"Name something that you've done with a boy." Harry demanded with an evident smirk on his face, sending chills down my spine.
For the pastors son, he's nothing like I expected.
"N-nothing. It's a sin." I argued, frowning my eyebrows and fiddling wi...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Chapter Seventy _______________
"Can we please go to church on Sunday?"
"No, quit asking."
"Why not?"
"Because I don't want to see my father."
"But this has nothing to do with him."
"I don't care."
"Let's go just for a few—"
"Danielle," Harry sighed, bringing the car to a stop at the red light before running a hand through his curls. "Where is this coming from? Before, you were trying to stay away from the church and everything that was involved. Now all of a sudden you wanna go?"
"Yes..." I nodded my head slowly then took one of his hands in mine, planting my lips against the back of his hand. "I believe it'll be nice for the both of us— we just have to stay away from confessions."
Harry chuckled. "I actually like the confession booth. The look on their faces cracks me up every-fucking- time. You'd think they'd be used to it since they want people to be honest."
"People lie... that's why," I giggled, intertwining our fingers. "Do you even believe in god? I mean: you confuse me because one minute you say you want no parts but it's like... you grew up in a church and you have a whole cross engraved on your hand."
Harry glanced at me then back at the road. "It's not that I don't believe in the man... I just have my doubts. In church they say when you die, then that means god was ready but it's utter bullshit to me. Do you think he wants to kill someone off while they're still young? My mother was only in her early forties when she died. Think about it."
I swallowed Harry's observation and found myself slightly agreeing with him because it's true. People in the church tended to use that excuse when someone passed away, probably in a way to keep a positive mindset going towards the whole situation. Who knows?
"Haven't we had this conversation before?" Harry asked and I shrugged.
"Maybe we have... my memory sucks," I mentioned as I laughed. "Seriously, though. Let's go to church! It doesn't have to be on Sunday. It can be tomorrow, the day after... or today..."
Harry's eyes drew towards the passenger seat where I sat, his irises studying my facial expression. "Maybe another day— definitely not today, though."
"Thank you, papa." I teased, remembering the night I first called him that while I was drunk.
Harry's deep dimples revealed themselves as he slightly tilted his head back in his seat and inhaled a sharp breath. His grip noticeably became harsher around the steering wheel, making his knuckles turn white before my eyes. Although it might be a odd nickname to call him, he still appeared to be excessively turned on when he heard it and I loved seeing him in that state.
