Just a Number

I’ve always been a people pleaser, but divorce and a job that doesn’t set my soul on fire, leave me feeling lost.

While my friends seem to be enjoying everything that comes their way, my life is… vanilla.

So, when my son’s tattooed friend rolls up on his motorbike, needing a bed for the night, I can’t seem to say no.

I mean, what’s the worst that can happen?

It’s not like he’ll move in, charm me with that smile, and make me wonder what magic he can get up to with those potter’s hands.

It’s not like he’ll bring out a side of me I didn’t know existed.

It’s not like my son will find out and hate what we’ve done.

It’s not like I’ll fall for him, but have to let him go because he deserves to live his life to the full.

Anyway, I’m way too old for him to want anything more than some fun in the bedroom.

But he keeps reminding me that age is just a number.

And I can’t help but wonder if sending him away might just be the worst decision I’ve ever made.