugh at me. I wouldn’t blame you for it. I don’t know what I’m saying.” I groan, my hands twisting the poor blanket.

“Laugh? No!” He groans, burying his face into my neck.

Oh dear Lord, help me.

“I smiled because you were kissing me back.” He gives my neck a soft peck. “I want you to kiss me, Grace. I crave it…” He pulls back, lifting my chin. With our eyes meeting, he says, “I crave you.”

Crave? Isn’t that one of the seven deadly sins?

“I need to go to confession!” I blurt out, making him chuckle in amusement.