As if on cue, as soon as I stepped out of my car and onto the pavement in front of my house, my phone rang. I pulled it out of my back pocket, which I had absentmindedly forgotten to turn off the night before, and saw Jake’s name on the screen.

“Hello?” I muttered. After waking up this morning, Rhys had his driver take me to my car at the tech company, and I drove back to my house by myself because I’d insisted that Rhys not come with me. After realizing that we were moving too fast this morning, going that far felt like it was too much. And I wasn’t sure I could resist Rhys any longer.

“You didn’t call me when you got home,” Jake said on the other end. “Unless you didn’t come home. That good of a night, huh?”

“You’re not supposed to think about your father that way,” I chided as I fished my keys out of my pocket.

“Also, why didn’t the call go straight through to your voicemail? That’s what I’d expected.” My son knew me too well. I never left my phone on at night. Most everything could wait until morning.

“I forgot to turn it off last night.” I grimaced at Jake’s chuckle, as that gave too much away about what I didn’t forget to do last night. Because I’d been occupied with something else entirely.

I unlocked the door and shouldered it open.

“Wait? Are you home?” Jake asked suddenly.

“Of course I’m home.” Only as of right now, but Jake didn’t need to know that. All I wanted to do was go to my room, climb under the covers, and pretend like I didn’t ruin this morning with Rhys.

Jake stepped into the front entrance from the kitchen, a huge grin on his face. “Good morning, Dad,” he said, followed by the mock-scandalous ooh of a 90’s sitcom audience.

I didn’t have an excuse, except indignation, so all I was able to say was, “Seriously, stop thinking about that.” We both thumbed off our phones at the same time, although Jake looked like he had found me with my hand in the cookie jar.

Triumphant.

“Really, Dad.” Jake spoke as if we were having a natural, everyday conversation and not one with all the awkwardness. “You’re not a kid, and it’s not like he was a stranger. Plus, he is hawt hawt hawt.” I glared at him, interrupting my son’s “hawt” song. Not that Rhys wasn’t hot, but it wasn’t something I wanted to discuss with Jake… ever.

“Is there a reason you came over before the rooster wakes?”

It was, what, seven in the morning? What kind of college student came over to his dad’s house this early in the morning?

“I wanted to see how it went last night,” Jake said, matter-of-factly. Of course he did. After his little shenanigans with setting me up, which in all honesty I owed him for, Jake wanted details. It would’ve been nice if he actually had given me some warning though.

Maybe I would have been more prepared for last night. And this morning. And everything else to do with Rhys Collins.

“About that—”

“You can thank me later,” Jake said off-handedly, swooshing the idea out of the way with an exaggerated hand sweep. “Tell me everything… well, not everything, because ewww, you’re my dad.”

At least Jake had some sense of propriety.

“Yet you accuse me of sleeping with him?” I teased back, hoping to squeam Jake out just enough to end this line of conversation. Hell, I didn’t want to have this conversation with anyone.

“And if it weren’t for you blushing with embarrassment,” Jake surmised, “I would have pictured you two sitting up all night reminiscing about days gone by.”

Once again, Jake knew me eerily well. After making love, Rhys and I had done just that. And more. So much more.

“You watch too many sappy movies,” I muttered.

We both did, honestly. Thursday nights had been devoted to watching all the “make you cry they are so happy” movies when Jake had still lived there. Mostly we talked through them and ate popcorn, but once in a while, we got entrenched in the couple’s search for happily ever after.

“So you didn’t just talk?” Jake sounded coy as he said it.

Whether it was from my son’s prying questions or because I realized what time it was, I ached for the distraction that painting would give. I had vowed to give my dreams a hundred percent this summer if I limited my temp work, and I was going to do so. I already had a handful of completed paintings, not including the ones from class, which were more directed and far less “me.”

But that was probably an excuse to escape Jake.

“Of course we talked.” I pushed my way past Jake and went into the kitchen to make a strong cup of coffee. There was not enough coffee in the world to get rid of the fog I had in my mind.

