Page 60 of Sunday Morning
It paralyzed me with warring emotions and conflicting physical responses. Matt made me feel secure, but Isaac made the ground shake under my feet, leaving me unsure if I would fall or fly.
“I love Matt,” I whispered while my eyes drifted shut. It was a terrible defense I clung to because the truth made me feel like a sinner. My head swam more than it had after that drink on Easter Sunday.
“I do too,” Isaac murmured, dragging his lips down my cheek to the corner of my mouth. “So we should stop.” He ghosted his lips over mine without kissing me.
My heart didn’t merely race like someone startling me. It exploded.
I couldn’t move—not my lips, not any other part of my body. I would not cheat on Matt. And I definitely wouldn’t do it by kissing his brother. Still, I didn’t want Isaac to stop whatever he was doing.Of course, we should have stopped. It was the smart thing to do, but I wasn’t valedictorian. Was it fair to ask a girl with barely one toe into adulthood and a 3.2 GPA to make the smart decision?
My B-average mind went to work, sorting through my sins and trying to list my indiscretions in order from least to most offensive. Letting Isaac touch me like that was kind of wrong, but I wasn’t married to Matt, so was it cheating in a biblical sense? (Of course, it was.) Then again, I had sex with Matt, and that wasn’t right in God’s eyes. And it had to be worse than letting Isaac’s lips brush against mine. Right?
Bottom line: there was no denying that I’d been up to no good on more than one occasion. I just didn’t know if I would feel more remorse for disappointing Matt or disobeying God. The effects of the former felt more immediate.
“I won’t kiss you until you ask me to,” Isaac whispered against my lips.
I was paralyzed, even though his hands were no longer gripping my wrists because they were undoing two buttons on my blouse. His lips trailed down my neck without kissing a single inch of my skin.
Neck.
Shoulder.
Chest.
And then his mouth hovered over the swell of my breast where his name hadn’t completely faded.
Isaac was marking me again, only this time, it was invisible. But sometimes, the things we couldn’t see made a deeper impact and the most permanent mark. It was an out-of-body experience. I couldn’t control my reaction to him any more than I could control the weather.
When my senses returned, I pressed my hands to his chest and made him take a step back while shaking my head. “This is a terrible idea.” I buttoned my shirt with shaky hands. “Your brother and our families are expecting a wedding in the future. I work for your parents. And your family owns the house that my family can’t afford every month. But that’s okay with your dad because he’s willing to overlook a few missed rent payments from his pastor and future daughter-in-law.” As much as it pained me, I lifted my gaze to his.
Isaac rubbed his lips together while tucking his fingers into his back pockets.
I cleared my throat. “I think you’ll live longer if you go back to torturing baby animals and smoking and stay as far away from me as possible. Your dad will be less likely to threaten you with a shotgun.”
He seemed to think about my words before the corner of his mouth twitched. “You’re not a calf. I’m not chasing you with a rope. Just the opposite. I’m trying to free you. You’re too big for this little town. You’re a wanderer with dreams too vast to walk a straight line. I’m not trying to steal you from God or Matty. Although, if you’re a Bible enthusiast, one of those two men loves you unconditionally, forgives all of your sins, and has given you the freedom to make your own decisions. The other one wants you barefoot and pregnant while he sprints after his own dreams. And for the record, that shotgun story is bullshit.” He reached past me and opened my door.
Isaac’s words, as far-fetched as they were, made my cheeks fill with heat. It was like a switch flipped. Isaac was right; I didn’t know how to walk a straight line. And I knew I would never let it get out of control, the way I knew my heart wasn’t ready to surrender to a life with Matt. But I couldn’t deny the power and confidence I felt around Isaac because he wanted me, and I wanted a part of him, even though I didn’t know what that was.
“What do you mean the shotgun story is BS?”
“Don’t worry about it. Get in.”
“If you didn’t want me to worry about it, you shouldn’t have said it.”
He gave me a challenging expression with a hint of a grin. “Get in the fucking truck.”
“Fine, Satan.” I smirked, climbing into hisfuckingtruck.
As hard as I tried, my confidence paled incomparison to his. I was all talk while Isaac had real-life experience. That unavoidable fact was cemented into my brain as he adjusted himself.
“Fuck, Sunday Morning. You’re making my dick hard by calling me Satan. I might have to say a few extra prayers at church this Sunday.”
I fastened my seat belt, focusing on my hands instead of his crotch.
“I’ll believe it when I see it,” I said. It was a weak comeback. I had a lot of practice to do, but we had all summer.
We. Had. All. Summer.
He shut the door and drove me home. We didn’t talk; instead, we listened to the radio, and I sang along. Isaac grinned, occasionally shooting me a sidelong glance, but I pretended not to see it.