Lust: Chapter 7

With one hand on the steering wheel, I use the other to knead my shoulders, sending tingles down my spine. God, what a day.

I don’t need to tell Sofia about how curt Brandon was with me all day—that he seems to think I’m just as irresponsible as the rest of my family does. She certainly doesn’t need to know about the ottoman incident.

I’ll have to think of something good to tell her. He did assign me an important organizing task, though I had to practically beg him to let me do it. But it allowed me to browse through all kinds of Biblical history books, which will probably sound impressive to her.

As I walk into our apartment, the scent of warm cookies hits my nose. A smile tugs at my lips. Baking was our thing growing up. Something just Sofia and I shared. My mom was too precious about her culinary processes to let me participate in cooking or baking, but Sofia always did, from the moment she was old enough to do it herself.

There’s a skip in my step as I walk through the living room, but as soon as I enter the kitchen, my stomach plummets.

Sofia and her best friend, Danielle, are both smiling over a bowl of batter. Dani pours a bag of chocolate chips while Sofia stirs. They make such a pretty picture.

You’ve been replaced, Mari.

What a childish thought, yet I can’t reason this ache in my chest away. Sofia was mine. My big sister. She used to go out of her way to arrange girls’ nights for just the two of us, with cookie baking and Netflix binges.

Until Finn came into the picture. I didn’t like him, and that meant Sofia pushed me into the periphery of her life.

When I set my work bag on a kitchen chair and walk to the counter, Sofia’s smile falters, but I don’t let it deter me. “Hey, Dani,” I say.

“How was your first day?” Sofia asks without looking my way.

“Great,” I say, infusing cheerfulness into my voice.

“How was Brandon?”

“Grumpy.” I find myself unable to muster the energy to do a song and dance for her. She might as well just hear the truth.

Sofia frowns as she scoops a ball of dough from the bowl. “I can’t imagine him grumpy. Maybe a little stern…but not grumpy.”

“He can’t be grumpy with you,” I say. “He’s dating you.”

“Courting,” Sofia corrects.

Dani giggles. “I still can’t believe it. Pastor Brandon is courting you. I mean, I know he’s like…part of your family, almost. But to me, he’s like a celebrity.”

Sofia smiles to herself, and I strain my face to keep my eyes from rolling. I’m as vain as the next person, so I shouldn’t fault her for loving the attention her situation with Brandon gives her.

But I know where that smile comes from, and it’s not Brandon.

“I know it’s not Christlike to say this…” Dani’s expression grows prim. “But Finn is going to lose his mind when he finds out, if he hasn’t already.”

I let out a breathless laugh, unable to help myself. Dani must have read my mind.

If Sofia noticed my laughter, she doesn’t show it. Her triumphant smile grows. “Brandon and I get coffee right by Finn’s work. He’s probably seen us.”

“Can you imagine?” Dani’s tone is giddy. “He’s probably…”

I force myself to retreat into my head as I march out of the kitchen and into my room. I can’t listen anymore.

Under any other circumstances, I would only be mildly irritated with Sofia for her pettiness.

Now, it’s like a tight fist is clenching around my heart.

She doesn’t even care about my feelings anymore. She doesn’t care that the distance between us hurts so much it’s hard to take a breath sometimes. The Sofia who gave me the honor of running the hand mixer even though I splashed the cookie dough all over the counter never would have let a man come between us, especially when I did nothing wrong other than dislike him. I was her baby sister, and she adored me.

Or so I thought.

“Mari, before we start our hunt, you have to tell us all about your first day working for Pastor Brandon,” Vanessa says as we walk into the bridal boutique.

Livvy’s eyes spark. “I think she has something juicy to tell us. I see it on her face.”

I repress a smile. “Juicy? About my sister’s boyfriend?”

Livvy rolls her eyes. “We both know that’s not a real thing.”

“Tell that to my family,” I say.

Vanessa shakes her head. “I can’t believe they want him with Sofia when he’s constantly flirting with you.”

I wave a hand. “I’m the one who flirts with him. What you think is flirting on his part is just him getting annoyed with me.” A smile rises to my lips when his stern face flashes in my mind.

“Watch it, young lady.”

What would he think if he knew how much it turned me on when he teased me yesterday?

“I actually do have one juicy thing to tell you,” I say, “and it’s so epically embarrassing, you’ll probably think I’m making it up.”

