Page 3

~Andy~

As I walked through the quad toward my afternoon Theology class, it felt as if someone were watching me. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, but as I glanced around, no one seemed to even notice I was there. But the closer I got to the building, the more I was sure that I was right.

When I reached the steps I stopped and turned, scanning my gaze over the yard, sure that someone had their eyes on me. And when I finally spotted the man whose glare could laser through glass as it met mine, my stomach rolled and a wave of nausea washed over me.

Trevor Hix was sitting on the lawn, his angry gaze locked on mine.

What in the actual fuck was he doing there?

A crowd of people pushed past me and I fell in step with them, turning away from Trevor to enter the building. But I walked right past my class and straight out the back exit, pulling my phone from my pocket and pushing my sister’s contact button.

“Did you know?”

“Hello to you, too,” Caitlyn said brightly. “Don’t you have class right now?”

“Fuck you, Caitlyn,” I growled. “Did you know?”

“You’re going to have to be more specific. I know a lot of things.”

“Goddamnit,” I spat. “I put off college for a year so I could come here with you. I rearranged my entire fucking life because you asked me to. I can’t believe you would do this to me.”

“We’ve only been here for a month,” Caitlyn said with a sigh. “You can’t have run into him already.”

I leaned against the wall and closed my eyes. I was going to kill her.

After high school, I’d deliberately lost track of Trevor Hix. Tried to pretend the man didn’t even exist. I’d assumed that he’d been scouted to some Big Ten school somewhere. Partying and quarterbacking himself on a path to professional football.

Never in a million years would I have expected him to end up at a smaller Catholic college in Michigan.

In fact, that was part of the appeal of coming to St. Catherine’s with Caitlyn in the first place. She was a year behind me in school, and I had enough credits to start college as a sophomore anyway, so waiting a year had seemed like a good idea at the time.

That and it was the best college to attend if I was really going to join the priesthood.

“Did you talk to him?” Caitlyn asked. “Oh fuck, Andy, you didn’t get in a fight already did you?”

“No,” I snapped. “We just sort of saw each other across the quad.”

“How did he look?”

“Angry.” I blew out a sigh. “I’m going to murder you. Cut off your hair while you sleep. Put all of your bras in the freezer.”

“Okay, you’re just deescalating your threats,” she teased. “You’ve got it bad.”

“I hate you.” I hung up the phone and shoved it back in my pocket, but stayed where I was leaning against the building.

My sister was a sweet girl, really. But over the past year she’d gotten it into her head that the reason Trevor and I were constantly at odds was due to unresolved sexual tension between us.

It was fucking disgusting, really. As if that neanderthal was even my type. Not that she knew what my type was. No one did. Because it wasn’t anyone else’s business.

That shit was between me and my therapist.

And it had nothing at all to do with Trevor Hix.

Neither did my decision to become a priest. Which she also didn’t believe.

My parents, devout in the Catholic faith, had been thrilled when I’d told them that I would be joining the priesthood. Hell, I was pretty sure my mother almost told me she loved me, which I couldn’t ever remember her doing. Thankfully she caught herself before we accidentally had a moment.

I think both of my parents had suspected that I wasn’t the prodigal son they’d dreamed of. That I wouldn’t grow up, marry a nice Midwestern girl and start popping out grandchildren.