“And nothing I can say will change it,” the priest
continued.
Alex shook his head. “He doesn’t need someone like me. He needs
someone who can look at him without wondering what he tastes like,
or smells like, or feels like in my arms. You said he needed
someone to show him there was more to life than sex, right? And
I’ve tried but God, I just can’t. I haven’t touched him, I swear
it, but I’m afraid I can’t hold out much longer.”
“I meant the clubs,” Father Nate said gently. “I meant the
casual sex, Alex, not something born of love, not with someone who
cares—”
“I can’t,” Alex said stubbornly. “Jesus, can’t you see? I
can’t do it, Nate. I just can’t.”
He waited, sure the priest would argue with him. Part of him
wanted to hear those arguments, wanted them to wear through his own
reasoning and crush his defenses and prove to him that it was okay
to love Jamie, it was right and it would work out, all of it would,