Freddie Churchill is no prodigal son. After living his freshman year of college proudly as a heathen, he comes home to the closet, and to a father who will always put the Mormon Church before him. He's on his best behavior. Until one Sunday, from across the chapel, he flirts with a temptation too good to pass up.
Jamie Fairfax is preparing to serve a mission for the Church he's always loved. He is pushing himself hard to overcome lingering doubts and intrusive anxieties, to be the valiant missionary the Lord needs him to be. And before he can prove himself worthy to serve, the Lord asks Jamie to minister to Freddie, and to entangle himself in his most forbidden desires.
They won't be married in the temple for time and all eternity. But they just might get their happily ever after ...
My friend drags me onto the dance floor, but I can’t lose myself in the music the way everyone else can. It’s all so close. There are too many limbs, too much to focus on, too much not to focus on. I feel antsy, like I urgently need to leave.
And then, because Heavenly Father really wants to try me today, He plays another slow song.
I avoid eye contact, especially with women, and I make my way back to my wall, to my lonesome chair. It’s not far enough.
My eyes dart toward an exit and I see Freddie leaning against the door. Alone.
Looking intently at me.
A smirk flies across his lips. Gracefully, he slips out the door into the empty hall and warmth radiates up and down my body.
Your bosom shall burn within you ...
I follow the Spirit’s prompting.
Freddie’s lying on a couch in the foyer, arms and legs splayed out. He smiles lazily as I approach him. I remember Dad saying that’s a good sign, and I blink that thought away.
“Hey,” he breathes. He holds his hand out for me. “Help me up?”
I do. We stand there together as the music spills out softly. I’m less exposed out here. It feels like this is where I'm supposed to be.
Hands in his pockets, he bumps his shoulder against mine. “Any ladies in there catch your eye?”
“Not really. You?”
A mysterious grin spreads across his face, and he shakes his head no.
There’s nothing else to say. Besides chasing that Spiritual prompting, I had no reason to follow him. My eyes drift between the floor and Freddie’s thumbs, poking out from his pockets, stroking the fabric of his jeans.
Freddie sort of sways, tilting his head knowingly. He sweeps his hand up and down my arm.
“You wanted a slow dance with your date, huh?”
Time stops. And I’m burning again, burning with the realization ...
He likes me.
He likes me, too.
He holds my elbow. The simple touch feels electric, exciting. He leads me, wordlessly, into a classroom. When we vacuumed this room together that day, my shoulder nearly brushed against his chest.
He shuts the door, his movements smooth. The only light comes from the street lamp just outside the frosted window.
He places one of my hands on his waist, holds the other, leading us in a calming, rocking motion. Tinkling music seeps in, faintly, from the hall.
This is not a song I know too well.
