Page 37 of Sunday Morning

Maybe it was God. What if wedding night sex was better? Perhaps God only allowed it to be good after marriage. But could I risk marrying Matt and it not be any better? Was I a sinner doomed to bad sex for eternity?

“I’m starving,” Matt said, pulling his shirt over his head as he stood with the door open. “You don’t have to be home for another hour. Do you want to go to McDonalds? I could use a burger and fries, but if you’re not hungry, you could just get a Coke or an ice cream cone.”

I sat up, fixed my dress, and pulled on my boots. “Uh, sure.”

“Everything okay?”

“Fine. Great. Yeah.” I smiled with a brave inhale.

Matt nodded before closing my door and jogging around the front of his car to hop into his seat. When he put it inReverse, he reached for my leg, giving it a squeeze. “I can’t believe we finally did it. We’re … having sex.” He grinned triumphantly and shoved it intoDrive.“It’s going to make going our separate ways at the end of summer that much harder.”

Agree to disagree.

As if my night couldn’t get any worse, Isaac’s truck was at McDonald’s when we pulled into the parking lot.

“The movie must have been sold out,” Matt said. After we parked, he ran around to open my door—post-coital chivalry. He looked so handsome and proud. At least one of us was glowing.

“Thanks.” I played the part with a big smile.

We held hands on the way inside the restaurant, and Heather immediately saw us and waved. Isaac’s back was to us, but he turned and eyed me quickly before smirking at Matt like they had a secret.

“Uh, I need to use the bathroom,” I murmured just as Matt started to lead me toward the counter to order.

“What do you want me to order for you?”

“Ice cream is fine,” I said, letting go of his hand and hurrying to the bathroom, where I sat on the toilet and peed. When I wiped, there was no blood and none on my underwear like Heather said she had after her first time.

As soon as I opened the stall door to wash my hands, Heather was in my face, grabbing my shoulders. “Did you do it? Tell me everything. Oh my god, I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were thinking of doing it. Was it good? Did he go down on you? Tell me!”

I lowered my head to make sure there wasn’t anyone in the other stall. Thankfully, there wasn’t.

Pulling away from her hold on me, I washed my hands, feeling her gaze at my reflection in the mirror. “Can you keep a secret?”

“Of course,” she said while I dried my hands and turned toward her.

I wrinkled my nose and whispered, “I hated it.”

Heather’s smile fell off her face, leaving a blank expression in its place. She blinked several times. “W-what do you mean? Like … sure, it hurt a little. But hate is a strong word. Did you …” She widened her eyes and slanted her head in a game of charades.

Orgasm.

Maintaining my grimace, I slowly shook my head.

“I mean, did he try to …” Again, she let me fill in the blank.

I kept shaking my head.

“Did you tell him?”

“No!” I whisper-yelled, running my hands through my hair. “I faked it, and he was so happy, telling me how much he loved me and that we could end up getting married after all. I didn’t have the heart to tell him the truth.”

Heather’s face mirrored mine—totally cringed. “Dude, it couldn’t have beenthatbad. I mean, how do you withstand wearing a tampon or Matt putting his finger in you?”

I averted my gaze and swallowed.

“Oh. My. God. Sarah, look at me!”

I forced myself to look at her.