Jesus Freaks: The Prodigal (Jesus Freaks #2)(11)

He grins. “I find you fascinating.”

“Yeah, I’m a treasure,” I deadpan. “Can I please assume that you’ve used the magic of the Internet to fill yourself in on the last few days of my life?”

He laughs and leans forward on his elbows. “You can. And, that’s why I find you fascinating.”

“Why? Just because you didn’t know I was Roland’s daughter? That’s not fascinating so much as a number plucked out of the genetic lottery. Luck for some, I guess.”

“Not for you?”

“Seriously? Oh, yeah, the last few days have been the pinnacle of good fortune.”

It feels so good to be sarcastic with someone who I know without a doubt will get it.

“Alright, I’ll give you that one. Still, I just wish you woulda told me.” He shakes his head, looking down.

“Why? That’s the second time you’ve said that. Is it because you would have avoided hiring me?”

Asher huffs through his nose. “Hardly, but I could have helped you.” He stares at me for a while, and I stare back, trying to read his mind.

“You would have told me to come out with it myself,” I assert.

“Don’t you agree that would have been better than this?”

I growl again. “I don’t even know. What I do know is my mom wasn’t the one who changed the course of Roland’s life, it was Dan.”

“Neither,” Asher cuts it.

“Excuse me?”

“Neither of them changed the course of Roland’s life. God did.”

I pull my head back. “Wh…What…Yeah, okay, but the catalyst—and, wait…why are you feeding me God talk?” I let my eyes roam his large, muscular figure decorated in tattoos to remind myself of every impression I have of him that he’s probably about to blow out of the water.

Kind of a theme in my life lately.

“I’m a Christian, too, Kennedy,” he says as if he’s bored.

“Too,” I repeat. “Too, as in, also? Like, like them?”

He grins, standing with a full stretch of his lengthy torso as he paces to the window overlooking the parking lot.

After a bottomless inhale, he speaks. “Too. Also. Them.”

“Well, that figures.” The past few days have taught me that surprises are really anything but.

Asher laughs. “What?”

“I thought I was the most liberal looking—”

“Jesus Freak?” he challenges.

I put up my hands. “Take it easy. I’m not … that.”

He shrugs. “I am.”

I tilt my head to the side, certain he’s messing with me. “Come on.”

He waves his hand. “There will be more time for that discussion later. In the meantime, you should get going, don’t you think?”

I sigh. “I guess. My phone’s been vibrating since I left Roland’s. Mind if I go out through the front so I can get a jolt of caffeine before returning to my new reality?”

He nods in the direction of the door. “Be my guest.”

I turn for the door, stopping for a moment with my hand on the handle. “Does Chelsea know you’re one of them—us? She seems a little anti…all of it, what with the pentagram tattoo I spotted on the back of her shoulder.”

Asher arches an eyebrow and grins up at me from behind his inventory sheets. “She looks past it.”

Shaking my head, I offer nothing more before leaving his office. I’m insanely curious about his road to Freakdom, but know that conversation will be put on pause while I get my life together.

Walking through the door into the cafe, I’m met with a rush of energetic noise from the post-church crowd. Of course I’m never here on Sundays given the strict “guidelines” set by Carter University. But, in general it looks like any other busy day, with a slightly fancier dress code.

“Hey Chels.” I shimmy past her and another barista—Collin—as I move to the front of the counter. I refuse to be one of those annoying employees that swoops in on their days off and helps themselves, mucking up the flow.

“Hey sexy,” she calls brightly. “You look better than you did a couple of hours ago. Less pukey.”

“Ha! Thanks. I don’t feel less pukey.”

“Pumpkin spice latte?” She waves a 16oz cup in the air.

I nod, leaning my elbows on the counter. “Please.”

While she busies herself steaming milk, I passively look over my shoulder, but am stopped dead when I see Matt and his dad conversing in the corner. I try not to stare, but the grim looks on both of their faces only serve to pique my curiosity.

“He’s a friend of yours, right?” Chelsea brings my attention back to the counter, and my latte.

“Thanks,” I reply, taking a long sip. “Yeah he kind of rescued me from the angry mob that thought I was sleeping with Roland.”

Not kind of. Completely, totally did.

“He’s good looking. What is it with all those boys up there on The Hill?” Chelsea asks of Carter, using the local diction for the school.

I laugh, having had the same exact curiosity when I first set foot on campus. “I don’t know. It’s a miracle, I guess.”

“Cute,” she quips, heading off to deal with another customer.