Lessons in Sin - Pam Godwin Page 0,57

doing was focusing on her actual family and keeping us all together.

I was so grateful to see Viv and Perry. They’d taken me to a charming bed-and-breakfast a few towns over. We had a quiet weekend together, and best of all, it got me away from the dark, addictive presence that haunted me at Sion Academy.

“That’s wonderful to hear.” Crisanto paused when we reached the privacy of the hallway. “How is everything going with Father Magnus?”

“May I cut straight to the point?”

“He said you were direct.” He grinned.

“To a fault, I think.” I tilted my head. “He confesses to you? Every day?”

“Yes.”

“And you want to know if he’s confessing everything? Or if there are things happening that he’s not telling you? Is that what this is?”

“No, Tinsley. I trust him, perhaps more than he trusts himself. I hear his confessions, and I know he’s fighting a force inside himself. He’s constantly at war with it. But he’s stronger than his demons.”

Guilt pinched my insides. “I haven’t made it any easier on him.”

“That’s not—”

“At the beginning of the year, I was on a straight path through hell and was willing to take him down with me. I don’t know what I’m doing anymore, but I can promise this. I care about him. I’m not going to hurt him. I’m not going to let my family hurt him.”

“And if he hurts you? Or angers you? What if you decide you want a relationship that he’s unable to give? Will you go to your family then?”

“No. Absolutely not. Look, I know you’re his best friend, and you’re talking to me in that capacity, looking out for him. But I’m not a threat to him.”

Magnus had told me he confessed to Crisanto regularly. I was about to test the legitimacy of that.

“He kissed me a month ago. I kissed him back.” I watched for surprise in the Filipino priest’s eyes and found none. “Since then, he’s put his hands beneath my skirt, over my underwear four times, and I welcomed it. I wanted more.”

After the day he trapped me against the door and buried his nose between my legs, he’d done the same thing three more times. His fingers never breached the crotch of my underwear. He never exposed himself, and he never touched my breasts or pussy—under or over my clothes. Much to my despair.

He was fighting this thing between us and winning. I did my part by not encouraging it.

I hated the resistance. It made me restless and crazy. The unanswered sexual tension between us was so heavy and unwieldy it drove me out of my skin. But like I’d told him, I didn’t want him to resent me when all this was over.

“You’re his student,” Crisanto said quietly.

“And he’s a priest. That’s why our attraction hasn’t moved past that kiss. But if it ever does, remember this.” I smoothed my hands down my dress and stood taller. “I’m a legal adult. What he and I do together is between him and me. I know he’s not a gentle man, and I love that about him. He won’t hurt me. Not without my permission. I believe the word that might give you peace is consensual. That’s all it will ever be with us.”

“You’re…” He set a fist to his mouth and cleared his throat. “You’re a very smart, mature young lady.”

“I’m learning, and believe it or not, he’s helping me with that.”

“He’s a good teacher.” He smiled thoughtfully. “I think you’re helping him with that, too.”

“Do you feel better about our relationship?”

“I feel like an accomplice to something that hasn’t happened.”

Yet.

I heard the unspoken word. He didn’t believe we would leave it at a kiss. Maybe he was right. But it wasn’t for him to worry about.

I’d spent the past three months vacillating between hating the priest and craving the man, and through it all, my sexual attraction hadn’t wavered. Every day with him grew harder, tenser, more strained. At the same time, I cherished every moment we spent together.

“I won’t steal any more of your time.” Crisanto gestured for me to head back toward the gym. “If you ever need to talk, I’m here.”

“Thank you.”

“Go on.” His easy smile returned. “Have a great time.”

With the hope to do just that, I pushed back my shoulders and strode to the gymnasium.

The Winter Formal was the most anticipated event of the year. Every student at Sion Academy and St. John de Brebeuf lived for this dance. The basketball courts had been converted into