best friend is in love with,” he said. “Thing was, I knew you’d never admit to your feelings without me shocking it out of you.”
Silence. Dee studied the shifting sands of Marc’s expression. All the expected emotions came in their sequence: incredulity, denial, shock, then …
“Fuck!” Marc suddenly burst out as his foot made contact with the fridge. “What the hell am I doing? Look at me! I can’t even leave the house, I’m so scared of what I’ll do. Every time I’ve stepped out for the last two days, I’m halfway to her place before I even realize where I’m heading. I’m like some sort of screwed-up homing pigeon.” He clutched his hair. “I know what will happen, Dee. I know that if I make it there, and she feels the slightest bit the way I do…”
“You can’t sleep with Riona, Marc,” the master-of-the-obvious declared.
Marc limped to the sofa and collapsed. “Fuck, you think I don’t know that?” he shot back. “You think that painfully obvious fact hasn’t crossed my mind?”
Two hands in the air signaled a truce. “Take it easy. I just wanted to be sure we’re coming from the same place.”
Marc rolled his eyes. “Yeah, not from inside Riona.”
It wasn’t that the priest wasn’t above cracking the occasional sexually-themed joke. Dee had learned long ago to release his preconceptions about modesty and propriety where this man of God was concerned. But even this snide declaration hit him as a bit obtuse.
“So you’ve thought about it then?”
Marc’s hand slicked over his scalp. Dee really, really hoped the priest was planning on washing those hands before he touched anything.
“Thought about it, fantasized about it, dreamt about it. Never with intention. I think a lot about flying to the Caribbean on vacation too, but I ain’t never booked flights.”
“Yeah, but a trip down Jamaica way doesn’t end with you burning in Hell, or worse, managing its HR department.” Dee couldn’t let it go. He walked to the sink, grabbed a handful of paper towels from a rack mounted under the cabinets, and ran them under the tap turned all the way to H. “And Riona’s departure gates are a little more lax in their security, if you get my drift. We can’t let this go on. I refuse to see you damned while I still suck air.”
“You assume she’d be willing,” Marc said sarcastically as Dee played doting mother and dotted at his palms.
“Oh, believe me, when I suggested to her the reason you skedaddled was because Hermosa pricked your guilt about your feelings for her, the look on her face was anything but disgusted.”
“Really?” The priest’s face filled with light. “You think she’d really…. Wait, what am I saying?”
The demigod took Marc’s chin in the pinch of his fingers. “Look, bud. There’s nothing wrong with loving her, just as long as you don’t do anything with her. You… You do love her, right?”
The question hung in the air, until Marc’s face screwed up and his fist put a dent in the freezer door to match the one his foot had left below a few minutes before. “Fuck! Yes, but what’s the use? I know everyone’s into open relationships these days, but I don’t think she’s willing to share me with the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Shit, how could I let this happen? How could I fall in love with someone? What kind of sick fuck am I?”
“The kind that loves every good soul more than he loves himself.” Dee walked Marc back to the sitting area and lowered him to the couch. “Look, I didn’t come over to lecture you. The gods know my history of fucked-up relationships and shortcomings could inspire a whole line of self-help books. But I can’t stand by and watch my best friend throw away his mortal soul and become my enemy because he lets temptation get a hold of him. Even if it’s because of his love for a woman as worthy as Riona. Just promise, Marc. Promise me you’re going to keep your shit together and not fuck this up.”
“Doin’ my best, Dee.” Marc’s eyes trained on the floor. “Doin’ my best.”
Chapter 15
w Both seemed to have a similar effect on the witch; Riona was wetter than rain and just as ready to fall down to the ground. Lucy kissed like a sinner, and moved her tongue like a snake charmer was directing it with his flute.
“Your place or mine?” the black-haired vixen asked with a devious smile as she back-stepped