Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
“Is that a problem?” I don’t technically need his permission to kiss someone, but I find myself wanting his approval for some reason.
“Depends on what your intentions are,” he says, sounding older than his newly fifteen-year-old self. “If it’s just to fuck her, then yeah, it’s a problem. Because she deserves better than that.”
I blink once, twice, taking in what my son just said, because holy shit, when the hell did he grow up? I mean, I know how old he is, but I guess I didn’t think about what that means. He’s fifteen and in high school. The same age I was the first time I stuck my dick into a woman.
“Have you had sex?” I ask, ignoring his foul language.
This time, it’s his turn to blink several times while I wait for him to answer. “No,” he finally says, making me sigh in relief.
“You planning on it?”
“Sure not planning to stay a virgin for life,” he deadpans, making me chuckle. Fucking asshole.
“Soon?”
A shrug. Shit, he’s planning to have sex soon.
I think for a moment about how to respond. I have two options: tell him not to, or use this moment to be real with him. I’m not sure what the right way to go is, but I’m learning there are no instructions when it comes to being a parent. You just have to go with your gut, and my gut is telling me that he’s going to have sex—just like I did—whether I give him permission to or not, so it’s probably best to make sure he’s safe about it when he does do it.
“Sex isn’t something you should take lightly,” I begin. When his brows rise to his forehead, I internally cringe at my choice of words—it’s clear my son knows how I’ve been living my life. “What I mean is, while sex can be good, damn good, there’s a lot more to it than just getting your dick wet…” Jesus, I’m fucking this up. “What I’m trying to say is you need to think about STDs, pregnancy…”
Brody groans. “Dad…”
“Don’t ‘Dad’ me. If you’re old enough to have sex, then you’re old enough to discuss it.” Damn, I sound like a dad. “When you have sex, you need to use protection. If you don’t have any, I’ll buy you some. I don’t give a shit if she says she’s on birth control. Things happen, and the last thing you need is to get her pregnant while you’re in high school. Also, STDs are no joke. Some have no cure and can be life-threatening.”
He swallows thickly but nods.
“When you have sex, remember to be good to her. Women, by nature, are romantic. Make sure she gets off first. No woman likes a selfish lover.”
Another audible swallow and nod.
“Do you have any questions?”
He shakes his head.
“All right, well, if you do, I’m here.”
We go back to watching Breaking Bad for a few minutes before Brody clicks pause and looks at me. “You never answered my question.”
I quirk a brow in confusion.
“What are your intentions with Savy?”
“I like her,” I admit out loud for the first time.
“So why don’t you ask her out?”
I laugh at that. “Because I’m not fifteen.”
He rolls his eyes. “Well, maybe you should be... because I’m fifteen, and I have a girlfriend.”
Point well made, kid... Point. Well. Made.
“Dad, this is Savannah Cartwright. Savannah, this is my dad, Olivier Fields.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Savannah says, shaking my dad’s hand.
“You too,” he says back.
I assess him for a moment, noticing the black circles under his eyes. He looks tired... more than the last time I saw him. I make a mental note to talk to him soon—demand to know what the hell is going on with him. Not today, though, since this is about Brody’s birthday.
“There he is!” Amalia saunters in with her husband, Gerald, on her heels, carrying a stack of gifts. She grabs Brody and hugs him. “Happy Birthday, my favorite nephew!”
“I’m your only nephew,” he points out, making everyone laugh.
More introductions are made, and then we’re shown to a private room with a long rectangular grill situated in the center. Several chairs are surrounding the outer perimeter with a wooden bar-like table attached. This restaurant is one where the chef cooks your food in front of you.
Brody sits in the middle, and I sit to the right of him at the same time my dad sits to the left of him, leaving a seat empty for Brody’s girlfriend. He asked me last night if she could join us, and I didn’t see why not. Her parents had to first confirm with me that I would be there and they wouldn’t be left alone, and once I agreed, they allowed her to come. Next to my dad is Amalia and her husband.
“Sav, sit next to me,” I insist, pulling her into a seat. Lucas and Laura sit next to Gerald, leaving two seats open next to Savannah for Brianne and Marcus.