Page 49 of Her Possessive Daddies

"What choice do I have? Can't exactly tell him no when he's finally showing interest in something besides partying." Even as I say it, I know how weak it sounds. Twenty-five years of making excuses for my son weighs heavy on my conscience.

"Sure you can. It's called tough love." Donovan pushes a fresh coffee my way, the gesture softening his harsh words. The rich aroma at least promises to be better than my abandoned breakfast.

"Remember when life was simple?" Donovan takes a long sip from his own cup. "Get drunk, fuck around, wake up with a hangover and zero consequences?"

"God, those were the days." The memories of college hit - endless parties, rotating bedmates, no responsibilities. "Now I've got a son who thinks ATMs print money and a girl half my age ghosting me."

"About that. What exactly happened with her?"

My fork scrapes against the plate. "Seth and I... we shared her."

"Shared?" Donovan's look is skeptical. "Like back in college?"

"Yeah. She seemed into it at the time. But now..."

"Now what?"

"Radio silence. Few text responses here and there, but that's it."

"Have you actually seen her since?"

"No." The admission stings.

"You're a fucking moron." Donovan tosses his napkin at me. "You tag-teamed some young thing with Seth and then what - expected her to just bounce back like nothing happened?"

"I didn't want to pressure her."

"So instead you're hiding in your house eating cold eggs? Christ, you've gotten really pathetic in your old age."

"Damn." I push the cold eggs around my plate. "When did I turn into such a pussy?"

"Around the time you started overthinking everything." Donovan pulls out his phone. "Listen, Mindy and I are hitting up that new steakhouse downtown tomorrow night. Why don't you bring your girl?"

"She's not my-"

"Shut up. Text her. Right now."

"A double date?" My stomach knots. "I don't know..."

"What's the worst that could happen? She says no?" Donovan kicks my chair. "At least you'll know where you stand. Better than sitting here wondering if she regrets everything."

He's right. Of course he's right. I grab my phone, staring at our last text exchange from three days ago.

"For fuck's sake." Donovan grabs my phone. "Give me that before you spend another hour crafting the perfect message."

"Hey!" I lunge for it but he turns away.

Dinner tomorrow night at Morton's, 8PM? My friend and his date will join us. No pressure, just good food and company. He hits send before I can stop him. "There. Done."

The message shows as delivered. My heart dances like I'm sixteen asking out my first crush.

"Now was that so hard?" Donovan slides my phone back. "You're welcome, by the way."

Three dots appear. Disappear. Appear again.

Yes, that sounds nice. Thank you for asking.

I release a shaky breath, taking another long draw from my coffee cup. "Christ, could you have warned me before putting me through that?"

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