Jake followed me like a shadow. “And?”

“And nothing.”

Not nothing, of course, but far from something I wanted to share. As far as my son knew, Rhys was just a high school friend who fancied me. I had worked hard to have Jake see his alpha-father for all of the amazing he was, and part of me had always hidden my relationship with Rhys out of respect for that. Not that his time in my life made my time with Jacob any less, but putting any doubt in my son’s eyes seemed unneeded at the time.

“No kiss goodnight?” Annoying kissing sounds followed me around the kitchen, as if any decent kiss sounded that obnoxious. I shook my head and searched the cabinets for the mug I used for my daily coffee. And maybe one for Jake just so I could shut him up.

“No.” And that was as far as I would talk about it.

“Fine if you don’t want to tell me.” The dejection in my son’s voice hurt me, and I realized that he wasn’t just teasing me. It was that he wanted me to be happy. And I went and ruined it this morning.

I sighed.

“It’s not that.” I put the coffee pot under the tap and filled it up. “I’m embarrassed.”

“Sex is natural between two adults who love each other,” Jake said with a shrug. I closed my eyes as the exact words I used while giving my son “the talk” were echoed back to me. “It’s not like I asked if he was into whips and chains.”

“Kill me now,” I groaned, especially as the mental image of Rhys with a whip in his hands made my cock twitch.

“Nope, not until after you tell me what happened.”

“Not a chance.”

“Why not? He’s not married. I asked.” Of course Jake did. As if that would be the only reason not to tell someone. A good reason, but far from exclusive.

“Nosy much?”

Oh, for the days when summer vacation meant exploring the woods together and attending story time. Not talking about my extracurricular activities between two adult men.

“No pivoting,” Jake insisted. “Spill.”

“Fine. After...what happened, he probably feels rejected, and that is that. I probably won’t ever hear from him again.” And there it was, the fear that I’d been avoiding ever since I left Rhys’s house.

Jake stopped and looked at me. “Why? What happened?”

What had I ever done to deserve such a wonderful son?

I masked my emotions with a tight grin. “Because, Mister Nosy, he told me he wanted us to try us again, and five minutes later I fled like a bonehead. How would you feel if someone did that to you?”

That was the sad truth of it. I’d basically slapped Rhys’s declaration in the face, all because I had the maturity of a seventeen-year-old.

“No, why did you run?”

That was the million-dollar question, wasn’t it? After all, I felt comfortable with him. I liked him. He had never been one to push anything, so I had no worries there. Yet flee I did, all because of what? Insecurities? Moving too fast?

It wasn’t like I was getting any younger. Still though...

“Do you know how long it has been since I allowed myself to be in the position to be...with someone?”

“Too long?”

Too long was an understatement. Not that I would change my past actions. I had done what was right for my son at the time.

“Well, anyway, I panicked. Done.”

“I’m pretty confident it’s not done.” Smug. My son sounded smug. What the hell?

I couldn’t take it anymore and excused myself to quickly take care of the business that I had been holding in since I left Rhys’s and, more importantly, have a moment to collect my thoughts. Alone, I took the time to reflect on my thoughts, but nothing really came out of it.

Other than that business being taken care of.

“Sorry, I’m back,” I said as I came back into the kitchen.

My son scoffed at me, but I ignored it, bringing the conversation back to the topic at hand. And back to Jake’s confidence about it not being done.

“And why isn’t it done, oh wise one?” I shouldn’t ask, I knew that. But curiosity always seemed to best me.

“Because Stephen texted me for your address this morning,” my son replied as if it were the best news ever.

I stilled. “Why would he do that?”

Stephen had no reason to stop by or to send anything my way. It was just plain weird, unless he was like the secretaries in the movies who took care of ordering the flowers and such. Would Rhys be sending me flowers? No, I wouldn’t let myself get sucked into thinking like that.

It could only lead to heartache when it could easily mean it meant nothing at all.

