Lust: Chapter 8

I have a new plan for today.

Mariana’s confession that I was rude to her weighed on my conscience. I can’t inadvertently punish her for something she’s not even intending to do. My lust is my responsibility.

It’s not her fault she has those dancing eyes and that mischievous smile. It’s not her fault she has those delicate curves I can’t keep my eyes from roaming. I’m being selfish keeping her locked away at the back of the church just because I can’t keep my horny thoughts in check.

Before I went to bed last night, I prayed that God would help me get through this month of being constantly around Mariana. This morning, I woke up with a message from God.

You were meant to do this.

From the moment the words echoed in my heart, I knew what they meant. Hector’s request for me to talk to Mariana wasn’t a fluke. Right now, she needs me. I felt it yesterday when she talked about growing up questioning God in a family of devout Christians. It wasn’t a coincidence that she told me specifically.

I’m her pastor, even if she doesn’t believe. I’m the one called by God to help her. For the first time, I truly believe I can.

I’ll show her that she’s perfect just the way she is. If God wanted her to believe, he would have called her. There wouldn’t be so many beliefs in the world if God expected us all to be of one mind.

I can minister to her in a way that respects her lack of faith.

Ministering to her will help me as well. Our spiritual connection will transcend the lust I feel. Even if twinges of it remain, my heart will be too full of compassion for them to trouble me.

There’s a soft knock before Mariana’s lovely face appears in my office doorway. I’m not even bothered by the fact that I want to bite that full bottom lip of hers. I’m human, and I can’t control my thoughts, but I don’t have to let them rule me.

“Harper is at lunch, so I’m filling in for her,” she says. “Nolan and his mom are here.”

I nod. “Ask his mom if she wouldn’t mind waiting in the lobby or the prayer room. I’d prefer to speak to Nolan alone.”

She nods and disappears. Shortly after, she guides Nolan into my office. He holds a slight smirk, and my shoulders tense.

Jesus, help me. I know he’s just a kid, and at one time, I had a cocky attitude just like his.

Maybe that’s why he annoys me so much.

“Can I get you coffee, Nolan?” Mariana asks.

He grins at her. “Can you put some tequila in it?”

“I don’t know.” Mariana turns to me with a questioning frown. “Are we allowed to give minors alcohol, Pastor?”

Warmth seeps through my veins, and I’m relieved anew at my change of heart. She’s exactly where she’s supposed to be. I shouldn’t be wishing her away because of my own human frailty.

I smile. “I’m afraid not.”

She winces dramatically. “Sorry, Nolan. Only plain coffee for you. But I can load it up with lots of French vanilla creamer.”

Nolan smiles at her, but this time, his eyes are much warmer.

Damn. She’s good at this, but why am I surprised? She has that playful personality—the ability to put people at ease by just being herself.

As soon as Mariana leaves the room, the spell is broken, and Nolan’s cocky smile returns.

I inhale deeply. “So your mom tells me you’ve been getting into a lot of arguments with her and your dad lately. Do you want to talk about it?”

That smirk doesn’t waver. “Nope.”

I sigh. “I’m not going to force you to talk, but your mom took the time to set up this appointment and bring you here. We have to fill the next forty-five minutes somehow.”

He cocks a brow, and my jaw clenches. God help me with this kid. I don’t want to talk any more than he does.

“I think your tattoo is stupid,” he says, looking at the purple and gold abomination on my left biceps.

I force a smile. “When I was your age, I thought I’d play for the Lakers.”

Nolan snorts. “You’re like six foot nothing.”

“We’re not always wise when we’re young.”

“Oh my God.” Nolan runs his fingers through the long strands of his blond hair. “I can’t. I seriously just can’t right now. You’re the last person I want to talk to. I don’t even believe in God.”

I grit my teeth. This is going to be difficult.

A moment later, a soft knock reverberates on the door, and Mariana enters with a paper coffee cup in one hand. She smiles at Nolan. “I put five creamers in here. Your coffee is practically white.”

Just like before, Nolan’s whole expression softens, and an idea sprouts. Keeping my gaze locked on Nolan, I gesture at Mariana. “She’s an atheist, too.” I grimace when I recall her self-consciousness at church a few days ago. “I hope you don’t mind that I shared that, Mariana.”

She smiles, relieving the tension in my shoulders. “Not at all.” As if reading my mind, she plops down on the couch across from Nolan. “So you’re a heathen too?”

Nolan laughs. “Yep. And proud of it. Organized religion is so stupid. Bunch of sheep.”

Mariana narrows her eyes thoughtfully. “I used to think that too. It made me really mad that no one could prove to me that God was real.”

“Exactly.” Nolan’s eyes light up. “The way they try to prove it’s real is by using scriptures from the Bible. I’m always like, ‘Bro, I don’t believe in the Bible. Show me science.’”

Mariana nods thoughtfully. “I completely agree with you, which is why I stopped asking those questions. They’re never going to be able to give us satisfying answers. And the only reason that makes us mad is because we’re still trying to hold on to our faith.”

Nolan scoffs. “I am not trying to hold on to my faith.”

Mariana lowers her chin. “Then why do you ask those questions?”

“Because my mom and dad force me to go to church.”

“Bring headphones and listen to podcasts during church.”

Nolan rolls his eyes. “They’d never let me do that.”

Mariana shrugs. “Our parents make us do a lot of boring things when we’re teenagers.”

“Yeah, but this is different.”

“How is it different?”

He raises both hands in the air. “It’s fucked up to teach kids if they don’t believe a certain thing, they’re going to hell. And yet almost every single person in my life thinks it’s totally normal. I watch this philosopher guy on YouTube, and he thinks it’s child abuse. Literally.”

Mariana nods slowly. “I probably would have agreed with him years ago, but not anymore. Part of my journey was realizing that my parents are flawed, and they only forced these things on me out of fear. Because they love me so much. And ultimately, it’s not that big of a deal to me—”

“If they really loved you, they’d accept you for who you are.”

Mariana blinks once. She lifts a hand and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, and there’s a sudden spark in her eyes. “Wow, you really got to the heart of it.” Her voice is hushed.

Nolan narrows his eyes. “Yeah. It’s fucked up.”

“It is.” She sighs, sounding so melancholy I want to take her into my arms.

I can’t let this go on any longer. Not when it’s making her sad, and I’m the one who instigated it.

“So where do you want to go from here, Nolan?” I ask to redirect the conversation. “Do you want your parents to give you answers? Do you want me to give you answers, even when you know they probably won’t satisfy you?”

Nolan’s expression is so thoughtful and somber, I can hardly even call to mind that cocky smirk I know was there only minutes ago.

“I guess not,” he says.

“What do you want?”

He shrugs. “I want to quit going to church, and I want my mom and dad to be okay with it.”

“Do you want me to have your mom come in here?”

He’s quiet for a moment. “Yeah, I guess.”

I shoot Mariana a look, and she smiles warmly before standing up. “I’ll go get her.”

Something loosens in my chest. She’s so good at this. I love the way she read my intentions from the moment she walked into this office, like there’s an invisible connection between us.

This is a sign.

We already have some kind of spiritual connection I can’t quite articulate. Something I felt from my first real conversation with her.

This is why God called me to help her. My lust is a distraction, sure, but not one I can’t overcome.