CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 5

EZRA

The air outside the church felt sharp against my skin. Like it wanted to slap me awake.

Lily walked beside me, her bag swinging against her hip. She was still talking about Father Nico and how creepy he’d been, but my brain was… well, not listening. Because every time I blinked, all I saw were Father Dorian’s lips. And the memory of mine crashing against them.

God, I was going to hell. Straight ticket. No stopover.

“Ezra, you’re zoning out again.” Lily bumped my shoulder. “You okay?”

I forced a smile. “Totally. Just… you know. Processing how my life ended in a church storage room.”

“You kissed him, not killed him.” She gave me a look. “Big difference.”

“Lily, he’s a priest.”

“Yeah. And you’re a college student. You’re allowed to make mistakes.”

“Not priest-kissing mistakes!”

She snorted. “Fine. It was bad. But stressing about it won’t change anything.”

I groaned, pulling my hood over my head. “Can we not talk about this? I need a distraction.”

And apparently, the universe heard me.

Because right then, someone called, “Lily?”

We both turned.

A girl walked toward us, backpack slung over one shoulder, sneakers scuffed, shirt rolled at the sleeves. Her hair was cropped short, jawline sharp enough to cut glass. She had the swagger of someone who never asked permission for anything.

Her name dropped from Lily’s lips like she hadn’t expected it. “Jordan?”

“Hey,” Jordan said, smiling. She glanced at me briefly, then her eyes landed right back on Lily. And stayed there.

Interesting.

Lily tried to act casual, but I saw the way her cheeks turned pink. “What are you doing here?”

“School let out late,” Jordan said. “I was passing by. Thought I’d say hi.”

Lily blinked. “Oh.”

I coughed into my sleeve. Loudly.

Lily shot me a death glare. I widened my eyes innocently.

Jordan smirked, clearly noticing. “So. How’s school? You ready for that presentation tomorrow?”

Lily nodded too quickly. “Yeah. I, uh, stayed up late working on it.”

“Of course you did.” Jordan grinned, teasing. “Classic Lily.”

I bit my lip, trying not to laugh. Oh, this was gold.

Jordan shifted her backpack. “Anyway. I’ll see you both at school tomorrow.”

“Yeah, see you,” Lily said, voice soft in a way I’d never heard before.

Jordan waved, gave one last grin, then walked off down the street, sneakers crunching against the pavement.

The second she was out of earshot, I turned to Lily with the slowest smile I could manage.

“Don’t.” She pointed a warning finger at me.

I raised my brows. “Don’t what?”

“Ezra, I swear—”

“You like her.”

Her mouth dropped. “No, I don’t.”

“You do. You were blushing so hard I thought you’d combust.”

“I was not!”

“You so were.”

She smacked my arm. “Shut up.”

I clutched my arm dramatically. “Ow. Abuse. In front of the Lord.”

“Good. Maybe He’ll forgive me for putting up with you.”

I laughed. “So you admit it.”

She crossed her arms. “There’s nothing to admit.”

“Oh my God. Lily and Jordan. Sitting in a tree—”

“Ezra!” She shoved me this time. “You’re such a child.”

I grinned. “You’re deflecting.”

“You’re annoying.”

“And you’re blushing.”

Her cheeks flared again, which only proved my point.

“Okay, I’m leaving before I actually kill you,” she muttered, spinning on her heel.

“Bye, future Mrs. Jordan!” I called after her.

She didn’t even look back. Just flipped me off with one hand in the air.

I laughed until my chest hurt.

Then the laughter faded.

And the silence came back.

I stopped walking. Looked up at the sky, dark blue with patches of stars.

What was I doing with my life? Teasing Lily was fun, sure. But underneath it, my stomach still twisted. My lips still burned with the memory of Father Dorian.

I kissed him.

And he hadn’t kissed back.

He froze. And then he left.

I rubbed my hands over my face, groaning. “I’m an idiot.”

The thing was—I couldn’t even lie to myself. It hadn’t been some holy accident. It hadn’t been an innocent slip. I leaned in. On purpose.

And the worst part?

I wanted to do it again.

I wanted more.

I wanted his hands, the ones that looked too big for prayer, the ones I’d seen stained with ink, the ones that had brushed mine when he took that hymnal from me. I wanted those hands on me.

I shook my head hard. “No. Nope. Not going there.”

Except I already had.

I sighed, dragging my feet whispering under my breath: “Why am I like this?”

The church hall was quieter now, most of the choir gone. Lily had already ditched me after my teasing, still “mad” but not really. I should’ve gone home too. Instead, I hung around like an idiot because the thought of going back to Genevieve’s house and pretending to be a perfect little angel made me want to scream.

