Sisters in the Wind(66)

Tonya entertained everyone with impersonations of each teen and Hoppy family member. When she pretended to be me, I was caught off guard. The person she portrayed was an exaggerated version of Bridget during her Un-Fun Nun era.

That wasn’t me. I was different. But the laughter from my fellow fosters made me feel like the Religious Robot. Like I still was the obedient good girl unprepared to leave the safe harbor. As if I hadn’t grown at all.

“I did something bad,” Diego confessed next to me.

“Sinner,” I said with a smile.

“I had Boyd get a bottle of wine.”

“Church wine?” I teased. When Diego looked embarrassed, I laughed. “Seriously? Boyd could get anything, and you wanted Communion wine?”

“It’s the only alcohol I ever tried,” he said.

Mister stopped by to check on us and smoke a cigarette. Cans and bottles were quickly hidden.

“It’s my only vice,” he said with a wink as he flicked the ashes off. “Missus doesn’t like the smell, but since she’s helping with Baby Allen tonight, I should be safe.”

After he left, Boyd lit a joint and imitated Mister.

“It’s my only vice,” he said, inhaling deeply before laughing. He chugged from his water bottle before raising it and toasting, “No. No. This is my only vice.”

It was stupid, but we took turns imitating Mister. When it was Diego’s turn, he unscrewed the top of the wine bottle and took a hearty drink.

“It’s my only vice,” he said, mimicking Mister’s wink before handing the bottle to me.

I swallowed a mouthful of red wine that smelled sweeter than it tasted.

“It’s my only vice,” I said to a round of cheers. To Diego, I muttered, “Mmm, lukewarm grape vinegar.”

After we finished the wine, Boyd offered to share his freshly refilled water bottle of vodka and energy drink. I declined. Diego happily accepted. The party continued with Joy and Lexi singing Rihanna. On their fourth time through “Umbrella,” I said good night to everyone and headed toward the farmhouse. My feet took me to the hammock grove instead.

It was one of those starry nights that made me feel powerful and insignificant at the same time. When I stood still, the sky kept moving. My breathing slowed, and for a moment I was no different from a tree in the grove. My feet were rooted to the earth. I stretched my arms, reaching upward with splayed fingers. My branches felt the wind rustle through them, and I sighed along with the breeze that cooled my warmed cheeks. I looked above, and for the first time in a very long while, I felt the presence of something I used to think of as God.

I stayed in that contented moment until footsteps approached. I wasn’t angry about being pulled out of my reverie. I wasn’t anything. I just existed.

Diego was next to me. I realized I hadn’t been afraid. My first thought hadn’t been of Steven Sterling coming for me. He wasn’t my boogeyman anymore. Just an afterthought.

“You okay?” Diego spoke slowly, clearly buzzed.

“Yes.” I meant it on a profound level.

When Diego leaned into me and kissed my lips, I felt strong and happy. I kissed him back. I wrapped my arms around him. He was warm. His T-shirt was threadbare and soft. My fingertips traced the muscles spanning his broad back.

I darted my tongue into his mouth, which tasted like fruity cough syrup and clove. He smelled of bonfire and, hidden beneath that, a faint musk of sweat long dried.

The groan that came from him was deep and rumbled from his chest into mine. I wanted to feel his skin against me and hear him groan again. We paused our kiss when I lifted his shirt over his head. His lips went to my neck and my earlobe. I tingled everywhere he kissed me, so I pulled my shirt up and off. Diego kissed my shoulders. He lingered at the inside of my wrist before tracing a vein all the way to my bicep. His breath was hot against my armpit before his tongue darted to lick there. The move surprised me—it was a body part I didn’t think was sexy, but I felt a zing from my soft underarm to my groin.

I unclasped my bra, letting it fall to the ground, where our T-shirts made a tiny pile. My breasts reacted to the evening breeze, nipples puckering and goose bumps covering soft skin. I wanted his hot breath and warm hands on me. As soon as I guided his hands to my chest, Diego groaned again and nuzzled me.

We held each other, kissing and touching. I wasn’t aware of us moving across the yard until we bumped against the picnic table in the hammock grove. I leaned against the edge of the table and helped Diego unbutton and unzip my jeans shorts. He slipped my underpants past my knees, trailing his lips down my legs. He kissed me in odd places—the underside of my knees, the softest part of my inner thigh, the bottoms of my feet.

He liked when I leaned him backward on the picnic table, as if he were the feast. I did the same thing he had done, kissing wherever I wanted.

It was the easiest thing to lie on top of him. We kissed and touched each other. I tingled all over and kept moving. For not knowing anything about intercourse beyond what I’d read in novels, I caught on quickly. I wanted to know where he’d learned how to set me alight. But that was for later.

He felt good. I felt good. We felt good together.

I gasped like coming up for air. I held on to Diego, kissing his neck and touching the small gold crucifix with my lips.

It felt right for Diego’s God and the infinite universe of stars to be with us.