Chapter 6
“Oh, Olivia. I’ve been looking all over for you,” says Sister Jessie.
Truth be told, I’ve been hiding all morning.
I woke up in bed with no recollection of how I got there. I blacked out again and assumed Jupiter had gotten me home safely. She’s done this for me before.
I was up early, so I showered and decided to keep busy and tend to the paperwork Mother Superior had asked me to organize two weeks ago.
The distraction has been welcomed.
“What can I do for you, Sister?” I ask, blowing a stray strand of hair from my brow.
“Father Justin’s car broke down, and you know how much he loves that thing.
He was able to get ahold of a mechanic who has offered to come by and look at it.
And he’s here now. I would go, but I have a class to teach.
Do you think you could meet him out there and relay the information back to Father Justin when he returns from Mass? ”
“Of course. These files aren’t going anywhere.”
Sister Jessie looks at me with an “I don’t envy you” look.
But truth be told, it’s nice to keep my mind occupied with anything other than last night.
Not only has Smokes been playing on my mind, but Kit as well. He looks just as I remember, only older and hotter. Now that I’m looking at him through the eyes of a woman, I see things a young girl doesn’t.
I like what I see—a lot.
But seeing him brought back memories of Dandy. Not a day passes that I don’t think about him. Even though we were childhood friends, I know that we would be friends now. That sort of friendship is forever.
But I’ll never know because I’ll never see Kit again. The thought has me frowning.
I follow Sister Jessie through the orphanage, and when we reach the back glass door that leads to the rectory, she smiles. “Thank you for doing this, Liv. We’d be lost without you.”
It’s nice to hear.
Sister Jessie quickly walks toward her classroom while I use my swipe card to unlock the door. I hear “Sweet Home Alabama” playing softly. I round the corner and am about to announce my arrival, but when I see who’s under the hood of the car, I stop dead in my tracks and dare not make a sound.
Although the man’s face is hidden by the hood, his hand—adorned with silver chunky rings on long fingers and a skull tattoo on the back of his right hand—grips the engine bay.
I freeze, doubting what I see. But when the man leans over and reveals a familiar head of that messy brown hair, I quietly step back and return inside.
I press my back against the wall and take two deep breaths.
What’s going on?
Why is Kit here?
And why have I seen him twice in two days?
I can handle that later, though, because I have more pressing issues to deal with—like figuring out how to see him without being recognized.
It’s been three years since I last saw him. I think I’ve changed enough, but perhaps bear a slight resemblance to the girl he once knew.
But his comment at the club has me deciding not to take any chances.
I need a disguise, and I need one fast.
It’s a sign from God, I tell myself, as I rush into the laundry room and see clean habits hanging from the silver railing. I quickly put one on.
“I’m going to hell anyway,” I say to my reflection in the mirror as I affix the veil in place.
I don’t have time to be fickle and dart back out into the hallway, ensuring to remain unseen as I’m pretty sure pretending to be someone holy breaks about twenty rules. I swipe my card over the reader and take a deep breath.
A country song plays softly over the radio.
Kit is still under the hood, tinkering away with some tools. I stand off to the side and wait for him to notice me. I don’t announce myself because I’m hoping to get through this with minimal to no talking.
I watch him unguarded, taking my time to familiarize myself with the boy I once knew. Although Kit was never a boy, he now reeks of pure alpha energy.
He’s roughly twenty-five.
When I was younger, I never gave much thought to adult Kit, but here I am, staring at how hot his ass looks in those ripped blue jeans. Or how both arms—now covered in tattoos—are muscled and appear as if they were carved from granite.
He bends down to reach into the toolbox, and who knew, I’m a fan of a man with some hair on his chest.
Two buttons on his shirt have popped open, revealing a glimpse of his toned chest and neck, covered in ink.
A slender silver chain hangs around his throat, accentuating the width of his shoulders.
He’s tall, inked, pierced, muscled, and gives off the most alphahole vibes.
It’s suffocating, but who needs air when Kit’s eyes meet mine?
“Oh, sorry, Sister!” I don’t understand what he’s apologizing for.
When he turns off the Bluetooth speaker, cutting the music, I realize he thinks I’m staring at him, angered that he’s playing music.
