And that’s the problem. Eden is all I can think about, all I can feel. She’s the one I want, the one I crave, and no amount of liquor or empty encounters can change that. The priest in me knows this obsession is dangerous, that it’s leading me down a path I swore to avoid. But the man—the sinner—can’t help but revel in it, drawn to the darkness like a moth to a flame.
