Kept Read online

Page 12


  He swallowed a bite and grinned at the dressing-drenched lettuce. “Honey mustard is my weakness.”

  “Do you drink it?”

  “Only for breakfast.” His smile faded. “Miska, I can do everything I want to take care of myself, but if God doesn’t give me health, I won’t have any.”

  “That’s not true. You put the work in and you get the results.”

  “Then someone’s in an accident. Or they get some rare disease. Their muscles deteriorate or—” He pointed at her. “Look at Lou Gehrig. A professional athlete. Active. Healthy. Goes from being one of the best athletes to dead in a few years.”

  “So God killed him.”

  His brown eyes roamed her face.

  “Don’t think I’d want to believe in a god like that.”

  “You have to go back to the beginning, Miska.”

  “The beginning of what?”

  “Of man. Have you read any of the Bible?”

  “Some. In college.”

  “If you go to the beginning, you read how God made the first man and woman.”

  “Adam and Eve. I’ve heard that story.”

  “Only it’s not a story. It’s truth.”

  His words hovered between them. Miska waited for the punch line, waited for him to smirk and tell her he was kidding, but the serious look on his face stayed there. Remained. Watched her digest the realization that he was a complete lunatic.

  How horribly sad. How wrong that such a wonderful guy would believe such—such stupidity. “Dillan, don’t say that.”

  “Why?”

  “Because we know how the world began.”

  “How?”

  “The gasses caused an explosion that brought about the very basic forms of life, and millions of years later, here we are. Everyone knows that.”

  “Everyone who rejects God, everyone who wants to bury their head in the sand.”

  “Hey now—”

  He crossed his arms. “What evidence is there?”

  “Science has proven it.”

  “No, it hasn’t.”

  “Okay, you prove it.”

  “In so many ways science has proven that evolution couldn’t have happened, that the earth is nowhere near millions of years old. Mt. Saint Helens—the volcano in Washington that exploded back in the eighties? All the stuff scientists said took millions of years to occur—the rock layers, the trees in the rock layers—all of that happened in one catastrophic event. They know what the area was like before the eruption, they went back in as soon as they could, and it had completely changed. Completely. All these new rock layers that weren’t there before the explosion—they happened over days and weeks, Miska. Days and weeks. And there have been more eruptions and new rock layers since.”

  Her mouth fell open. Had he ever said so much at one time?

  “And then there are scientific calculations like the rotation of the earth, the magnetic field, the size of the sun if the earth had been around that long. Nothing—nothing!—could have survived the speed of the rotation or the heat of the sun or the force of gravity. And when’s the last time an explosion created something complex?”

  Holy cow. “Dillan—”

  “Does a fertilizer plant explode and create the best fertilizer known to man?”

  She raised her eyebrows, pretending boredom.

  “Of course not. That’s absurd. So why do we believe an explosion brought about the most intricate form of anything anywhere?”

  “I’m not a scientist, Dillan, but those guys are way smarter than you or me. I trust that what they tell me is the truth.”

  He pointed at her. “Exactly. You have to trust. You have to have faith in what they say. Because whether you believe God made the world or that the world evolved, both beliefs go back to the same thing.”

  “Which is?”

  “That no one was there in the beginning. No one. Either way, it’s a religion that you have to put your faith in.”

  A religion?

  “When you go back to the beginning, the Bible says that God made the world. He made man and woman and put them in charge of the earth. God told them there was one thing they couldn’t do. Everything else was theirs to enjoy. But they chose to disobey God, and they brought sin into the world.”

  Sin? Wow, this guy talked like he’d come out of the fifties.

  “And sin brought death and destruction. We see it every day. So that’s the answer to your question. Man caused his own death, his own destruction. Not God.”

  “Let’s pretend what you’ve said is true. Then isn’t God to blame for leaving the world as it is? Look at what happens every day in this town—all the murder, abuse, crime. What kind of god lets that continue?”

  He nodded. “Man ruins everything in the beginning of the Bible, but what follows is the story of God’s love for us, of his decision to come down and give us a way out of our mess.”

  “Really.”

  “God makes this incredible promise, that someday he’ll send a perfect sacrifice—Jesus—to pay for what we’ve done. Everyone who believes will be forgiven. They’ll have eternal life in heaven when life here is over.”

  What had she ever seen in him? He was a nut job. “When does the spaceship come?”

  His shoulders drew up, straight and stiff. “You’ve never heard this, have you?”

  “Never.”

  “Then it makes sense that it would sound crazy, but it’s the truth. It’s what our country was founded on, the beliefs of the Bible. That there are rights and wrongs, absolutes.”

  “Dillan, it’s outdated.”

  “Really? So we push the Bible aside, say it doesn’t apply, and our society gets worse and worse. You said so yourself.”

  “But that’s not…” That’s just how life was—hard, difficult. People weren’t fair, couldn’t be trusted. Everyone had to look out for themselves or be taken advantage of. There was no other way.

  But to imagine that there could be something better—

  “Miska. Tell me.”

  She jerked her gaze to his. What had he seen?

