“Byeee …” I closed the door and headed up front.

The two men in my world, if I could call them that, arrived at the same time. Brendon pulled into the driveway just as shirtless Fisher finished his morning jog. One of them nearly gave me an orgasm.

“Brandon,” Fisher said as my church date rolled down his window.

“Hi, it’s uh … Brendon,” Brendon corrected him.

Fisher knew his name, and the grin he gave me when his back was to Brendon’s window said as much.

“Reese.” Fisher stripped me with one look. I think he also took the rest of my virginity with that same look.

I needed to check on the specifics of getting re-baptized.

Clearing my throat and forcing my gaze to stay on his face instead of his sweat covered chest, I smiled, “Morning, Fisher.”

“You going to confession?” he asked.

“It’s a Christian church. We don’t have confession.”

“Mmm …” He winked before heading into the garage. “A shame.”

Brendon smiled as I climbed into his car. “You look nice.”

“Thanks, you do too.”

He laughed like my reciprocating the compliment wasn’t necessary.

“Thanks for picking me up. I’m having trouble deciding on a car.”

“Oh?” Brendon backed out of Fisher’s driveway.

“Yeah, well … it’s that my grandparents don’t want to give me the money for the car I want, even though it’s my money.”

“What car do you want?”

I stared out the window to my right and shrugged like it was no big deal. “It’s a used Porsche Cayenne.”

“A Porsche?” Brendon choked on his words.

“I want something sporty that can go into the mountains.”

“Reese, I think you can find something a little more practical. After all, you’re eighteen. Don’t blow through your money before you get a chance to make some decisions on your future like going to college. Maybe you’ll want a down payment on a house. Maybe you could invest some of the money.”

Why did he have to sound so sensible—so parental—too?

During the church service, Brendon shared his Bible with me since I forgot mine. At least I got points for forgetting it because it was by my bed because I’d been reading it—all the parts on sins of the flesh.

In Sunday school, we played games, more like twenty questions to test our morals. I did quite well, just because I’d sinned didn’t mean I wasn’t aware of my sins. Some of the other people in class were legitimately clueless. That meant they were ripe for accepting their opportunity at salvation.

“You choose the lunch spot today,” Brendon said as we made our mad dash to the parking lot again to beat the after-church crowd. This time he parked where he couldn’t get trapped.

“It’s hot today. Let’s do something light like a big salad.”