I stand in the kitchen, mixing eggs in a coffee mug with a fork, when I hear the guest bedroom door creak open.

Jesse stumbles out, shirtless, those dark locks tousled as he presses his fingers against the side of his head and moves his hand in circles like he’s trying to ease a migraine. Considering he and Ty headed out to drink some more last night, I figure he needs some relief.

I grab a bottle of ibuprofen from beside the sink, the one Ty brought back to the condo when he had his hangover a few days earlier.

“I think you might need a little bit of this,” I say, setting it on the bar.

I head to the cabinet and fetch a glass, filling it with water before placing it before him as well. His lips curl upward and he chuckles softly, like he’s amused I’ve caught him so obviously hungover. “Thanks.”

He sits on the stool on the other side of the bar, fishing some ibuprofen out of the bottle before downing it.

I head back to my work at the stovetop. “I was gonna make omelets this morning if you wanted one,” I offer.

“Omelets. Oh really? The many talents of Eric Westright?”

“Very many talents,” I assure him, glancing over my shoulder to make eye contact with him while simultaneously reminding myself how wildly inappropriate this is.

I was pleased after our talk last night. Finally, we had a chance to ease that tension I’d created when I pushed him away, as well as clarify we’re both on the same page: that despite being physically attracted to one another, we realize we can’t do anything about it.

But a conversation can’t change how attracted I feel toward him, especially as he sits, resting his elbows on the bar, his thick biceps and triceps bulging, on full display. I’m sure he didn’t think about it before stepping out of the bedroom, but a part of me feels like he’s not wearing a shirt just to torment me.

“Did you boys have a good time after I went back home?” I ask.

“Just more drinking,” Jesse assures me. “At least I actually brought him home with me this time.”

“I can hear you talking about me,” comes from behind the door of the master bedroom before it opens and Ty walks out. He gives Jesse a foul expression, clearly teasing him. Then his eyes scan the bar before zeroing in on the ibuprofen. “Ahhh, there she is. Exactly who I need to see.” While he slides onto the stool beside Jesse, I pour him his own glass of water.

“I’m making omelets. You guys both want one?”

“That would be wonderful,” Ty says.

“I’m curious to see these mad omelet skills you have,” Jesse adds.

I can hear the playfulness in his tone, one I’ve become familiar with even within our relatively brief interactions. Too brief.

I like the way he pushes my buttons, and it only makes me wish I could push some of his.

I wish I could shake those sorts of thoughts. Our conversation last night should have killed any hope I had of doing anything with him, but I can’t still the primal impulses that leave me desperately wanting his body against mine, something I’m assured of by the way my dick shifts in my jogging pants. Just need to remind myself to stay turned toward the stovetop so that neither of them catches on, especially Ty.

“You want some coffee?” Jesse asks Ty, hopping up and heading to the counter opposite Ty, to the coffee maker, which already has a full pot on it.

I turn to him. “Oh, I can get that.”

“No, no, I got it.”

His eyes drift down to my crotch and then meet mine. His lips are curled slightly upward, as though he knows he’s responsible for the bulge. It’s just an instant that we exchange a look, one that’s surely too quick for Ty to catch, but as Jesse turns toward the cabinets and pulls out coffee mugs, I turn to Ty and see him scrolling on his phone. I’m relieved because if he saw me, he might be wondering why I’m blushing. I turn back to the stove.

After Jesse pours himself and Ty coffee, they share a little about their adventures the night before, surely PG-ing it down for Ty’s old man.

I feel a lump form in my throat as I decide to ask something that’s been on my mind since before either of them got up. All through my jog earlier, and through the shower after I got back, I kept imagining how to say it so that it would sound casual.

“You guys wanna go hiking today?” Such a simple question, yet so fucking desperate because what I’m really asking is: Ty, do you want to spend some time with me? Something I hope he wants.

“Oh, that’ll be really cool,” Jesse says, but Ty appears to be mulling it over, as though he’s not sure he wants to spend the time with me. His hesitation is the reason why I kept playing over and over again in my head how I would bring it up…or if I even should.

“There’s a really cool, secluded area where I typically go hiking, and there are beaches farther back,” I add. “It’s not really well known by the tourists, so I thought it’d be cool to go hiking back there and maybe catch up.”

Ty’s expression relaxes. I hate that it’s like this. That my own son is reluctant to spend time with me and has to think twice whether that’s something he even wants. I understand his reasons, and he has every fucking right to struggle with this, but it’s been a constant tug-of-war with him since we first met one another. I feel like I’m pulling as hard as I can, but his pull against me is twice as strong, dragging me to the ground, into the mess of a life I’ve made for myself.

“If Jesse wants to go, I’ll go,” Ty says.

I catch Jesse’s reaction as he side-eyes Ty, then glances at me. We exchange a silent stare, not nearly as erotic as when he was heading over to pour coffee for him and Ty.

I’m curious how much Jesse knows about my estrangement from my son. What has Ty told him?

Surely he can’t think I’m a complete asshole. Otherwise, I don’t imagine he would have been so willing to roll around in the sack with me. And at the same time, that was only chemistry. That was us acting off pure, uninhibited lust, not thinking logically. Hell, he could totally think I’m this bastard of a guy and still have done all that with me.

“Yeah, I’d really like to go,” Jesse says. “It sounds like it’d be fun. Secluded beach, a little hike. How long is this hike?”

“Not more than forty-five minutes,” I tell him. “I would say closer to twenty, but I have had some friends here who were a bunch of slow asses, and because they were drunk, it took them about an hour to get to the end ’cause they needed to take breaks every five minutes.”

“Yeah, let’s do it,” Ty says. Although he doesn’t sound like he would if Jesse hadn’t been so eager.

It’s enough for me, though. Any chance I have to spend time with him is better than nothing, and I’m thrilled to know it’s an actual possibility now. As happy as I am that Jesse will be tagging along too, there’s a part of me that wishes I could spend some one-on-one time with Ty.

I want to talk to my son. I want to catch up with him about his life, but I feel like he would rather avoid me. I would have thought after seven years’ worth of effort at trying to bridge this gap between us, I would have made some progress, but I haven’t. At all.