The morning was much like any other. I woke, dressed, and headed down to cook breakfast. Simon was already in the kitchen, lounging in his dark green bathrobe.
"Well, look at you, being considerate," I quipped, a little too brightly.
He chuckled. "Buddy, even if I were stark naked in here, there'd be nothing for you to worry about. Or... maybe there is? Tell me the truth, buddy, are you gay?"
Heat rushed to my face. My mind scrambled. Reverse psychology? No, too risky. I blurted out, more challenging than I intended, "What if I am, Dad?"
Simon just roared with laughter. "You? Alex, I've known you since you were a year old! I practically raised you, dummy! I'd have known years ago if you swing that way. And even if you were, you'd still be my little buddy!" He ruffled my hair, a familiar gesture, then turned to the fridge and grab something to eat.
"You'd notice if I were gay, Dad," I pressed, a strange boldness taking over. "I'd be happier."
Simon ambled closer, a smirk playing on his lips. "So... are you?" he asked, his tone laced with that sarcastic, teasing laugh of his.
My heart hammered against my ribs. Those gorgeous lips, his green eyes, that face… Was I blushing this much?
"Nah! I'm kidding, buddy!" Simon boomed, oblivious. "I mean... you and Kristine..." He winked and made a crude thrusting gesture with his hips. He laughed again.
"Dad! Stop!" I retaliate, turning away to hide my face, but mostly to hide the sudden, intense flush of perverted thoughts about Simon and me that flooded my mind. I instinctively clenched my fist and lightly pinched my own thigh under the counter, trying to ground myself.
Simon, catching the tail end of my self-reprimand, laughed harder. "What the hell? Don't pinch yourself like that! Unless... OH! I knew it! You finally did it with Kristine at the lighthouse, didn't you?!"
Trapped, I just nodded, a silent lie.
"Hah!" Simon exclaimed, pulling me into a rough, one-armed hug. "I knew you had the guts! Anyway... just don't go giving me a grandchild this early, alright?" He winked, smirking all the way as he finally went to dish out some breakfast for himself.
I let out a shaky breath. I packed my own food; the exams today would be long. Girls often flirted with me at school, and I didn't usually mind. First up was Math. Our advisor, Teacher Jennifer, taught the subject. She was one of those women who clearly had a striking figure but often hid it under shapeless turtleneck sweaters, baggy pants, and a perpetually messy bun of a hair.
She was pretty, though, in a way that reminded me of an older sister—maybe thirty-four or so. Her actual sister, Rosaline, my classmate, sat three seats away, whispering with her "friend," Emil. Our group – me, Kris, Marvin, John, Rosaline, and Emil – usually hung out near the lighthouse, especially after exams.
"Okay, okay," Marvin declared later, as we all sprawled on the grass near the lighthouse after our last exam. "Fuck, Marry,Kill... Teacher Jen, Kris, Emil." He paused dramatically. "I would... fuck Teacher Jen, marry Kris, and kill Emil!"
"Fuck you, dude!" Emil shouted, throwing a clump of grass at him.
"Come at me, bruh!" Marvin retorted, dodging. We all laughed.
"Alright, Alex! Your turn!" Emil prompted.
I pretended to consider it. "Mhh... I would... fuck Teacher Jen, marry Kris, and... kill myself!"
A fresh wave of laughter erupted. "You are so rude!" Kris exclaimed, punching my shoulder playfully.
Just then, Teacher Jen's car pulled up near the access road to the lighthouse. She got out, stretched, and then, to our surprise, started shrugging off her sweater.
"Ros! Your sister!" Emil hissed, eyes wide. Rosaline groaned but looked. Marvin, John, and I couldn't help but stare.
"Man! She's hot!" John breathed.
Jen, now in a pink tank top that did nothing to hide her curves, spotted us. She waved. Kris, ever friendly, waved back enthusiastically.
"Hello, students!" Jen called out, walking towards us.
"Hey, Jen!" a few of them responded.
"My car just died on me," Jen explained with a sigh. "Ros already called a mechanic. Someone named Simon?"
"Oh! That's Alex's hot dad!" Kris blurted out before I could stop her.
"Wait, what?" Jen asked, her eyebrows shooting up as she looked from Kris to me. She and Simon had never actually met; Jen had only moved here about a year ago. I wondered briefly why she traveled so much before her car decided to give up.
Simon's familiar truck rumbled into view moments later. I walked over as he parked. Jen and Simon's eyes met.
"So, what's the problem?" Simon asked, his voice all business but with that underlying warmth.
Jen giggled, her gaze flicking to me and then back to Simon. "Well, no wonder you look so handsome," she said to me, then turned back to Simon, playfully curling a strand of hair. "It seems to run in the family."
"Jen, stop!" I mumbled, feeling my ears burn.
