“Okay. I won’t. Don’t worry. I’m not sure I can ever look him in the eye again anyway.”

“I don’t think I can look him in the eye knowing he’s a dirty talker,” she replied. “Anyway, I’m going to bed to dream of Mason with a British accent.”

I wrinkled my nose. “Thanks. I’ll just go to bed with my nightmare.”

“Ah, think of it like this: at least you might get laid now.” With that delightful silver lining, she hung up on me.

I didn’t need to be a genius to say this: I was not going to get laid.

There was no way in the world that Isaac was interested in me like that, and there was no guarantees he would be even after learning that we shared a sexual fantasy or two.

Wait.

No, he wasn’t going to learn that. I wasn’t going to tell him, and I was going to do everything in my power to make sure that he never, ever got my number to find out.

***

There was something about an early morning sunrise that made me feel good.

I didn’t know if it was being up before the birds and being able to experience the silence that came with such a thing, or if it was simply the beauty of the ever-changing color of the sky, a bit like a kaleidoscope.

Maybe it was the magic of both combined.

Either way, I was awake at the ass-crack of dawn, nursing a cup of coffee while I looked out of my bedroom window. The view made me love living in a small town. It was about the only thing that did, but something had to give.

I raised the mug to my lips and sipped, casting my gaze over the countryside. It stretched for miles, and the sun used the greenness as its own personal canvas as it rose, painting it in hues of orange and yellow.

It was beautiful.

Unlike the thoughts that were running through my head. I was completely terrified for today. Between wanting to know if Lucifer was okay and trying to avoid ever opening my mouth in front of Isaac, lest I say something stupid.

I finished my coffee and headed downstairs. It was approaching seven-fifteen, and I had my plan all figured out.

I was going to head over to Isaac’s, very carefully control my words, then hopefully bring Lucifer home.

And that would be the end of it.

It was a foolproof plan—not that anything being foolproof had ever stopped me screwing up before. However, this time, I was fresh off a cup of coffee, freshly showered, and wearing my take-on-the-world panties.

AKA, bright blue cotton briefs with lipstick print all over them.

A girl wanted to be comfortable while she was taking on the world.

It was no good if you had to stop to pull your thong out of your ass, was it?

I slipped my flip-flops on and made sure to pick up my keys so I didn’t lock myself out. Deep breaths followed; I was not going to mess this up.