“What?” Vanessa and Livvy ask in unison.

I pretend to examine the fabric of a satin dress I know Livvy would hate, my cheeks warming at the memory of Brandon’s huge arms around me. “I may or may not have fallen off an ottoman when I was trying to put a book on a high shelf.” I pause for effect. “And Pastor Brandon may or may not have caught me.”

Vanessa’s mouth drops open. “How did that happen?”

I roll my eyes at my own stupidity. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I was too embarrassed to ask Brandon for a stepladder.”

Livvy’s expression is incredulous. “You’re never embarrassed.”

I shrug. “I could tell he was annoyed with me for asking too many questions.”

Vanessa’s brows shoot up. “That doesn’t sound like the Pastor Brandon I know. Especially not with you.”

I roll my eyes dramatically, trying to ignore the fluttering in my stomach at her insinuation. Even if he were as horny for me as I am for him, what difference would it make?

He’s celibate, damn it. He’s not going to have sex with anyone but his future wife.

A tragedy, really.

I pull at the hem of a lacey blue dress to give me a better view of it. “He said he was just stressed out.”

“Maybe he was stressed out because you got him all worked up,” Livvy says. “And he had no way to release the…tension, if you know what I mean.”

I giggle, but my laughter quickly fades when a sparkle at the corner of the shop draws my attention. Electricity skates across my skin when I get a full view of the mermaid dress.

I can see Livvy in that dress. On a beach at sunset. With Cole smiling down at her with adoring eyes.

“Livvy,” I mutter. “I think I might have found the dress. And I do mean the dress.”

She frowns, her eyes following my gaze. “You mean my dress?”

“Yes.”

“No, no. I can’t look at wedding dresses. My mom would murder me. Ness and I promised her today would only be bridesmaid shopping.”

Despite her denial, we all make our way over to the dress as if drawn to it by an invisible force. As we get closer, the sunlight sparkles over the delicate beading.

“Ness, what do you think?” I ask.

“Oh, Livvy,” she says in a hushed voice. “You have to try it on.”

I shoot Livvy a stern look. “The shape of it is perfect for your curves.”

She bites her lip. “I can’t try it on. I’ll just take a picture of it for next time.”

“No.” Vanessa’s eyes twinkle with mischief. She walks over to the dress and pulls it off the rack. “You’re trying it on today. We won’t tell Mom. We’ll stage something with her if we have to.”

Livvy groans. “That’s so deceitful, Ness.”

I purse my lips to hide my smile. Sometimes my bestie is so earnestly sweet I want to laugh.

“We’ve been dress shopping with her at least five times already,” Vanessa says. “It’s her fault you haven’t found anything you love yet. She’s too critical, and she gets into your head.”

“And if it’s not here the next time you look for dresses?” I ask. “You’ll always wonder.”

Livvy’s eyes widen minutely, and I know I’ve won. Vanessa shoots me a sly smile, and a moment later, we’re standing in the large dressing room helping Livvy into the dress. After I’ve hooked the last button, Livvy turns around, and both Vanessa and I gasp.

“Oh, Livvy,” Vanessa says.

“This is the one,” I mutter, my throat growing tight.

How is it possible that my childhood best friend is going to be a wife in two months?

“Oh, wow.” Livvy’s voice is just above a whisper as she stares at herself in the mirror, her big doe eyes roving up and down the dress. “Am I cheesy for wanting to cry?”

“Are you kidding me?” My voice is shaky. “I’m already crying.”

“Me too,” Vanessa squeaks. She rushes to her sister and wraps her arms around her. “I can’t believe you’re getting married, and you’re going to have babies soon.”

Livvy giggles even as a tear falls down her cheek. “It’s surreal, huh? Like I’m only pretending. Like when we made veils out of paper when we were little. Remember that, Mari?”

My throat grows tight. “Yes,” I say, but that’s not the memory playing in my mind.

I’m pulled back in time. I see a beautiful face hovering over me while I sit on the hard lid of the toilet. As her deft fingers move, featherlight strokes brush over my eyelids.

“Who are you going to marry today?” Sofia asks.

“Papi,” I answer, and her laughter drifts through me like music.

Is that how it really happened, or has the memory grown warmer and softer over the years, as if it were touched by gentle morning sunlight? Loss seems to do that to memory.

The Sofia from that day is gone. That version of me is gone, too.

They’ll never come back.