Simon, seemingly unfazed, was already peering under the hood. His work onesie stretched taut across his backside as he leaned in. I glanced, then quickly looked away, but not before noticing Kris and even Jen taking a longer peek. A moment later, Simon unzipped the top of his onesie, shrugging it down to his waist and tying the arms there, revealing a grease-stained white tank top underneath that clung to his muscular torso. Jen bit her lower lip. I felt myself doing the same.
"My gosh, why is he this hot?" Kris whispered loudly to me, then giggled with Jen. "He'll look just like his dad one day too," she added, giving me a quick hug.
I pushed her away as I say, "Get off, cute gecko!" I said.
She just replied with an exaggerated, "Tehee :9!"
Simon, finished with his initial assessment, looked over at me and repeated the crude sexual gesture from the morning. I flipped him off – two middle fingers for emphasis. He just jeered, laughed, and playfully humped the air once. Jen burst out laughing, looking at me with amusement.
"Your dad is very quirky!" she said. "And... he looks incredibly young too!"
"He is. He was five years younger than my mom. Still just thirty-nine," I explained.
"Yeah, Simon's a thirty-nine-year-old widower," Emil chimed in, a little too loudly.
"Emil!" I hissed.
Within minutes, Simon had the car started. Jen tried to pay him, but he just laughed and waved it off, then ruffled my hair again.
"Gotta go, guys... See ya!" I called out, climbing into Simon's truck.
"Damn, that woman is hot,That's Jennifer right? Heard she's like a vixen hidden in a cocoon but I did not realized, she was... wow," Simon commented as we pulled away.
I pinched his ear, hard. "Aw! Aw! Hey!" he yelped, swatting at my hand.
"That's my teacher, Dad!" I said, my voice sharper than intended. No, that's not why I pinched him. I pinched him because I was jealous.
Back home, he headed straight for the bathroom, shedding his onesie, tank top, and finally his boxers in a trail on the floor before disappearing inside. The door clicked shut. My heart pounded. I darted to the discarded clothes, snatching up the boxer briefs. The metallic scent of grease, his musky male scent, the faint trace of that ginger cologne he wore… I buried my face in the fabric, inhaling deeply. Euphoria.
The bathroom door creaked open. Simon stood there, a towel around his waist, eyes bulging. "Uhm... Buddy? Why are you... smelling my worn clothes?"
My mind went blank. "No! I—I was looking for a stain!" I stammered, frantically rubbing a spot on the onesie I'd dropped in my shock. Idiot! Obvious lie!
"Sure," he said slowly, a skeptical eyebrow raised. "You should use Antibac-Sports scent on these... I probably smell pretty bad, though." He paused. "Uhm... Can you pass me a fresh towel from the linen closet?"
"Yeah, sure," I mumbled, retrieving one and handing it to him, avoiding his eyes.
"Thanks," Simon said, then closed the door fully.
I quickly gathered his clothes and threw them in the hamper, my heart still racing. He almost had me! I might die of embarrassment! But... God, his smell is addicting. Too addicting.
Downstairs, he was already sprawled on the sofa in shorts, watching television. I started preparing dinner.
Simon, for once, wasn't drinking a beer. Instead, I caught him looking at me, a soft expression on his face. I felt a blush creep up my neck.
"You know," he said, his voice thoughtful. "You're growing a bit of a mustache and beard... muscling up too. Good." He paused. "You kind of look like I did when I was younger."
Wow, son-zoned pretty quickly there.
Simon chuckled, then reached out and gently pinched the stubble on my chin. "I should have known better. You are, growing faster and faster; and me, I was too depressed to realize it... I want to make sure this last year of your high school is happier, okay?"
My throat tightened. I instinctively reached for his hand, holding it. "I'll be happy as long as you're happy, Simon... I mean, Dad."
He sighed, his eyes suddenly misty. "When did you get so mature? I thank Silvia every day for giving me a son like you." He stood, retrieved a pitcher of orange juice from the fridge, then paused, looking at the calendar on the wall, tapping a date. He returned, his expression shifting.
"I just can't believe you're turning twenty in a few days!" he said, his eyes lighting up. "It means we drink!"
"But I'm not twenty-one yet!" I protested, even though a thrill went through me.
"No, no! We drink when you hit the big two-oh, buddy!" Simon declared, slapping my back harshly. "You'll officially be a MAN! I know what you're thinking, all dirty..." He winked. "I mean, Kris is a bit chubby, but she's got something, eh?"
A hot wave of irritation washed over me, mixed with a confusing flutter of something else entirely at the thought of being drunk with Simon. The images my brain conjured were... spicy. Too much.
"I'm going upstairs," I mumbled, turning away.
"Oh, come on!" Simon shouted after me. "If you really want to get your rocks off, I still have those old DVDs under my bed in the back of the drawer!"
"SHUT UP!" I yelled back, slamming my bedroom door.