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)
I glared at him. “You’re a pervert.”
Isaac glanced out the window to his left. I wasn’t the only one who didn’t want to get caught. He just hid his nerves better—but not completely. “Are you coming with me to Nashville on Friday?” He kept his focus on the window.
“We’re not doing … it.”
“Going to Nashville?” He shot me a quick glance.
Sex was a three-letter word, not a four-letter word. Why did it feel so forbidden to say? In my head, I was a fearless rebel. I dreamed of breaking all the rules.
In reality, I was a good girl with the occasional sinfully brave moment. I was average in school, average at breaking rules, and average at being a good girl.
Averaged sucked.
It was forgettable and uninspiring.
“I’m not having sex with you.” Okay, I went a little overboard with that emphasis.
Isaac lifted his eyebrows, rubbing his lips together to quell his amusement.
“Did I ask you to have sex with me?”
Dang it! I really wanted my underwear back. Confidence felt just out of reach with my lady bits airing out below.
“So you don’t want to?” I tipped up my chin, but my voice still trembled.
Isaac unloaded the rest of the egg cartons. “Most days, it’s all I want.”
“You’re messing with me.” I removed my dirty shoe and hopped away from the mess, stepping into the bathroom to rinse it off in the sink.
“Sunday Morning, you could wrap me around your little finger if only you knew how to wield the power I’m giving you.”
“Pfft.” I slipped on my shoe and turned the corner as he cleaned up the egg mess with paper towels. “I don’t believe you.”
“Of course, you don’t.” He chuckled.
“I’m leaving. Give me my underwear.”
“Nope.” He tossed the paper towels into the garbage can and stood, again peering out the window to check for Wesley.
“Why?”
“I’ll give them back to you in Nashville.”
I balled my fists, and his attention shifted to my sides.
“Use your power.”
His power, baloney, only made me angrier. As it was, I had to go home and not get paid for the day.
“Keep them, you perv.” I pushed him out of my way and grabbed my purse from the shelf under the counter.
“Singing is performing,” he said as I headed toward the door. “Performing is harnessing all of your power to be everything you are and everything you hope to be. Performing is finding courage in the face of fear. It’s raw vulnerability.” He grinned. “But it’s the best fucking feeling in the world.”
I didn’t let on that his words gave me chills. Music was my love language. Isaac spoke my language in a world where my averageness made me feel invisible.
“What’s your point?” I asked without turning toward him.
“You don’t deserve to be on a stage until you’re ready to harness that power, to take what’s yours.”
I opened the door and slammed it behind me, but I only got two steps before I turned and stomped back into the shed and straight to Isaac. He glanced over his shoulder as he stood with the freezer door open. When he started to turn, I pushed his back to keep him facing away from me. Pressing my chest to his back, I slid both hands into his front pockets, finding my underwear in one while my thumb grazed something else while searching his other pocket.
I was shaking, heart pounding. Yet, I mustered enough courage to lift onto my toes and whisper in his ear, “I’m going to sing with you on stage.”
His lips twitched. “Have Heather drop you off in the church parking lot at six a.m.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
THE CARS, “DRIVE”
“It’s okay to change your mind. If anything happens to you, your parents will have no idea. Do you really trust Isaac?” Heather lived on the edge more than I did, but she stepped up and gave me the mom talk on our way to the church. And I loved her for it. As much as we were each other’s cheerleaders for taking chances and enjoying the beauty of being young, naive, reckless (and a little stupid), we loved each other like sisters.
I worried about her.
She worried about me.
“He was in the Army for six years. I think that makes him pretty trustworthy,” I said despite my hands shaking.
“Does he have your phone number in case he needs to call your parents? Does he have condoms?”
“I said we’re not—”
“Sarah Elaine Jacobson, stop lying to yourself. Whether you like sex or not, you know you’re going to say yes to him. Don’t. Get. Pregnant.”
Chewing the heck out of my lower lip, shaky hands reaching for my seat belt, I nodded.
Heather pulled into the church parking lot at ten before six, and Isaac’s truck was already there. Adrenaline surged through my body; it was almost too much to take. Maybe it was too reckless, too stupid.