“Christ, Rory. She’ll be fine. Stop coddling her.” Fisher yawned and stretched his arms over his head. It made me feel like a twelve-year-old someone snuck into an R-rated movie. Was I old enough to see so much male skin in person? And why couldn’t I stop thinking about what it would be like to have sex with him? That was the truth. And I wasn’t happy that God could read my mind, but I also wasn’t happy that my mind kept going there without my permission.

That Christian academy made it easy to keep my virginity, but nearly impossible to keep my sanity. A focused mind. A clean mind.

Dear Lord, please forgive me for my thoughts. Please fill my mind and spirit with your love and all things that bring you glory.

“Do you feel coddled, Reese?” Rory asked.

Confused?

Sinful?

Anxious?

Yes.

“No. I don’t feel coddled.”

She eyed Fisher with a frown. “See?”

“You’ve been reunited for all of ten seconds. Reese wouldn’t tell you if she did feel coddled.”

The sirens stopped.

“Thank god! I have to pee.” My mom ran out of the back room.

Fisher stood and held out his hand. “We’re alive. Looks like your prayer was answered.”

I didn’t take his hand or give any more attention to his statement because I felt certain that it fell into the fifty percent category that I needed to ignore.

He waited at the door for me to exit the back room. As I squeezed past him, I shot him a quick glance and inhaled deeply, proving that God didn’t answer all my prayers.

“So …” he rubbed his lips together.

I gulped a mouthful of saliva, unable to tear my gaze away from him.

“When do you want to do it?” His voice deepened.

My heart pounded to the point of feeling it in my throat. What if my mom had heard him? I wasn’t having sex with him. And I lost all ability to speak those words because it was the boldest thing a man had ever said to me.

“Start working for me. When do you want to start working for me?” His voice was no longer low. And he slowed his words as if he were talking to a child or someone who didn’t speak English well.

Embarrassed wasn’t the right word to describe how I felt in that moment. More like … mortified. And when Fisher smiled, as if he’d been reading my mind the whole time, I wanted to do physical harm to him. Never had I felt so angry toward another human in my whole life. The most frustrating part? I wasn’t sure why I was so angry with him. For not wearing a shirt? For having a sinful body? For winking and smiling? Maybe talking in a slightly deeper voice, which tripped my imagination, sending it tumbling into a dark, forbidden place.