“Ezra,” a smooth voice said.

I flinched.

Father Nico stood near the doorway, hands folded too neatly, like he’d been watching me for a while.

“Oh, hi.” I tried not to sound nervous. “You’re… still here.”

He smiled, that sharp-perfect smile that didn’t quite touch his eyes. “Just familiarizing myself with the space. A new parish can feel… lonely at first.”

“Right. Makes sense.” I nodded too much, like a bobblehead.

His gaze lingered. 

“Do you plan to make music your career?” His voice was calm, too calm.

“Oh. Um. I’m in my last year of college. Math major.”

“Math.” He tilted his head. “Not music?”

“I mean, I love music. But…” I shrugged. “Choir isn’t exactly a career.”

“It could be,” he said. “For someone with your voice.”

I shifted on my feet. “That’s… nice of you to say.”

The silence stretched too long. His eyes stayed on me.

I forced a smile. “Well, I should, uh… get going. Good luck settling in.”

He nodded slowly. “We’ll be seeing a lot of each other, Ezra.”

Something in his tone made my stomach flip. Not in a good way.

“Right,” I mumbled, and practically speed-walked out of there.

Except I didn’t go home.

Instead, I wandered the side hall until I reached the vestry. It was dark, the heavy wooden door cracked open just enough. I slipped inside, shutting it quietly.

It smelled like old incense and dust. Safe. Quiet. Exactly what I needed.

I sat on the bench, closed my eyes, and exhaled.

Then I heard it.

A soft rustle. The sound of fabric shifting.

I froze.

My eyes snapped open.

Father Dorian stood in front of the mirror, shirt half-off, collar undone. His chest was bare, muscles defined but not showy—hard lines, a body that looked like it carried weight, not vanity. Ink curled over his ribs, black and sharp, half-hidden by the rosary draped down his chest.

I forgot how to breathe.

He wiped the back of his neck with a towel, slow and careless, like he didn’t care if anyone saw.

And then he turned.

Our eyes met in the mirror.

My throat closed.

“Oh my God—sorry—sorry, Father,” I stammered, already backing toward the door. My hand hit the knob but fumbled. “I didn’t know anyone was— I wasn’t—I wasn’t trying to—”

His eyes stayed on me. Dark. Quiet. Watching.

“Ezra,” he said, voice low.

I froze.

“Yes?” My voice cracked like I was thirteen again.

He didn’t move. He didn’t cover up. He just looked at me, that unreadable expression making my knees weak.

“I—uh— I should go,” I muttered. My hand finally found the knob. My face was on fire. My whole body was trembling.

I yanked the door open and bolted out.

The cool hallway air hit me like a bucket of water.

I didn’t stop running until I reached the side doors of the church. My pulse was going insane. My palms were sweaty, like I’d just committed a crime.

I bent over, hands on my knees.

“Okay, Ezra,” I muttered to myself. “You just walked in on your priest shirtless. Totally normal. Happens every day. People accidentally barge into vestries all the time.”

Liar.

That man wasn’t just shirtless. He was carved. And the tattoos—God, the tattoos. I didn’t even get a good look, but the little I saw was enough to short-circuit my brain. Holy scripture one minute, ink and skin the next.

I dragged my hands down my face and groaned.

“Why am I like this?”

Because you kissed him. Because you can’t stop thinking about him. Because now you’ve seen him half-naked and your imagination is already writing fanfiction in your head.

Perfect. Just perfect.

Footsteps echoed in the hall.

I straightened, forcing myself to breathe like a normal person.

It wasn’t Dorian.

It was Father Nico again.

Of course.

“Ezra,” he said, his tone too smooth. “Still here?”

“Uh… yeah. Just leaving.”

His eyes skimmed me like he was cataloging every detail. “Strange. I thought I heard someone in the vestry.”

My chest tightened. “Oh. Um. Yeah. I was just—cleaning. Dust.”

He tilted his head, smile curling. “Good boy.”

I froze. The way he said it didn’t sound like a compliment. It sounded like a test.

“Right. Well.” I cleared my throat. “See you around, Father Nico.”

He stepped aside, still smiling, and I bolted past him like the floor was on fire.

By the time I finally stepped outside into the eve

ning air, my whole body was buzzing.

Dorian Vale was dangerous.

And Father Nico? Creepy dangerous.

And me?

I was stuck in the middle, praying for forgiveness while replaying every forbidden image in my head.

And the worst part?

I knew this was only the beginning.