Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87921 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87921 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
It’s quiet for a few moments and the hairs on the back of my neck rise, telling me the conversation is just about to switch. She sets her beer on the coffee table, takes a deep breath, and says, “I think you’re in love with him, Jackson.”
I roll my eyes even though I’m pretty sure she’s right. “How would you know that?”
“Because I know you. You were different with him. You were happy. For the first time in your life, you were living for yourself. If that wasn’t enough to tell me, I would see it in the dimness in your eyes. The sadness. You’re too good of a man to be so sad.”
“I’ll get over it,” I tell her. I have to. And then, “I’m fine.”
“You shouldn’t have to get over it.”
“Zane—”
“Is an adult who needs to get over himself. He’s a stubborn little shit just like his father is. Hates to admit he’s wrong. Digs in deep so he doesn’t have to admit it. You need to talk to him. Sort this shit out and then go talk to that man who helped you find yourself. And if Zane can’t understand that, you still need to do it for you. You deserve to be happy too, Jackson.”
I really fucking want to be happy.
“Did he tell you what happened that night?” I ask.
“He’s confused,” Steph says, which means yes. “Explain it to him. He’ll understand. If he doesn’t, that’s okay. He doesn’t have to get it. I don’t have to get it. You and Derek are consenting adults. That’s all that matters.” She nudges me with her foot. “Plus, daddy kink is hot.”
A loud laugh jumps out of my mouth.
“Tell me about him,” Steph says, so I do. I tell her about Charlie-boy and Derek’s sense of humor. About his love of animals and his uncle, Randy, and how we watch old movies together. I tell her about our dance classes and how there’s never a dull moment with him and his friend who makes comics about us. I tell her how he makes me feel like a different person, a better person, a freer person. Like I can be wild and crazy in ways I never believed I could…and how fucking good it feels to be there for him. To hold him. To hear him call me Jackson…and Daddy. Every word I speak makes my heart bleed more.
Christ, I’m really fucking in love with him.
How the hell did I let that happen?
When I’m finished, Steph smiles at me. “He sounds perfect for you.”
“Are you kidding? He doesn’t. He sounds like the complete opposite of me.”
“The tone of your voice makes him perfect.” She pushes to her feet. “You’re a smart man with a big heart. Listen to it. Tell your brain to quiet down and do something for yourself, Jackson, before it’s too late.” Steph leans forward and kisses me on the cheek. “I’m going to bed. You’re drunk. Sleep on the couch or in Zane’s room.”
“I will,” I tell her. She grabs blankets for me before going to the room we used to share together. I lie in the dark, on the couch, thinking about what she said. About how I feel. About Derek and Zane and Mom and everything else overcrowding my brain.
It feels like my eyes just close when light sneaks through the blinds and I hear the door open, but I know it’s been longer than it seems. The whole night, obviously. There’s shuffling behind me. I rub my sandpaper eyes and sit up just as Zane walks over and takes the other end of the couch.
“Hey,” I tell him.
“Hey,” he replies.
We’re both sitting with our elbows on our knees. We look nearly identical. We have the same body type and the same light brown hair. The same stubbornness and the same heart too.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Zane asks, his voice cracking. “You’re my best friend, Dad. We talk about everything. When you and Mom kept your pending separation from me, you swore you’d never keep something from me again. We’re a team. That’s what you always said.”
“And we still are, kid. I fucked up. I should have told you, but you’re not innocent in this either. You didn’t let me explain. You haven’t talked to me in two weeks.”
“You didn’t try.”
“You asked for space.” I remind him, “You kept a secret too.”
“I know.” He looks down and his knee bounces up and down.
“You’re gay? Or bisexual?”
“I’m bi.”
“Have you known for a while?” I ask.
“I figure so. I find girls beautiful…and men too.”
“Have you experimented?” I question.
“Yeah.” He takes a deep breath, then turns to look at me. “Did you always know?”
“I did, but your mom was my first. I’d never gotten the chance to experiment or anything until I moved out.”
“You never…while you were with Mom?”