Losing My Religion Page 17

  But after kissing Quinn on Saturday?

  Nothing was broken. I wasn’t broken. At least not in the way I’d thought. I’d kissed a dozen girls, searching for something more, something deeper. And I’d never found it. Not until my lips touched Quinn’s. The second his lips found mine, I realized what it was that I’d been missing.

  Him.

  My lips tingle just from the thought of that night, Quinn’s hard body pressed against mine as his tongue worked its magic inside my mouth. It took everything in me not to slither to the floor, my knees feeling like they turned into silly putty in an instant. And, out on the dance floor, each time his mouth found mine, it was like adding fuel to the fire, the inferno raging deep inside me heightening with every touch of his body.

  Elder Shaw clears his throat, snapping me out of my daze and calling me back to the present. The questioning lift of his eyebrow as he regards me tells me just how red my face must be at getting caught thinking of the man I’m falling for in front of the mission president.

  I do my best to give him a sheepish, innocent look. I drop my shoulders, lowering my chin to my chest, as I stare down at the papers on his desk. He gathers the stack in his hands, straightening the papers and tapping them on the edge of his desk before placing them back where they were. There was no point to the motion. I think he just needed something to busy himself as he decided the best way to proceed.

  “So, Elder Barker, you’re probably wondering why I asked you to join me this morning.”

  I nod in answer. When he gives me another wary look, clearly not pleased with my response, I clear my throat, straightening my spine in my seat.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Elder Shaw leans back in his chair, linking his fingers and resting them across his protruding belly. His silver hair is thinning on top, and from the contrast of the skin of his cheeks and the skin of his chin and jaw, I’d guess that he had quite a beard before being called as a mission president, forcing him to shave it off.

  Another thing not allowed in the mission field—facial hair.

  A few years ago, a man in my ward back home was called, and he shaved off the mustache he’d had as long as I’d known him. It was slightly creepy, seeing him with that baby-soft skin, three shades paler than the rest of his face. It’s strange, how something as small as a mustache can alter a person’s appearance.

  My focus drifts from Elder Shaw’s jawline to his eyes where I find another quizzical look, only this time there’s a touch of annoyance. My thoughts are all over the place today, my brain going off on tangents without warning, and evidently, Elder Shaw can read it all over my face.

  He straightens, placing his elbows on the desk and propping his chin up on his fist. He looks down at me with an air of authority and arrogance, his lips pursed in a disapproving frown, his nostrils flaring, as if he smells something foul. And I’m struck with the sudden need to laugh. This man is staring down his nose at me, superiority emanating from his every pore, yet all I can think is how strange he looks missing a beard. Then, I have an image of him dressed as Santa, bushy beard in place, turning his nose down at little children as they wish for ponies and PlayStations for Christmas.

  No, no, Johnny. You don’t want a fire truck for Christmas. Here’s The Book of Mormon. Read it, and think about what you’ve done.

  Before I’m able to stop it, a laugh bubbles up from my chest, blowing past my lips with a sputter. I try to cover it with a cough, telling Elder Shaw I have a tickle in my throat, but I can tell he doesn’t buy it.

  When he finally speaks, he confirms that he knows I’m full of crap. “Well, I can see why your companion is so concerned with your behavior.”

  His words are like ice water down the back of my shirt. Elder Fisher is behind this. Suddenly, Elder Shaw’s baby face doesn’t seem so funny anymore. The stern look in his eyes overshadows any friendliness I might have detected earlier, the firm set of his jaw telling me that what he’s going to say is no laughing matter.

  “Elder Fisher has raised some rather unsettling issues as far as you’re concerned. He says, in the month you’ve been here, you’ve been distant, unreliable, and unmotivated. He told us he’s tried speaking with you on multiple occasions, and while you seem to shape up for a short period following these discussions, you always seem to fall right back into old habits. He’s asked us to intervene, as he feels you’re not giving it your all and not getting the full missionary experience. And, in turn, you are hindering his own efforts.”

