Into Temptation

I run the slippery tip of my lip-gloss tube over my bottom lip, then trace it with my tongue. A tangy chemical they claim as apple tickles my taste buds and I scrunch my face.

A week.

A week has passed since I saw the Fathers son, Caleb. I shiver. Six grueling, painful days have come and gone and, finally, the seventh day is here. Sunday. Its my new favorite day of the week, and not for the reasons it should be. If my parents knew their foremost Holy Day of Obligation has been tainted by my sinful thoughts, Id be locked in my room for the rest of my life.

I disgrace my religion by showing up to Mass only to lust over a man who doesn know I exist. The guilt it stirs doesn go unfelt. I was going to fake sick to get out of today, but I couldn bring myself to do it. I need to see him again. Ive thought about him so much this week that, by Wednesday, his face became obscured in my mind. I haven been able to pleasure myself adequately since. I need to refresh the memory, from the exact shade of his hair to the darkness in his eyes. I have to memorize it.

”Really, Cassia? You
e wearing lip-gloss to church? ”

I snap my attention from my clenched lap to the rearview mirror where Dads judging brown stare flick between me and the road. I frown, confused.

”Its just lip-gloss… ”

He tightens his grip on the steering wheel and I swallow the frustration prickling at me. So, I messed up once? Big deal. Ive only had sex with one person. Its not like I go around whoring myself out to every guy who bats an eyelid in my direction.

Doesn he recall what its like to be young? The raging hormones? The urge to explore yourself and the opposite sex? Science tells us its normal to feel this way, thats its biology, the way we
e wired. Why doesn religion? Why would God give me the ability to feel these things, but forbid me from acting on them?

”Its unnecessary. ” He cuts his eyes at me. ”Unless you
e trying to impress a boy? ”

I roll my eyes and groan, earning a look of warning from Mom. It always comes down to that—a boy. Im nineteen. Boys no longer catch my attention. I need a man.

Lifting my shoulder with a half-hearted shrug, I say, ”maybe Im trying to impress a girl. ”

Mom gasps and turns her attention out the window. A homosexual comment. Oh, the horror! Im not surprised she checks out of the conversation. Once I go toe to toe with Dad, she no longer has an opinion. Hell, she no longer exists, leaving me to defend myself.

Dad lets out a bitter laugh, swiping a frustrated hand over his forehead. Fear burrows in my chest, suffocating me. How far off he is from pulling over and dumping me on the side of the road?

”Are you that far gone, Cassia? You spit these dark, venomous words and challenge your parents constantly. This is not how we raised you! ”

Dropping my stare from his, I slip my lip-gloss into the pocket of my light blue summer dress and grip the small, black Bible on my lap. Fighting him is pointless. What right do I have? I live in his house, and Im his daughter. Like the commandment says: you must honor your father and your mother. Who cares if they
e toxic nutjobs who
e ruining your life, right?

Silence falls in the car and I keep my head down, feeling every sliver of shame he wants me to feel. It hurts. It hurts knowing Im not the daughter they so desperately want me to be. I blink back tears that threaten to spill over the rims of my eyes. Whats wrong with me? Why am I wired differently? Why do I feel these things when its wrong and dirty? How do I stop the feelings from manifesting? The insatiable lust? The impurity? I run my finger along the golden edge of my Bible, patiently waiting for the answer to appear. Like always, it doesn .

Im pulled from my thoughts when the sound of the indicator clicks throughout the car. I lift my eyes and up ahead, the beautiful Caen Limestone Church looms. Its gorgeous, nothing like the modern church we attended in Bismarck. While picturesque and majestic, it also has a sense of Transylvanian darkness about it. The stained-glass windows that queue along the walls of the structure, and the rusty, metal spikes that line the roof pique my curiosity, making me want to explore every inch of the mysterious building.

Less than a mile ahead, the smooth tar road changes to loose gravel, and Dad cautiously steers the car through the parking lot ahead.

Eventually, we roll to a stop, and Mom wastes no time leaping out of the car and into the fresh air. I don blame her. The car reeks of disappointment and disgust. For the same reason, I open my door and slip out into the bright morning sun. The warm breeze blows my hair into my face and strands stick to my lips, but I don swipe it away. Instead, I let it hide my face. I don feel pretty like I did when we left the house this morning. Now I feel…worthless.

I squeeze my Bible in my hand, pressing it firmly against my side. I don usually bring my Bible to Sunday Mass. Theres no need for it, but when I picked it up this morning, Dad smiled and I figured bringing it along would make him happy. God knows it couldn have pissed him off any more than he already was. I also figured itd take me longer to sweat through the leather cover as opposed to the thin program sheet they give the attendees on arrival.

