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“Yeah?” He smirks, running his fingers through my beard. “What about?”
Heat fills my cheeks as I look at the floor. “Well…”
He pinches my chin between his fingers and tips my head up, daring me to meet his dark stare. “Say it, Jarred.”
“I was thinking about the other night,” I admit, reaching up to run my hands across his broad shoulders. “About how good it felt. About how I want it to happen again.”
“Oh, it’s going to happen again, babe,” he says, thumbing my bottom lip. Something flashes through his face as he drops his hand and sighs. “Well, maybe not after I tell you what I have to say.”
I furrow my brows as I chase the feeling of his hands on me. “What is it?”
“I fucked up.”
“What did you do?”
“I was in ministry, and I may or may not have outed myself…” He bites at his bottom lip as he stares at me hesitantly. He takes a single step back and runs a hand down his mouth. “I might have also told the kids I don’t believe in God…”
I jerk my head. “You what?”
“I’m sorry,” he says, rushing up to grab my hands and help me sit on the edge of my desk. “They were just asking all these questions, and I didn’t want to lie to them. I…honestly, I have no idea what the fuck happened.”
Dazed, I ask. “How did they react?”
“Some were quiet, others were grossed out, but—um—one threatened to call his parents.”
“Oh,” I rasp, my stomach filling with a sense of unease as I try to come to terms with his words. Although Noah’s never hidden who he is, I never thought he’d actually tell the kids he’s bisexual. I mean, it’s not exactly a topic I’d want my campers to address during a casual youth ministry. Before I can say anything, Noah speaks.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he says, looking uncharacteristically worried. “Kendall made me see that it wasn’t about me. I don’t want to ruin what you’ve built. I kind of like it here.”
“I…” I settle my thoughts, reaching inside of me to try and decipher what exactly it is I’m feeling. Surprisingly, I find the obvious one missing. “I’m not angry.”
His pierced brow shoots up to his hairline. “You’re not?”
“No,” I say truthfully, reaching to grab his wrists and pull him between my spread thighs. “Lying is a sin and you spoke your truth. It’s okay to have doubts, and the kids need to know this. Sometimes we stray, but the Lord will always be there for us.”
He scoffs. “Yeah, we’ll revisit that topic later.”
I swallow harshly. “You really don’t believe in God?”
“Why would I?” he says, his tone angry, and I can feel the tension in his body through his wrists. “He was crammed down my throat my entire life. I’m repulsed by the idea of God.”
From all I know about Noah, I should have seen that coming. He wasn’t exactly enthused about coming to this particular camp. During mass, he doesn’t bow his head and pray with us. He doesn’t even take communion. But there’s something about hearing this confirmation that unsettles me.
What could a life without God be like? I guess I never really thought that was an option. As soon as I was born, I was baptized. I grew up going to Sunday school and was even an altar boy. God has always been there in the back of every decision and every act. He’s so deeply ingrained within me that I can’t imagine ever being without Him.
“Why are you repulsed by Him?” I ask, feeling sick even saying those words.
The tips of his ears turn red as he grinds his teeth. Behind the angry façade, I can see that he’s the slightest bit embarrassed by his following words. “My parents…they love God more than they love me.”
My heart softens for him. “Noah…”
“It’s true,” he rushes out. “I was always in second place with them. God before everything. God before anything. God before your own fucking son.”
“Is that why they sent you here?”
“Yeah. I wasn’t living the way God would want me to and it pissed them off. Apparently enough for them to hold my college fund hostage,” he snarks with a roll of his eyes, although I can see the brief flash of pain in his eyes. “I’m not worth their unconditional love, not if God’s involved.”
“Noah,” I say, licking my lips as I run my hands up his arms soothingly. “That’s not true.”
