Page 63 of Sunday Morning

“Is Matt onboard?”

I nodded, even though he also seemed to enjoy sex. And that was my fault.

My idea.

My really stupid idea.

Later that afternoon,Matt called while I played Isaac’s guitar (with my clothes on).

“Hi,” he said.

I tried to smile, but I couldn’t, and I was glad he couldn’t see me. We hadn’t talked since I ended our last call with “you’re an asshole.” With a brave inhale, I acted like it didn’t happen. “Hey. Are you home?” I asked.

“Yeah. We got home an hour ago, but I’ve been unpacking,and Dad needed me to help him and Isaac fix part of the fence. But I wanted to make sure we’re okay. I know I upset you, and I didn’t mean to.”

“No. It’s fine,” I said, “I shouldn’t have called you that. I’m sorry.”

“I was a jerk. I’m the one who should be sorry. Listen, my parents are going out with the Kirks tonight. Card club at their house. So I was thinking we should grab dinner and go to a movie. And by movie, I mean we should come back to my house.”

“With your brother?”

“Isaac spends most of his time in the barn, playing his guitar, drinking, and smoking. We’ll have the house to ourselves. Imissedyou.”

“Isaac loaned me his guitar again.”

“Well, bring it back. Okay?”

“Matt, he’ll know we’re there and not at a movie.”

He chuckled. “So? Who’s he going to tell?”

“What if he comes back to the house while we’re doing stuff?”

“I’ll tell him not to.”

I closed my eyes. Did I want Isaac to know I was messing around with his brother?

No. But kind of yes. I wanted to make Isaac jealous, but I didn’t want to endure sex to achieve that result. And why did it matter? Was I going to cheat on my boyfriend just to have bad sex with another guy?

Of course not.

I didn’t want to have sex with Isaac, but I wanted him to ghost his hands and lips along my skin. And I wanted him to say dirty things to me. Yes, I was going to Hell for thinking that.

“What time are you picking me up?” I asked.

“Five?”

“Okay.”

“I can’t wait.”

Rolling my lips together, I hummed. After hanging up the phone, I played the lines I remembered from “Bette Davis Eyes.”

I felt the rhythm.

The words.

And Isaac’s arms around me.