Page 112 of Sexting My Ex’s Dad

That matters.

One Friday evening, after Ivy is asleep and Athena is stretched along the couch beside me with her head in my lap and one of my hands trapped under her sweater, she looks up from her book and says, “Do you realize we’ve become disgustingly domestic?”

I glance down at her. “You say that like it’s a threat.”

“It might be. I had a whole personality before this.”

I slide my thumb slowly over the strip of skin above her waistband. “You still do. It just turns out some of it likes me.”

Her book drops onto her chest. “Some of it.”

“Most,” I amend.

She pretends to think about it. “Acceptable.”

I bend and kiss her, slow at first, then slower once she sinks into it. By the time I pull back, she’s smiling in that sleepy, wicked way that always makes me feel like I’m either the luckiest man alive or a complete fool.

Probably both. “Come to bed with me,” I say quietly.

She glances toward the hallway, then back at me. “Give me ten minutes. I need to answer one email.”

“That sounds fake.”

“It’s not fake. It’s annoying.”

I sigh like I’m deeply put upon. “Fine.”

She takes the book, kisses me once more just to make it worse, then disappears into the bedroom.

I stay on the couch for all of three minutes before reaching for my phone. Her name is one of my favorite things in the world now. I still haven’t gotten used to the fact that I can text her something reckless and not spend the next six years regretting silence.

I type, stop, delete half of it, then decide honesty works better.

Nathan: How long is this email?

The reply comes almost immediately.

Athena: Long enough that you should behave.

I smile despite myself.

Nathan: That was never a realistic option.

Three dots appear.

Athena: You are forty-something years old. Please try.

I lean back, already warm all over.

Nathan: I’m lying on our couch thinking about the fact that you’re in my bed and not in it with me. That’s not a condition that rewards virtue.

The dots appear again. Vanish. Come back slower this time.

Athena: Our bed? Bold.

I look toward the closed bedroom door then back to the screen.

Nathan: Correct me if you want. Preferably in person. Preferably wearing very little.