I trail behind Mom and Dad as they make their way toward the stone steps. In the space between my parents, I spot Father Andrews standing at the top offering handshakes, draped in his best vestment.

”Oh, look, ” Mom says to Dad. ”Its nice to see David welcoming everyone inside himself this morning. ”

Dad hums his agreement, and I drop my attention to the gray stones at my feet.

”And Caleb too. ”

My heart leaps into my throat as I misplace my foot and stumble into my parents. The only thing within reach to save me from face planting is Dads jacket. With a squeak, I snatch the hem and clench it in my hands. He swears and glares over his shoulder at me.

”Sorry, ” I utter, releasing his jacket. I clear my throat, a nervous blush spreading to my cheeks, and smooth my clammy palms down the front of my dress. ”I slipped…on a rock. ”

”Pay attention to your footing, Cassia, ” Mom chastises. ”I don want you to injure yourself before church. ”

Sure. Ill just wait until after the service to break my ankle.

”How does Father Andrews have a son anyway? ” I ask. ”I thought priests were like nuns. You know, celibate and all. ”

”Its decided case by case, ” Dad states. ”From what Ive heard, Father Andrews was married first, then converted soon after his daughter was born. His wife and daughter died eleven years ago and, although he was married, he cannot remarry now shes passed on. ” He dismisses me with a wave of his hand. ”There are a lot of technicalities you wouldn understand. ”

Why? Because Im only nineteen? I know things about sex and relationships he couldn even fathom.

”Its none of your business either, ” he adds. ”Worry about yourself, not others. ”

We climb the stairs one by one, closing the distance between me and the man Ive obsessed over since that first Sunday Mass the week after we moved to Maricopa County. Underneath my feet, the stone steps feel like they
e liquefying, making it increasingly hard to stay level. Its as if every cell in my body knows each foot I plant on the hard ground is another closer to him.

Caleb Andrews.

I lower my attention to the stairs, counting them as I go, desperately trying to work up the courage to lift my gaze before we make it to the top.

”Mr. and Mrs. Claire, ” Father Andrews greets them. My heart beats fast. ”Youve met my son Caleb, haven you? ”

”We
e yet to meet, ” Dad replies. ”Hi, Caleb. ”

”Mr. Claire. ”

I resist the urge to drop my head back and use the Lords name in vain. No one, and I mean no one, should have a voice so…so…spine-tingling.

”Please, call me Marcus. ” Dad steps to the side, exposing me to Caleb and Father Andrews.

I drag my gaze to Caleb and my breath halts in my throat. Holy f—mother of green eyes. Caleb rakes his dark, emerald gaze over me, appraising me. My stomach tightens, and I press my thighs together.

”This is my wife, Linda, and my daughter Cassia. ”

I clench my Bible, but it can help me now. Father Andrews extends his hand to me, and I look at it. I like that hes more easygoing than the Father at our old church. Father McGann never touched anyone. He was always snapping, always glaring down his nose at us, as if we weren worthy to be in his church.

Stepping forward, I slip my hand into his. Father Andrews locks his eyes with mine, and it seems hes passed his brilliant green irises on to his son. ”Its nice to finally meet on a personal level, Cassia. ”

I fake a smile. ”It is. ”

Through parted lips, I inhale and its shaky, sounding like an earthquake in my ears. I pull out of the Fathers grasp and avert my attention across the yard, unable to meet Calebs stare. I know its on me. I can feel it heating me all over, wanting to peel me from my dress.

Dad plants his hand on my shoulder and Im thankful for it. It lessens the chance of me fainting and rolling backward down the steps.

As Dad engages Father Andrews again, I sweep my gaze to Calebs face. Amusement paints his lips as he flickers his attention over Dads protective hand. In the deep depths of his brilliant green eyes, I see Hell flare. Then, our gazes lock and it punches the air from my lungs.

”Hi, Cassia. ”

Ive imagined my name falling from Calebs full lips more times than any psychiatrist would consider healthy, but it doesn compare to the real thing.

”Hello, ” I say, my voice quiet and meek.

Tilting his head, he studies me. Every time his eyes flick over my chest, I curl my toes in my shoes against the urge to inch toward him. Can my parents feel it too? The way his hard body radiates such arresting sexuality? Its like hes an industrial magnet and Im a tiny piece of scrap metal.

Under his appraisal, I feel innocent and inexperienced. Have all the girls hes been with felt the same? From a distance he makes me feel wild. He makes me feel like every bit of the sexual woman I am, but up close…well…I feel like a virgin like he can tear me apart any second.

Heat pools in my cheeks, a furious blush that makes his irises flash wickedly, and if my parents notice, its off to Antarctica.