“Because the two of us have decided to make sure you guys end up together.”

No flowers then. I admittedly felt a little deflated. And apparently, Jake was friends with Rhys’s ex-husband. Nothing could possibly go wrong there, right?

“I don’t even wanna know why you two are in cahoots.” Except I really truly, honestly, and for true did. I was that teenaged omega all over again.

“Yes, you do, but I’m going to leave it there.” Of course Jake was. “But speaking of Stephen, he’s kind of why I’m here.” As if Jake’s visit couldn’t get any stranger. “Want to go to his husband’s gallery with me next month? They are having a showing. I think you would enjoy it.”

And yet, somehow, the visit just got even weirder.

“You’re up to something,” I said suspiciously, which was the understatement of the year.

“I’m just trying to parlay dinner out of you.” Jake was amused. “Twice, if I’m sweet enough. Tonight and the night of gallery.”

“And why would I want to go to Rhys’s ex-husband’s husband’s gallery next month?”

“He takes on a new artist every month.” Jake gave a nonchalant shrug. “I thought you might want to connect with him. Especially since he’ll have an opening soon for someone new.”

My head was spinning. my high school sweetheart had married an omega who left him for a man who now owned a gallery and was also friends with my son who wanted me to get an exhibit there.

Was that what was happening?

Either the world was far smaller than I knew, or I was missing a key piece of information.

“How do you even know him?” I ventured,

“Scott’s mom runs a cleaning service, and one of her clients is Marko, Stephen’s husband,” Jake answered off-handedly. “Anyway, last semester, Scott and I were helping out his mom to make extra money for spring break. One of my jobs was cleaning Marko’s studio. One day, we got to talking, and I told him how Scott and I were looking at the tech field. He mentioned Stephen, and that was how we ended up finding out about the internship.”

As convoluted and odd as it sounded, it made sense. Scott’s mom worked predominantly in the old part of town where many artsy-type businesses flourished.

“He got you the internship?” I asked, feeling very self-conscious that I hadn’t known that bit of information. “I need to meet him and give him my thanks.”

Jake shook his head. “No, Marko told us about the internships, and we got them on our own. But yes, you do want to meet him, but remember, he is married.” He chuckled at his own joke.

“Yeah, to my ex’s ex-husband.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Fine. I’ll go. What day?”

If I had a long enough lead time, I could manage to paint some new pieces and take some semi-decent photos of my work to bring along with me, if the right moment arose. My paintings were unique in their lack of concrete subject, and they could very easily not be a good fit for the gallery.

Although, after seeing Stephen’s husband’s own artwork, it might just be the perfect place.

I tried keeping a handle on my hopes.

“I’ll text you all of that,” Jake said. Of course he would. No one just took down information anymore. “Are you working today?”

“Yes, but not at the temp agency.” The coffee dinged that it was done, and I poured both Jake and me cups of coffee. I would need to make my way to the sunroom because the sun was beginning to rise. I loved to work at that time of day. Everything just felt more possible by the new light. “I’m painting today.”

Jake took his mug from me. “Good for you, Dad. It inspires me to see you jumping in with both feet like this.”

One day, I would tell Jake how it was his poem that had inspired me, but only after I achieved a few milestones. Knowing Jake, if I failed to make it, Jake would blame himself, and nobody needed that. In my mind, I had already won. If not one painting sold, I had found my passion again, and that was everything.

“What are you doing with the paintings?”

“Apparently, I’m showing them to your friend with the hopes of getting a showing.”

He cocked his head. “Well, then, you’d better get going.”

I grinned at Jake, giving him a hug. And later, after Jake left to go to his internship, I pulled out a new canvas. There was no need for me to close my eyes and wait for inspiration to hit. My day’s inspiration had already arrived last night. Good thing Jake had left before I started.

“He’d never let me live it down,” I muttered to myself. After all, Jake wanted to hear all the juicy detail about the night before.

And here I was, painting them.