He picked up and discarded a chocolate bar, frustration welling in his chest. Before Bri, he’d have just grabbed a Snickers and been on his way. Actually, before Bri, he hadn’t had much of a sweet tooth at all. Now, none of the options on the shelf looked appealing, yet the craving remained. None of them were petit fours or macarons.
None of them were made by Bri.
“Sometimes too many choices are a bad thing.”
Gerard turned at the sudden voice over his shoulder. Pastor John. He sounded his agreement. “Especially when you know you don’t actually need any of them.”
“Hey, that’s pretty good. I should work that into a sermon.” John grinned. Even this late in the evening, he looked energetic in a hoodie and track pants. “Personally, I can recommend these here.” With a wink, he reached out and snagged a package of Double Stuf Oreos.
They actually sounded pretty good. Gerard picked up his own pack. “Are you a sermon-writing snacker?”
“Sometimes, when I get stuck.” John shrugged. “Tonight, though, just had a hankering.”
Gerard nodded. “Same here.” More like he was eating his feelings.
“Did you finish the feature? Or is this supposed to help?” The pastor gestured toward the cookies.
“It’s done. I’m done.” He and Bri were done. But then again, John never knew they were together in the first place. And the last place Gerard wanted to vent that entire story was in the candy aisle of a gas station.
Or at all.
“I’m glad to hear you met your goal but sorry to see you leave.” John easily held his gaze, his confidence more inviting than off-putting. “So, where to next?”
“Home for now. Chicago.” Gerard studied the cookies in his hand, wary of John reading the unsaid in his heavy, scratchy eyes. “I’m up for a promotion, so I’ll stick around there for a bit.”
“Congratulations.” John tilted his head, stepping aside briefly to make room for an older man passing down the aisle. “Right?”
“Absolutely. It’s what I’ve been after. I’ll have a voice. More opportunities to help my mom. Deeper topics to write about.”
John nodded slowly. “That sounds good.”
It did. So why the gaping hole in his heart suggesting otherwise?
Gerard squeezed the package of cookies. This had been a bad idea. He should have started for home already instead of making the wiser decision to head out at first light. He needed the wind on his face and the roar of his motorcycle in his ears to drown out the doubt. He needed the distraction of an adrenaline rush.
He needed to move.
“Staying in one place has its perks, you know.” John flipped and caught the package of Oreos, over and over, as casually as if he hadn’t just somehow read Gerard’s mind. “There’s something to be said for security.” Flip, catch. “For roots.” Flip, catch. His eyes locked with Gerard’s. “For relationships.”
“So, you know about Bri.” Figured.
John grinned wide. “It was obvious at Casey and Nathan’s wedding, man. The two of you . . .” He shook his head, letting out a low whistle. “Gives new meaning to ‘opposites attract.’”
“Well, they might be repelling now, if you ask her.”
“What do you think?”
Gerard shrugged, his throat knotting up. “It doesn’t matter, unfortunately. I’m heading out tomorrow, and she made it clear how she feels.”
“One thing I’ve learned in my years of pastoral counseling is that it’s never too late.” John pointed at him with his cookies. “But it’s hard to talk when you’re driving away.”
“You think I should stay longer?” The thought both appealed to and repulsed him. Plus, Trek was waiting on him. His mom was waiting on him . . .
John shrugged. “I don’t know what the Lord has planned for you and Bri. But I know you won’t find out if you’re afraid to try.”
Gerard scoffed. “I’m not afraid of anything.”
John raised his eyebrows, as if waiting for elaboration.
He had plenty to give. “I’ve cliff-dived. Bungee jumped. Swam with sharks.” Gerard’s heart pounded even now at the memories. He pushed up his shirt sleeves. “I’ve gotten more tats than I can count. I’ve never turned down a dare or a challenge. I’m a straight-up adrenaline junkie, man. You’re preaching to the wrong choir on that one.”
“That’s impressive. I couldn’t do half of those things.” John nodded slowly. “But tell me this. Have you ever sat still?”
No. Gerard clenched his jaw. And he clearly didn’t need to speak it for John to know the truth. How did this man keep doing that—keep reading him with the familiarity of a used paperback?
“I jog a lot.” John plucked at the front of his hoodie. “My wife teases me about having more athletic gear than she does, but it’s what I do. I run. Run when I’m hungry, when I’m stressed, when I’m bummed out. Run when I’m mad.” He paused. “I’ve come to realize that staying still is often hard because it means we have to face ourselves—and our inadequacies.”
Gerard started to protest. “But you’re—”
“I’ve got them too. Don’t think that just because I’m a preacher I have it all figured out.” John shook his head. “I still sin. I have flaws and baggage. I need the Lord daily.”
Gerard’s rebuttal died in his throat. He’d never heard a pastor admit to even half of that.
“I don’t know what kind of church background you have, and I can’t fix old hurts, but I can tell you that you’d probably have a different experience in our congregation.” He winked. “If you stick around, that is.”
Gerard clamped his mouth shut. The pastor had a point—as much as he hated to admit it. He’d been running. Bri had seen it. He’d even felt it but refused to acknowledge it. He ran to hide from his mom’s addiction. Ran to evade rejection. Ran to avoid the truth about his feelings for Bri.
All it’d gotten