  I sink down in my chair, wishing more than anything that I could just vanish into thin air. Where’s that dang invisibility cloak my pal Harry P. had when you need it? It’d sure come in handy right about now. Or the ability to apparate.

  I have nothing to say in my defense. I know I’ve been a crummy companion. I’ve tried to be better. But I can’t force something I don’t feel. Quinn is the actor, not me. I can’t put on a character and play it out in front of an audience, hoping they’ll buy into what I’m selling. I’ve been trying to do that very thing my entire life, and I’ve always come up short. Out here, well, it’s just a broader stage to showcase my lack of talent. A grand arena in which I choke.

  When I don’t speak, Elder Shaw continues, the grim set of his lips slackening slightly. “Now, Jaden,” he says, surprising me with the use of my first name.

  It’s the first time I’ve heard it from someone other than Quinn in several months, not since the day my parents dropped me off in front of the MTC. Even then, my parents tried to help me get into my new role, addressing me as Elder as they hugged me and said their good-byes.

  “We understand that being out in the mission field can seem like a daunting experience. There is always a brief adjustment period, no matter how much training and preparation the Elder has had. For some, that adjustment period takes a little longer. There’s nothing wrong with that. It’s hard, being away from home. From your family and friends. I completely understand that.”

  I nod, clasping on to that thread and hanging on for dear life. “Yes, sir. I’m having a difficult time adjusting.”

  He smiles gently, his eyes crinkling in the corners. “That’s just fine, Jaden. We still have faith that you’ll find your way and become the missionary we know you can be. We just need you to try a little harder. Push yourself to try things outside of your comfort level. Elder Fisher says he gives most of the lessons. Why don’t you try giving them this week? See how that feels.”

  I want to tell him that Elder Fisher doesn’t give me a chance to speak even if I wanted to. I find it hard to believe that Fisher complained about my lack of participation in the lessons. He likes the sound of his own voice too much. He’s not going to like being told to take the backseat to me. But, instead of telling Elder Shaw all this, I nod.

  “I’d like to try that,” I lie.

  This seems to placate him, his smile widening as he steps out from around his desk. “Good. Let’s bring in Elder Fisher, and we’ll work out the logistics of this week. Let’s schedule a follow-up for next week and see how it goes.”

  He opens the door and ushers Fisher inside from the hallway. Fisher seems almost relieved to be let into the room, looking like he was two seconds away from breaking out in hives from being left on his own.

  If only he knew he was alone the entire night on Saturday.

  When I snuck back inside, I found Fisher in the exact same position I’d left him in, his arm thrown over his head and his mouth gaping open, as his loud snores filled the room. He didn’t stir as I climbed inside the window and changed my clothes. Didn’t make a single peep as I crawled into bed. He woke me just two hours later, not looking any wiser to the fact that I’d snuck out the night before.

  And, now, sitting in the president’s office, listening to him drone on about how we need to work together to bring ourselves closer to the Lord, I realize I completely got away with it. I had been fairly confident of the fact as I lay in bed that night, but after hearing from the president, I was concerne
d. I couldn’t see Fisher keeping something like that to himself if he knew I’d been out, but maybe he wanted to wait and watch the mission president ream me instead of doing it himself.

  But there’s no way he wouldn’t have said anything at all—to me or Elder Shaw—if he knew.

  I pulled it off.

  We pulled it off, the entire idea having been Quinn’s.

  I can’t wait to tell him. And I hope we can do it again soon.

  I turn my attention back to Elder Shaw, realizing how much of a hypocrite I’m being, listening and agreeing with everything he’s saying to his face while, in my head, planning my next excursion with Quinn. But I’m convinced I can do both.

  I can be with Quinn. And I can be a good missionary. I know I can.

  Because I prayed last night. I asked God to give me a sign. To tell me if what I was doing was wrong. I begged for him to show me the light, to let me know if I disappointed him.

