Page 89 of Sunday Morning

“Why?” I squinted.

“Because you’re eighteen. And your nerves are palpable. We’re in a big city. Your parents aren’t here. And while I love playing with you and bantering with you, I don’t take the responsibility I feel for your well-being lightly. So I need you to trust me implicitly. And I don’t think you can do that if I make you tremble this much.”

I shook my head, clenching my fists. “I’m not trembling.”

He frowned, taking my hand and uncurling my fingers. My hand shook when he released it, so he guided it to his shoulder before returning his hand to the bed.

“Pretend I’m Matty if you have to.”

“I don’t want to think about him,” I murmured, resting my other hand on the opposite shoulder. I ghosted both hands down his arms, letting my fingers trace the lines of his tattoos.

He shivered, and my gaze shot to his.

“Sorry,” he said softly. “Youaffectme. Or maybe your touchinfectsme.”

My gaze felt sluggish, like when he got me drunk. I skimmed back up his arms to his neck, then his face, fingers spread wide.

When the pads of my thumbs grazed his lips, he closed his eyes, and he drew in an unsteady breath.

“Are you shaking?” I whispered, feeling a tiny jolt of power.

Did I really have thateffecton him?

“Why?” I asked, slipping my fingers into his hair.

“You know why,” he said, opening his eyes.

That was it. That was the problem, the reason my nerves got the best of me. I didn’t knowwhysomeone like Isaac would genuinely be interested in an eighteen-year-old who,despite her silver cords, didn’t get into the college she wanted.

“Will you remove your shirt?” I asked.

“No. But you can remove it.” He cocked his head to the side when I hesitated. “Wrap me around that little finger of yours.”

I attempted to roll my eyes, but I couldn’t peel my gaze away from him long enough to make it believable. With no sort of grace, I pulled his shirt up and over his head, dropping it to the floor.

Isaac let his hands fall back to his sides. There was no comparison, but that didn’t stop me from seeing the six-year physical difference between him and Matt. Isaac was bigger and broader, and it did little to keep me from trembling.

I swallowed hard, and that’s when I noticed Isaac doing the same thing as his Adam’s apple bobbed.

Again, he closed his eyes when I pressed my hands to his bare chest. “For the next three days, I need to see you at all times.” He opened his eyes. “If you need to pee, I want to know. If you need a snack, I want to know. If I can’t see you, then you’re not where I need you to be. Understood?”

“You’ll be performing.” I watched his abs tighten under my touch.

“I’ll be watching you,” he said.

Our gazes locked as I paused my hands.

He reclined onto the bed. “Keep touching. When I’m not on that stage, I want your hands on me, like you’re blind and I’m your seeing-eye dog. Reach for me. Touch me. Feel me. Hold on to me.”

I chuckled. “You make it sound like I’m going to get abducted.” I rested my hands on his knees and slid my hands up his legs along the worn denim.

“Look at you, baby. Whowouldn’twant to take you?” He laced his fingers behind his head.

“I think you just want a free massage.” I crawled up his body and straddled his waist.

He lifted a brow before smiling. “I want absolutely anything you’re willing to give me.”

“Yeah?”