Page 9 of Sunday Morning

“Your parents will totally forbid you from ever coming over here if they find out.”

“No duh.”

“How do you feel now?” he asked.

“My stomach isn’t great.” I pressed a flat hand to it. “I didn’t eat very much.”

“Come on.” He held out his hand. “Let’s get a snack.”

He pulled me to my feet and slid his hands around my waist. “Did you talk your dad into letting you go to prom this year?”

“Pfft. What do you think?”

“I think we should convince him to let you go. Maybe your mom could volunteer to chaperone?”

“And subject herself to sinful music?”

“Even my mom thinks it’s unfair to keep you from experiencing a school dance,” Matt said.

I twisted my lips. “Hmm, maybe your mom should say something to my mom.”

Matt grinned. “Maybe.” He dipped his head and kissed me.

“Hey, kids.”

We jumped apart, turning toward Isaac like soldiers coming to attention. His broad shoulders and unmatched confidence engulfed the whole doorway.

“Matty, stop trying to pick the lock to Sarah’s chastity belt. Her parents are ready to go home.”

“Shut up.” Matt pushed him, but Isaac didn’t move until he was ready to step aside. He had too much size on his little brother. “I wasn’t picking the lock to her chastity belt. Come on, Sarah,” he said, jogging down the stairs without me.

“Are you sobered up?” Isaac gave me a slow once-over.

I adjusted my sweater. “Why do you think I have a chastity belt?”

“Where to begin …” He scratched his chin. “You’re wearing a cardigan. You’re Matty’s girlfriend. My parents think God sent you just for him. So, I don’t want to think of you as a dumb blonde, but you’re making it hard on me by asking that question.”

I planted my fists on my hips. “We’re all sinners. What makes you think I’m so innocent?”

I was innocent in action but impure in thought. Some of my favorite song lyrics were about sex, not God. Every day, I thought about sex. Whenever Matt kissed me, I imagined what it would feel like if he did more than just kiss me. Half of my friends had already had sex, and the other half had at least been felt up.

Not me.

Matt talked big, but that’s where it ended. I don’t know if it wasPastorJacobson, his dad threatening Isaac’s life after he impregnated a minor, or just his morality, but Matt always talked me out of anything more than French kissing. And honestly, we barely made it into France. We were more like a rock in the Swiss Alps that rolled just over the border into the French Alps.

“Sunday Morning, no matter how high you tip your chin and puff out your tiny chest, your boots are still too big for your feet, not the other way around. So you’d better button up your cardigan and skitter out of here before I call your sad attempt at a bluff.”

I took two steps closer to Satan. “You know nothing about me.”

He gazed down at me, and his face was alight with amusement. “Have you cheated on my brother?”

I squinted. “Of course not.”

“Then your hymen is still intact. Now, run along.” He turned to the side and made a shooing motion with his hand.

A wave of heat surged up my neck and pulsed in my cheeks. I was equal parts angry and embarrassed. But I wasn’t angry at Isaac. I was angry at Matt for being too good.

Too cautious.

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