  Nothing happened. I prayed and prayed and prayed some more, waiting for my answer. But, again, it never came.

  Until the phone under my pillow vibrated, pulling me out of my turmoil. If I wasn’t going to get my answer from God, then the least I could do was talk to the only man who knew and understood me. The only man who made me smile.

  Quinn: I can’t wait to see you again.

  An overwhelming sense of peace and love washed over me, and I knew then that I had my answer. I’d had that feeling before in my life. That all-consuming feeling of acceptance and understanding. The power of the Holy Ghost.

  God answered my prayers, filling my body with warmth and affirmation when I saw those few words from Quinn. And, if he didn’t have a problem with Quinn and me being together, then I sure as heck wasn’t going to fight it any longer.

  I could bring the Lord’s word to people and still be true to myself.

  He gave me permission. He opened my heart to the truth, and I was going to do everything in my power to make Him proud.

  As long as the church didn’t stand in my way.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  * * *

  Quinn

  I pace around my apartment, wearing a tread in the already-shitty carpet. I pause for a moment when I think I hear a noise, only to start back up again when I realize it was just a creak from the wind blowing against my window. Pulling my phone out, I check the time once more. It’s not like Jaden’s late, but I still feel like I’m losing my mind with anticipation and worry.

  What if he’s changed his mind? What if he’s decided the past few days were a mistake? What if I pushed him too hard? What if he hates me?

  Okay, that last one is a bit of a stretch, considering the time we’ve recently spent together. But the others could be definite possibilities. When it comes to Jaden, I always feel like I’m toeing a line that could easily be crossed. Fuck, it’s a line I want to cross. Just not before he’s ready.

  For the past three nights, Jaden has been sneaking up the fire escape and spending the night with me after his companion falls asleep. We talk, laugh, or watch movies. Hell, sometimes, we even snuggle and fall asleep. I’ve never been much of a cuddler. But, when Jaden is in my arms, there’s no place else I’d rather be. Even if it is in this hellhole.

  Every night, I set an alarm for five a.m., giving him plenty of time to get back downstairs and settled before Fisher rouses him for the day. I don’t know how the poor guy is even functioning at this point, the two of us only getting about ten hours of sleep combined since this started. I have the luxury of being able to grab a quick nap here and there between shifts. Jaden, on the other hand, is all go once his feet hit the pavement. But he insists he’s fine.

  I sit down on the edge of my bed, crossing one leg over the other knee and leaning back on my palms, trying to look as casual as possible for when he shows up. Deciding that’s the most unnatural pose in the history of man, I jump to my feet, striding into the kitchen and positioning myself in various stances, trying to figure out which will put off the cool-as-a-cucumber vibe I want to convey. The last thing I want Jaden to see is me running around like a preteen idiot before his first date.

  A light tap sounds from the window as I lean over, propping my elbows on the counter and pretending to read something in front of me. I know I look uncomfortable as all hell, but I try to keep it mellow as I push back and smile at him, acting like I didn’t just spend the last ten minutes anticipating this very moment.

  I walk over to the window, opening it wide, and hold my hand out to help him inside. Jaden jumps down, straightening the flannel pants and T-shirt he wears at night, before his smile meets my own.

  We both move at the same time, pulling one another into a hug, his strong arms circling my body and squeezing tight. I return the gesture, all the worries and stresses of my day evaporating, as if they never existed in the first place. I meant what I said. There’s no place I’d rather be than in Jaden’s arms. We could be standing in the bowels of hell, and I’d still be satisfied as long as this man was with me.

  He lets go of me first, dropping his arms from my waist and taking my hand. He pulls me into the kitchen, right to where I was standing when he arrived.

  “You looked rather preoccupied when I got here. Reading anything important?” he asks with a sly smile.

  I can feel the flush creeping into my cheeks as he picks up the flyer.

  “Forty percent off mail-order push-up bras. Well, that is tantalizing literature. I personally think you’d look good in this red one here. Red is definitely your color.”

