He twisted his lips, like his silence twisted my heart. “No.”

Fisher … why?

“Well, it wasn’t a date.” I shoved his chest, forcing him to move out of my way. “But thanks for reminding me how little this means to you.”

“Reese …”

I opened the door, tipped my chin up, and plastered a smile on my face. “Sorry. Problem solved. Now … where were we? Was it my turn?”

“Yes.” Brendon handed me my pool stick as I ignored Fisher’s exit from the utility room.

“Nice meeting you, Brendon. You two have fun.”

I clenched my jaw, trying to hide my slight wince at his words while keeping my back to him.

“Thanks. Nice meeting you too.”

It was really nice that they got along so well. Brendon didn’t want to date me because I was too young for him. And Fisher didn’t want my virginity because he wasn’t in that business anymore. I felt a little rejected.

After Brendon won three games in a row, I drove him back to the church.

“Thanks for lunch. Again, I would have paid for mine.”

He opened his door. “It was my pleasure.” Pausing for a second he narrowed his eyes and lifted his gaze to mine. “What if…” he pressed his lips together, again pausing for a second “…our age difference didn’t really matter? What if we did this again, but we called it a date?”

“A date?” I echoed in a soft tone just before taking a hard swallow. “I … well … maybe we can discuss it next weekend after church.”

“Discuss it?” He laughed a little. “Wow, you really take dating seriously. Since we both have cell phones now, how about we exchange numbers and discuss it this week before church next Sunday?”

I thought about Fisher. Then, I thought about Rory before nodding. With his number and several social media follows, he grinned and closed the door. At any other time in my life, I would have been thrilled to have met Brendon. He was closer to my age. Employed. And he attended church. I also felt certain that he wasn’t a crude talker.

On the way home, I gave myself a pep talk. It involved ignoring Fisher until Monday morning. Eating dinner alone. And going to bed early with a book or my current crossword puzzle.

So much for pep talks …

The second I climbed out of Rory’s car, I marched straight to his front door and rang the doorbell. A few seconds later, he opened the door, eyeing me from head to toe before stepping back and silently inviting me into his domain.

“So … you won’t take my virginity.” It felt weird having that conversation because he’d said something so eerily similar to me. “What will you take from me?”

With a contemplative expression that seemed to border on the painful side, he whispered, “Let’s start with your clothes.”