Something electric courses through me when he caresses my knuckles.
I force myself to clear my throat. "It's getting late. I should get going."
"You should stay the night."
Though I don't want to go home, I say, "Oh, thanks for the offer, but–"
"Allow me to correct myself. You are staying the night." In a softer voice, he adds, "Don't think I haven't noticed the anxious look in your eyes whenever you mention home."
He's a lot more observant than his son. I say without any real conviction, "I wouldn't want to impose…"
He says dryly, "I have five unused guest rooms. You wouldn't be imposing."
To avoid something messy, I should insist on going home.
Instead, I let my ex-boyfriend's dad take my hand, and we go up his long white staircase.
Does some part of me love mess? I'm beginning to think the answer is yes.
WORD COUNT: 6,900
A sexy short story about a young woman and her ex-boyfriend's dad!