  “I won’t judge you.”

  Was that what he thought? That she was going to confess some great sin? “It’s just what you said. Life is hard. Unfair.”

  She toyed with her lasagna, pulling cheese to the side, pushing sausage and beef in another direction. Tomato sauce clung to everything. “I’ll probably regret this later, but you and Tracy and Garrett—” She swallowed the words, then let them out. “Tracy told me last night about her past and Garrett’s past.”

  He frowned at his plate. “Oh.”

  “She didn’t go into detail about Garrett. I guess he did some things your family didn’t like.”

  He set his good hand on his hip, elbow out, and stared at his plate.

  “Tracy and Garrett, they’re… waiting.”

  He gave a slow nod.

  “But…” How did she ask this without it coming across wrong? “Why are they waiting? If neither one is a virgin?”

  “It goes back to the Bible.”

  “Which says?”

  “That sex is to be saved for marriage. For that person you marry.”

  “Why?”

  The planes of his face tightened.

  “You don’t seem to want to talk about this.”

  “It’s not that. It just seems kind of obvious.”

  Really?

  “If you’re faithful to one person for your whole life, there’s a lot less pain and risk. If you wait until marriage, there’s no fear of being left for another—”

  “That’s not true. That happens all the time.”

  “Sure, but in what circumstances? Someone strayed from the relationship. Or they never married so it didn’t seem wrong to throw that person away.”

  “People in marriages divorce all the time.”

  “They do, but how often would it be if people did things the way the Bible says? If they followed God’s plan, if they waited until they were married—”
r />   “Have you waited?”

  There. It was out, the question she’d been longing to ask since last night. Miska waited for the answer, hoping to hear yes, hoping to hear no. Hoping…

  He looked from her to the plate in front of him, to the lasagna with only a couple bites taken.

  He hadn’t waited? Really? After everything he’d said? After this whole insane conversation? She stabbed a piece of lettuce. Then another.

  “Why do you want to know?” he finally asked.

  He sounded beaten. Of course. Because he’d been caught. Fake. Hypocrite. She jammed the fork into her mouth, stabbing her tongue. Liar.

  He looked up. “Why, Miska?”

  She chewed her food. Glared at him. Swallowed. “Because men don’t wait. Ever. All the boys I knew in high school, my brothers, my father, men my mom dated. Men I’ve dated. They don’t wait. Garrett didn’t—”

  “Some do.”

  “Name one.”

  He heaved a sigh and looked her in the eye. “I have.”

  She stilled in her chair.

  He held her gaze, his honesty undeniably clear.

  He’d waited? For marriage? Which meant— “You’re a virgin?”

  He gave a simple nod.

  “Why?” She couldn’t keep quiet. “Dillan, that makes no sense. Why would you do that to yourself?”

  “It’s the other way around. Why would I want to go against what God says is right? Against the guidelines he’s put down to protect me?”

  “Protect you?”

  “Yes, protection. God doesn’t tell us to wait to yank us around. It’s for our own good.”

  She could feel her heart breaking. “You’re almost twenty-nine. And you’ve never…”

  He nodded again. “I’ve never.”

  “How can you wait? How can you deny yourself every day?”

  He straightened and looked around the room.

  “You’re even embarrassed about—”

  “No, I’m not.”

  His harshness froze her.

  His eyes were dark, his jaw and mouth tight.

  “I’m sorry. I’m not making fun. I just… I don’t get it. It’s not natural. It’s just not.”

  “So you wouldn’t want a man who was a virgin.”

  “No.” She folded her arms across her stomach. A man like that would be so clueless, so inexperienced.

  “You’d rather have a man who brought risks, who’d proven he didn’t stick around. A man who valued sex more than the woman who gave it to him, who used her and kept her around as long as she made him happy. Forget about what she wants.”

  She looked up to find him studying her. For several long seconds, their gazes held.

  He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “To me, it’s the other way around. Imagine a man coming to you and saying, ‘Hey, I’ve waited for you. All these years I’ve kept myself for you. Kept myself pure for your sake, for us. And now here it is. I give it to you, Miska. And no one else.’ You’re telling me you wouldn’t want that?”

  I give it to you, Miska.

  A tear slid down her cheek before she could stop it. The image of a man like Dillan—no, Dillan himself—offering such a gift was heartbreakingly wrenching. Because it would never happen. Not to her.

  She covered her face, struggling to keep herself together. She pictured Mark. Kendall. Jared. Gordon. So many others. None of them had come to her like that.

  She hadn’t gone to a single one like that.

  Dillan cleared his throat. His silverware clanked against his plate. His chair scraped.

  She drew in a shuddering breath and wiped her face. When she looked up, he stood over her trash can, scraping the remains of his meal into the trash.

  She hurried to her feet, frantic to think of a way to get him to stay. “Do you want to take some home? I can pack up—”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You hardly ate.”

  “Yeah, well…” He set the plate in her sink, then stood there and looked at it. “I should go.”

  She disgusted him. She knew it. If she were the only woman left, he would never bring his virginity to her.