  I snatch the flier out of his hand, realizing I didn’t throw out today’s junk mail until this very minute. Grabbing the rest of the garbage, I walk over to the trash bin and ceremoniously dump it all in, even going as far as dusting off my hands when I’m done.

  “Aw, but, Q, you’d look so pretty. How will you order one now? You just tossed the order form.”

  I stomp back across the kitchen, my arms coming to rest on either side of Jaden, caging him in between me and the counter. “Are you saying I’m not pretty?” I growl, my voice husky with desire.

  I’ve been waiting all day to see him. I can’t wait another minute.

  Jaden doesn’t waste any time, his hands fisting in my shirt as he pulls me to him. He thoroughly kisses me, his own hunger evident with every brush of his lips, leaving no corner of my mouth untouched.

  I love seeing this side of him. He was the first to kiss me that night in the club, but since then, he’s been sort of shy, pulling into himself and never being the one to make the first move. Then last night, he’d opened up to me, becoming freer and freer with his body and emotions as the evening progressed. Having him yank me against himself and kiss me like I’m his dying breath and he’s gasping for air…well, it’s pretty fucking incredible.

  He guides me to the bed, pulling me down on top of him as he lies back, our mouths never breaking contact for a second. We spend the next God knows how long locked in that very position. I will never tire of kissing this man. Our physical relationship could stagnate right here, and I’d still die a happy man. Of course, my dick has other things to say about that.

  At that thought, I pull back, giving Jaden one last lingering kiss before rolling off him and pulling him into my arms, spooning him against my body. I love being the big spoon to his little.

  He snuggles down into me, linking his arms and legs with mine so that we’re a tangled mess of limbs and clothes. But, despite the awkward positioning of our bodies, it’s the most comfortable I’ve ever been.

  “How was your day?” I ask, nuzzling the tip of my nose against his neck and up to his ear.

  He shivers under my touch, craning his neck to give me more access. I run my lips against the soft flesh, not kissing or licking, just savoring the feel of his skin against mine.

  “It was okay. Had to lead a couple of lessons again today. I swear, Fisher is going to have a coronary one of these days if he has to be silent much longer. The guy just can’t stand not interjecting hi
s opinion every three seconds.”

  I smile at his comment, envisioning Fisher and his pissed off face as he sits silently in the background. And my smile only deepens when Jaden’s skin prickles at the feel of my grin against his skin.

  “I can only imagine. Though it’s about time that guy took a step back into the shadows, where he belongs. Anyone can see you’re the star of that show. He’s lucky you let him be your flunky sidekick.”

  He chuckles, the sound causing his throat to vibrate, sending an electric shock right through me, straight to my cock. I love the sound of his laugh.

  “I think you might be biased.”

  This time, I flick the tip of my tongue along a vein in his neck. “You might be right. But, if there’s one thing I know, it’s leading men. And you, my friend, are a leading man. Anyone who tries to cast you as a supporting actor is missing out.”

  Jaden twists his head around, pressing a soft kiss against my lips. “Where does that leave us? You’re a leading man. If I’m a leading man, what does that mean for us? Everyone knows there can only be one leading man in every good movie.”

  I scoff. “Says who? We’ll rewrite the standard. People won’t know what hit them.”

  He laughs again, twisting around and settling his eyes on the TV. I was watching this show I’d recently discovered on Netflix before he arrived. Well, trying to anyway. I was too distracted by his imminent arrival to really pay attention.

  He perks up when he sees a character’s eyes flash red. “What’s this?”

  I let him go for a second, reaching over him for the remote on the nightstand and hitting pause. “iZombie. Someone at work recommended it a few days ago, and I’ve been hooked ever since. This zombie chick is the shit.” I scroll back through the Netflix menu, selecting the very first episode. “You have to watch it with me. You and Major would totes be best buddies. You both have that do-gooder attitude I love so much.”