19. Celine #2
I internally groan. That’s a movie my parents forced me to watch when I was younger. “Is it mandatory?”
“No.” Joanna shakes her head and takes a bite of her potatoes. “But if you haven’t seen it yet, I suggest you come. They are going to hand out snacks!”
I steal a glance at Esther, who is slightly shaking her head no. She has nothing to worry about. I wasn’t going to tell Joanna yes anyway.
“I’ll probably pass since I’ve seen it. I have so much to do in the library.”
“I can’t believe you are working in there. Sister Greta is not an easy person to get along with,” Bekah says. “I heard she has scared away multiple girls, and they refuse to set foot back in the library because of it.”
I shrug. “She’s not that bad.”
“Give it a few more days,” Joanna says. “Then you’ll be running out of there. You can always come work in the courtyard with Bekah and me.”
I don’t say anything in response. Instead, I take a bite of my chicken while Joanna and Bekah continue to talk about the movie.
Trying not to make it obvious, I lift my eyes to the table in front of us to look at him again. He is still talking with Father Keaton, but this time, Father Alexander is looking at the man beside him.
As if he can sense me, he turns his head slightly, meeting my gaze. I divert my eyes to Father Keaton, who is not looking at Father Alexander or me, but at the blonde sitting next to me.
This is the second time he has looked at her in this way. When I pivot my head to peek at Joanna, she is holding a tiny smile, and her cheeks are turning a light shade of pink.
What the heck is going on?
I keep eating, but I do continue to watch their interaction. When I see them exchange another smile, I’m positive something is going on between them.
The minute I finish my dinner, I stand, not wanting to stay any longer. I place my plates in the container for dirty dishes and leave the dining hall without another word.
As I walk down the hall, I sense a presence behind me. Sure enough, when I peek over my shoulder, Father Alexander is following me.
“You should really stop stalking me,” I say.
“I’m not stalking you, Celine,” he responds as he catches up to me.
“Then why are you following me?”
“We were both finished with dinner, so I figured we could get started with the prayer early.”
I round the corner, entering the hall where the library is. “Sister Greta is probably still in her office and won’t like that we are bombarding her with our presence so late at night.”
“It’s eight. She is in her room by now.”
I stop walking, turning to face him. “It’s weird that you know that. Are you stalking her, too?”
He rolls his eyes, and my god, why was that so hot? “I’m not stalking anyone.”
“Could have fooled me,” I quip, and walk into the library.
Sure enough, it is silent, and when I walk down the hall to Sister Greta’s office, she isn’t sitting at her desk.
“Why do you want to do nightly prayers in the library?”I spin on my heel to head back to the main room and slam into him.
His hands meet my waist as mine press against his chest to keep me steady. “So no one would interrupt us.”
I’m hyper aware of how he is holding me. His touch is hot, and it feels like it will burn through the fabric of my dress at any second. Dropping my arms, his loosen around me, allowing me to create a distance between us.
“Then why wouldn’t you choose your office?” I ask to break up the tension sizzling in the air.
“Because sometimes Father Keaton works late, and I don’t want to disrupt him.”
I nod slowly and bite my lip at the questions that have been running wild about Father Keaton and Joanna.
His head jerks to the side, and his eyes narrow. “What is it?”
“I just—well, I don’t even know how to say it without sounding crazy.”
“I won’t think you’re crazy,” he reassures me.
“Okay…” I run my hands over my face and groan. “I think something is going on between Father Keaton and Joanna.”
His entire body stiffens, and his eyes grow wide. Great. He thinks I’m insane for accusing them of fornicating.
“What makes you think that?”
“The way they look at each other in the dining hall. I mean, Joanna tries to hide it, but she acts like a girl with a crush.”
“Maybe you read the situation wrong.”
“You mean to tell me I read the situation wrong twice? Tonight wasn’t the first time that I saw the weird connection between them.”
“When was the other time?” he asks.
“I don’t know? A few nights ago, I think.”
He runs a hand across his mouth and starts pacing. His reaction is odd. Not one I was expecting, as I suggested a priest is sleeping with a woman in the convent.
“Do you know something I don’t?”
He stops moving and looks at me. “No.”
His lip twitches, and I gasp. “You’re lying!”
“Celine…” he gives me an authoritative warning.
“Lying is a sin, Father.” I tease. “Tell me what you know.”
“I can’t.” He begins his pacing again.
I throw my head back with a sigh. “Come on, Alex. Tell me.”
At the sound of his name, he stops his pacing and saunters towards me. I take a step back, hitting the small island with built-in shelves in the center of the room.
When he is an inch away from me, he asks, “What did I tell you about my name?”
“To not use it.” I swallow hard, my neck craning to look up at him.
“Then why did you?” His tone harsh, making goosebumps form on my skin.
“It slipped out,” I whisper.
He clenches his teeth, inhaling a deep breath. “If I tell you what I know, you can’t go running your mouth to everyone. Especially not to Esther.”
“If you’re worried about me telling everyone, why even debate about telling me in the first place?”
“Because being the only one that knows is eating me alive.” He has an intense, pressurized tremor in his voice, making it clear that the weight of this secret is suffocating him. That if he doesn’t get it off his chest soon, he is likely to combust.
“Tell me,” I beg.
Father Alexander backs away, combing his hands through his hair.
“The other night, I was… walking around to clear my head when I remembered I needed to grab something from my office. It was about midnight, and I saw that Father Keaton’s office light was on.
The man works late, but never that late.
I went to knock on his door to see if he was okay, and that’s when I heard moans. ”
“Moans?” I don’t know why I ask. I know what he means.
“I thought he was just watching porn.” That word coming out of his mouth makes me giggle. “What’s so funny?”
“Hearing a priest say the word porn.” I lift my hand to my mouth, smothering the sound of my laughter.
“Celine, please.” It’s another warning, this time to let him finish.
I drop my hand and put on a serious face. “Go on.”
“As I said, I thought he was watching porn.” He eyes me, making sure I don’t laugh again, which I don’t. “But then I heard Joanna’s voice and realized what was happening.”
“So they’re fucking each other,” I say in wonder.
Father Alexander winces at my words. “Could you not say it like that?”
“Oh, sorry.” I roll my eyes. “They are having sexual relations with each other. Was that better, Mister Prude?”
“I’m not a prude,” he scoffs.
“Really? You just got offended that I used the word ‘fucking.’ If that doesn’t scream prude, then I don’t know what does.”
He rolls his jaw, and his expression darkens as he cages me between him and the counter. Raising his hand to cup my cheek, the warmth of his touch sends a chill down my spine. He gets awfully close to my mouth, making me think he is going to finally close the distance, but he doesn’t.
His lips hover over mine, and he whispers, “If you knew me before all of this, you would know how wrong you are, little sin.”
My eyes dart down to his mouth as I telepathically beg for him to move an inch closer. This is wrong in so many ways, but I want to see how his lips would feel against mine.
“Prove it,” I whisper back.
The hold he has on my face tightens, eyes dancing between mine before he drops his gaze to my mouth. As much as I want him to give in, I don’t move.
He has to want it.
His thumb caresses my cheek, and he uses it to nudge my chin up. That’s when I see it in his eyes. He is torn over whether to close the gap. He is fighting a war in his head, and when he steps away, I know he has made up his mind.
“I can’t.” The two words shouldn’t hurt, but they do.
I finally let out a shaky breath and watch him leave the library without another word and without saying our nightly prayer.