  Well, it would be his loss. She knew how to give a man a good time. Knew well. Anyway, he couldn’t be right. He was the only virgin she knew. The only one.

  One person couldn’t be right.

  She followed him to the door. If he were a virgin, it was his own stupid fault. All this pious nonsense about waiting. No, she wasn’t buying it. He was deformed somehow. Or he’d been turned down or made fun of in some way. He probably wasn’t even a virgin. Maybe he was gay—and ashamed of it. Saying he was waiting for the right woman, all that Bible nonsense—that was his way of hiding it.

  What kind of man said no to sex? Not a masculine man, for sure.

  Dillan opened her door and looked at her. He stopped, his forehead lined. “What?”

  “I didn’t say anything.”

  “You’ve got this look on your face.”

  “A guilty look? The look of someone who’s seen the error of her ways?”

  His eyes narrowed. “No, the look of someone who’s ticked.”

  “I wouldn’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Right. Thanks for lunch and the interesting conversation.” He tipped his head in good-bye. “See you.”

  Not if she could help it.

  She slammed the door behind him.

  In the kitchen she glared at the table and dishes. What a joke lunch had been.

  She snorted. What a joke Dillan had turned out to be.

  Her closed laptop called from her desk. She eyed it. Wouldn’t this be an interesting blog post, sharing his whacked-out view. It would be different than her usual posts.

  She settled onto her chair and woke the computer. Dillan could tell his version of things all he wanted, but so could she.

  And far more people listened to her than to him.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Misky, this tastes amazing.” Adrienne took another bite of salmon and spoke around her full mouth. “Makes me want to learn to cook.”

  Seated at the island beside Adrienne, Miska dug into her own fish. “Someday you’ll have to or you’ll turn into a blimp.”

  “Until then, I’ll mooch off you.”

  Which hadn’t happened in a long time. “Where’ve you been? You seeing someone?”

  A smile twisted Adrienne’s mouth.

  “I knew it. How long?”

  “Just this week.”

  “No way.”

  “Really. Other than that, I’ve had tons of work.”

  “You should bring your work here. I miss that.”

  “I know. That seems so long ago.”

  It was long ago, back when Adrienne had been her roommate—until their different lifestyles became too much. Even that had only resulted in Adrienne moving out, not in seeing each other less.

  Something stood between them now.

  Adrienne looked up, and Miska returned to her plate, filling her fork with asparagus. “What are you thinking?” Adrienne asked.

  “I just hate how busy life’s gotten.”

  “What’s going on? You’re only seeing Mark right now, unless Kendall’s coming—”

  “He’s not,” Miska snapped. There was a name she didn’t want to think about until she had to.

  “Fine. Whatever. But Mark’s hardly around. Plus we haven’t gone out much—which reminds me. How was Monday night?”

  “Fantastic.”

  “Oh. So you found another—”

  “That was sarcasm.”

  “Then what’s got you all busy?”

  “I went to Dillan and Garrett’s church on Sunday.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “Nope.”

  “Have you ever been to church?”

  “First time.”

  “So you had this thirty-year streak going and you ruined it?”

  “Yep.”

  “How was it?”

&nbs
p; “Awful. I left early.”

  “Good for you. Why on earth did you go?”

  She wrapped an arm around herself. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  Adrienne shrugged and took another bite.

  The earthy smell of fish, asparagus, and the olive oil they’d been cooked in wafted around Miska. The pleasure was lost, though. She dropped her fork to her plate and sighed.

  “Okay, what’s wrong?”

  “I just don’t feel right. Ever get that way? Where everything feels off?”

  “Sure.”

  “What do you do?”

  “Whatever will help. Did something happen?”

  “No.” Maybe. “I had this weird conversation with Dillan yesterday.”

  Adrienne glanced at her as she picked up her wine goblet. “Oh, yeah?”

  “Get this. He says he’s a virgin.”

  Adrienne coughed on the sip she’d taken. She set her glass down and wiped her chin. “Man, that burns.”

  “Sorry. Can you believe that?”

  Adrienne coughed again.

  “He tried to convince me to wait for marriage.”

  “Like it’s not too late for you.”

  She shrugged the words away, even though they rankled. “There’s no way he’s telling the truth, is there?”

  “There are groups where it’s common for people to wait until they get married.”

  “I can’t even wrap my mind around it.”

  “Yeah, it’s weird.” Adrienne pushed her asparagus around. “Garrett and Dillan grew up that way?”

  “I guess.”

  “Interesting.”

  “What do you know about people like that? Should I be worried since they’re next door?”

  “They’re harmless.” Her smile grew. “And usually a bit of fun.”

  “You’ve got a story. Tell me.”

  Adrienne shrugged. “I grew up next to a family like that. They had teenage boys.”

  “You corrupted them, didn’t you?”

  “No, although I tried. The oldest kept trying to convert me, telling me there were consequences and stuff like that.”

  “To some extent, that’s true.”

  “Duh, of course. There are consequences to everything we do, some good, some bad. Anyway, those little cultures actually teach their young to wait until they’re married. From what I remember, a lot of them follow that. But not all.”