Somehow, I need to convince that damn preacher to drop the charges.
Chapter 5
Morgan
Youth Service is over and it’s just me and Gabe. I pick up soda cans and stack Bibles in the corner.
Gabe turns on music, but unlike thirty minutes ago, it isn’t Christian Rock. It’s an R&B song. I’m not allowed to listen to that kind of music, and I’m surprised he turned it on.
My chest freezes, because this is what I hoped to avoid: alone time with Gabe. Every instinct in me tightens.
“Hungry?” I say, ignoring the smooth rhythm. I slip my purse over my shoulder. “We can grab some dinner.”
In public.
He reaches for the door, but only to lock it. The click sounds louder than it should.
I close my eyes for a moment, then try again.
“Gabe, what happened last week was fun, but wrong. We can’t do those things again.”
Instantly, the color drains from his face and his brow creases.
He’s hurt and it pains me to see him sad.
“Why not, Morgan? Because you’re worried about what God thinks? We both know the teens that just left here are already having sex. They’ll go to heaven, so why are we waiting?”
“We’re supposed to set an example.”
He shakes his head and moves closer. The room suddenly feels smaller. I hold myself but stand firmly in place.
“Nobody will find out.” He lightly kisses my cheek. His lips linger too long. The edge of his prominent nose is cold against my skin. “It’ll be our secret. We’ll end up together, anyway.”
I scrunch my nose. “We will?”
He nods confidently, then lands another kiss on my temple, more sensually. My stomach knots.
A shiver runs down my spine.
If I am being honest with myself, my body wants to feel more, but the guilt is pressing down too much.
I step back and clutch his shoulders to keep him an arm’s length away. My palms are damp.
“I’m not ready.”
“Then we can do that other stuff,” he pushes.
“You’re not listening to me.”
“I am, but this is us. We’ve known each other since we were kids. It doesn’t matter.” He swipes my hands off of his shoulders and moves close once more. The gentleness isgone. His hands reach for my dress pants, and he tugs the button open.
“Stop,” I say in a hushed but panicked tone.
He doesn’t.
He holds my waistband and kisses my mouth at the same time. I bend backward to escape.
Cold air hits my legs as he jerks my pants and underwear down in a swift motion.
