Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 102079 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 510(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102079 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 510(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
“Hey!” Matt smiled when I slid into his car with Isaac’s guitar. He leaned over and kissed my cheek.
“Hi. You smell good.” Matt always smelled good—not Drakkar Noir good, but Irish Spring good. “Where are we going to eat?” I asked.
“Pizza Hut?” he suggested, jockeying his El Camino in the opposite direction to pull out of our driveway.
I nodded. “Sounds good to me.”
“How’s it going with Isaac’s guitar? Do you know any songs?”
I shrugged. “Yeah, I’ve figured out quite a bit.”
“Consider yourself lucky that you’re Pastor Jacobson’s daughter.”
“Why is that?” I glanced over at him.
“I’m pretty sure that’s the only reason Isaac’s being nice to you. He can be a jerk about his stuff. He’s never been good at sharing.”
“Lucky me.” I gripped the side of the seat, feeling like my emotions were all over my face no matter how hard I tried to hide them.
We ended up eating at Pizza Hut with a group of school friends. Throughout the meal, Matt gave me bedroom eyes, which made me anxious.
Take one for the team.
We got to his house a little after seven.
“What time are your parents coming home?” I took his hand as he led me into the house.
“Between nine and ten. So …” Matt glanced back at me, biting his lower lip.
So we needed to get to having sex.
Yay.
“Figured you’d be in the barn half drunk by now,” Matt said to Isaac, who was in the kitchen.
“I’m half drunk but not in the barn yet. I’m making a sandwich,” Isaac mumbled, keeping his head bowed as he spread mayo on the hoagie. “Then I’ll get out of here so you can disappoint God.”
“Shut up,” Matt grumbled, shaking his head while we removed our shoes. “Ignore him. He’s having nicotine withdrawal. Some girl he met won’t kiss him until he quits smoking.”
I set Isaac’s guitar on the floor next to the stairs just as he glanced up at me and smirked.
With a fake smile, I cleared my throat. “Did this girl say that?” I asked.
Isaac screwed the mayo lid onto the jar. “Not in so many words. But she’s mentioned my ‘disgusting’ habit on more than one occasion, so I’ve read between the lines because I’m smart.”
“Maybe she just thinks you’re disgusting and has no intention of kissing you even if you quit smoking.” I returned a toothy grin.
Matt laughed. “That sounds more likely.”
Isaac fought his grin while wrapping his sandwich in several paper towels. “Perhaps. However, when I touch her, she gets breathy and blushes from nose to toe. So I think it’s only a matter of time before she’s begging for it.”
“It’s so obvious why you’re single.” Matt rolled his eyes and headed up the stairs.
I didn’t follow him quite yet because Isaac had me ensnared in his gaze as he walked toward me. At the last second, his gaze dropped to my shirt, and an enormous grin overtook his face as he leaned down to pick up the guitar case.
“Matty’s going to bed with blue balls. He just doesn’t know it yet.” He snickered, sauntering toward the back door with four cans of beer dangling from a six-pack ring, the sandwich in one hand, and his guitar in the other.
When I reached the top of the stairs, Matt was sitting on the end of his bed. “Come here.” He smiled.
I couldn’t help but smile too. Matt was a good guy, and his joy rubbed off on everyone around him.
Except for his brother.
Joy and Isaac didn’t belong in the same sentence. He was a lot of things, but joyous wasn’t one of them.
“Shut the door,” Matt said as I stepped into his room.
I closed it and padded my bare feet toward him, and that’s when his gaze seemed to focus on my shirt for the first time that night. It elicited a frown, but I still stepped between his spread legs and rested my hands on his shoulders. I was fully prepared to have sex with him. I had endured worse. It wasn’t so much that I was taking one for the team since there wasn’t Team Sex, but I either needed to blow up everyone’s world or bide my time for the summer. And biding my time meant sex.
Hookers did it. Surely, they didn’t enjoy it. But at least they got paid for it. The fact that I kept equating my behavior to hookers wasn’t a good sign.
“Sarah, how am I supposed to feel okay about doing this when you’re wearing that shirt?”
I shrugged. “I assumed I’d take off the shirt. It’s not like I’m going to ride you with it on, so the whole time you’re reminded that Jesus loves me. He loves you, too, even if you’re having premarital sex.”
Matt looked disgusted. I remained nonchalant, acting like it wasn’t planned or a big deal. When his shoulders sagged with disappointment, I caved and removed my shirt.