I can’t construct a sentence and continue gawking, which has Kit peering down at his shirt and quickly doing up the remaining buttons. He believes his music and his partial nudity offend me.
If only he knew what I hide beneath this habit.
The sunlight seems to highlight the blond strands in his hair. It’s shorter than I remember. I like it. It complements his chiseled face. I didn’t realize how sharp his jaw was. Or how gorgeous he was.
Now that I’m older, I see why he was described as having an angelic face—he truly is beautiful. But he hides something dark behind those eyes that wasn’t there before. It seems we’ve both changed.
I can’t believe Kit Rivers is here.
Instantly, a sadness weighs heavily on me. All I want to ask is how Dandy is doing. That reminds me that it can never happen because Kit can never know who I am.
“I won’t be much longer.”
I simply nod.
Kit doesn’t make it a secret that he’s examining me closely. It’s evident he is trying to place me and where he knows me from.
I clear my throat and fold my arms across my chest.
Kit remembers he’s ogling a “sister” and quickly goes back to work.
Without the music, the silence is deafening.
After about five minutes, Kit reemerges from under the hood.
He looks at me.
I swallow past the lump in my throat.
“Can you help me out for a second?”
“I-I’m not very good with cars.” Going anywhere near Kit is a very bad idea.
But he makes clear this isn’t up for negotiation when he tosses me the car keys. “I just need you to start it.”
“Why can’t you do that?”
“Because I need to be under here when it starts.” He pats the top of the hood with a smirk.
I look ridiculous, not to mention suspicious, standing here, so I walk over to the car, ensuring not to meet Kit’s eyes as I get into the car. The hood is up, which obscures my line of sight, but being this close to him has me on the verge of a panic attack.
I’ve never experienced this before. But to be honest, I have steered clear of men since I left the old me behind.
“Start her up,” Kit calls, pulling me from my thoughts.
I put the key into the ignition and gently give it some gas. It turns over like it wants to start but doesn’t. Kit takes a step back, peering into the engine bay as if trying to decode what’s wrong.
I can see him through the small visible sliver in the windshield. He runs his fingers through his hair, tousling it further.
He bends and retrieves something from the toolbox. He tinkers under the hood for a few minutes before he asks me to start the car again.
I do as he asks, and it has a little more momentum.
“Give it more gas.”
I tap my foot on the pedal, and it eventually splutters to life.
I’m about to get out of the car, but shrink back into my seat when Kit stands in the door, his hand above the frame.
He isn’t trying to be intimidating or box me in, but he knows that I was two seconds away from bolting back into the orphanage.
“I don’t mean to overstep, but what’s your name?” He has a silver ring in each nostril. If possible, it makes him even hotter.
I need to focus, however, and forget his prominent Adam’s apple. I wonder what it would feel like under my tongue.
Giving him a name other than my real one feels wrong.
But it’s just a name, right?
“I’m sorry to be so forward, but you look familiar. I can’t place where, though. Did you grow up around here?”
The urge to dig my fingernails into my palms is overbearing, but I keep my cool. “Not really, no. But here is my home now. If you’ll excuse me…”
I attempt to get out, but he doesn’t budge. “I’d like to offer my services.”
“For?” I question, confused.
“To help around the orphanage. For free, of course,” he adds when I stare at him dumbfounded.
“Do you live here—” I have to stop myself from saying “now” because that would give away the fact that I know he isn’t a local.
“No, I live in Hollow Banks. A small town, hours away from here. But I’m here to help my boss. His shop here isn’t doing well, and he asked me to take over and hopefully stop it from going under. And besides, I needed to get away.”
Needed to get away?
Why?
This cannot be happening.
“Well, that’s really kind of you. I’ll pass your offer on to the—”
“Oh, you got her started!” says Father Justin, interrupting a moment which has set me on fire.
Kit spins to face Father Justin, while I sneak out behind him and shrink into my habit, wishing to conceal myself from the world.
Thankfully, I escape Father Justin’s detection, because if he caught me wearing a habit, I’m certain questions would be asked.
But escaping Kit?
I’m snared in his trap, and this time, I don’t think there’s an escape.