Page 53 of Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang Us, Daddy

“You’re sure?”

He nods, his gaze flicking back and forth between Benji and myself. “Absolutely.”

CHAPTER 12

NATE

The car ride home is spent in relative silence. That’s not to say the atmosphere is tense. Far from it, actually. Benji and Bennet are buckled into the back seat, each of them cuddling affectionately with their new teddy bears. Seeing them so carefree while building their bears was one of the highpoints of my life. In a little over two months, I’ve managed to heal their heartbreak. I patched over the cracks Benito left behind, and I’ve got them smiling again.

We left the mall an hour later than I intended, mainly because I couldn’t get my boys to stop touching my newly shaved head long enough to drive us home. For fifty minutes, my Bens kissed and caressed my head, telling me I was beautiful. It’s been a really long time since I’ve heard those words, and hearing the sincerity in their voice, I think I’m starting to believe them. Seeing myself in the mirror for the first time felt like I was looking at a stranger. Pride flooded my body, because right behind me, Benji and Bennet were staring at me like a piece of meat. I truly believe they would have shoved me to the ground, ripped open my khakis, and rode me to the end if I’d allowed it.

I think I would have allowed it.

The closer we get to the house, the faster my heart races. My Bens are expecting some form of intercourse tonight. While I’m definitely on board, I worry my erectile dysfunction might end the night before it’s even begun. I know Bennet and Benji have said they won’t judge my penis, should it fail to rise, but that doesn’t make it any easier. What kind of a man would I be if I couldn’t fuck them? It’s what they crave. It’s what their bodies need, and there’s a very good chance it’s something I won’t be able to provide.

I can still see Lindsay’s disappointed eyes after the first few times my phoenix refused to rise from the ashes. Disbelief at first, then, the longer she played with it to no avail, disdain. She resented me for it, but it’s not as if I purposefully caused it. It wasn’t like I threatened my flaccid penis with amputation if it got hard. Toward the end, we just gave up altogether.

So far, I’ve had no erectile issues with my Bens. I think part of me is holding out hope that this is simply down to a potential sexual awakening on my part.

I’ve spent quite a bit of time researching demisexuality since my meeting with Mr. Brooks. I’ve taken to Facebook groups, Instagram influencers, and, finally, to Reddit. There are others like me, it seems. Men who didn’t realize they were some shade of the rainbow until later in life. There are other men who have never been able to achieve or maintain an erection before feelings for their partner blossomed.

I’m not much of a religious man, but that doesn’t stop me from sending up a prayer that this is the case. All I want is to be everything my boys need. Friend. Father. The best dang lover they’ve ever had.

“You’re nervous.” A hand touches my shoulder, and when I look behind me, Benji’s giving me a warm smile. “Don’t be worried, okay?” He unbuckles his seat belt and leans forward, kissing the side of my face. As if he’s trying to hide his wordsto protect my pride, he presses his lips against my ear and whispers, “If you have trouble tonight, it’s okay, baby.” He brings his arm around my chest, holding on tightly from behind. “Just like we don’t have to worry with you—you never have to worry with us. Okay?”

I pat his hand with mine. “Thank you.” I come to a stop at a red light which gives me the chance to lift his hand from my shoulder to my lips and give it a gentle kiss. “I’m okay. Promise.”

Through the rearview mirror, I watch Bennet staring down at his new teddy. He’s got the slightest smile on his face and it seems like he’s trying to dilute his emotions. I don’t say anything because I don’t want him to know I’ve interrupted this moment. It’s hard, though. Especially when he leans in and rubs his nose against his bear’s snout and whispers something I can’t make out. I could watch him like this for the rest of my life. Just tuck myself away in a dark corner and observe his every move.

Good Lord, I’m just as depraved as Tatum, aren’t I?

Once we’re back at home, Bennet immediately cuddles up on the couch with his bear. He invites me over, but I’ve got something I have to do first. The front door slams behind Benjamin and when I look back, he’s rushing to his room, claiming he wants a moment alone with his new friend. I make a pit stop in the kitchen to grab a bottle of water, then I take the stairs two at a time, ready to put my plan into action.

Upstairs, I strip down to my underwear and toss my clothes in the hamper, though I’m not really sure what the point is. Since the Bens started sleeping in here, the place looks like a warzone. Clothes hang off bedposts and the dresser. Bennet’s pink briefs are on the foot of the bed. Benji left a crop top dangling from the lampshade. It’s chaos on every level, but I like the chaos. I love the way they’ve flipped my life and home upside down in the short time they’ve been here. They’ve breathed new life in me. When I turned forty, I thought that was it. I assumed Lindsayand I would fall into comfortable familiarity, and ride it out until the end.

Things changed, though. Or, rather, she changed. Maybe I changed, too. Maybe I wasn’t the man she fell in love with. It isn’t fair for me to lay all the blame at her feet. It isn’t as if I truly fought for our marriage. I knew we were sinking, and I made no attempt to patch the holes in our relationship.

What Bennet, Benji, and I share isn’t healthy. While I’m under no illusion that we’re anything other than codependent—I simply don’t care. I want to care for them. I want to be their refuge in a way I never was for my wife. Does that make me a terrible person? Probably, but it’s the God’s-honest truth. The love I feel for my boys transcends anything I felt for Lindsay, even at the beginning. I’m harder than I’ve ever been, and that’s down to them. I can’t explain it, and I have no desire to psychoanalyze what any of this means.

I love them. It’s the only thing that matters. The men they are, the ones they’ll eventually become—I do and will love them with the entirety of my heart. And I want to be right there at their sides, watching their lives unfold like a Hallmark movie.

There’s a knock on my door, and when I look up in the mirror, I see Benji leaning against the doorframe, staring at me like I’m an icon. Something precious to be treasured.

“You all right, buddy?”

He looks away, and I can already tell something’s worrying him. It’s written all over his face. It’s right there in his scrunched-up brow. In the way he tugs at the tail of his shirt and stares down at his hand. The way his jaw trembles the longer I look into his eyes. I take a seat on the bed and pat the empty space beside me. He shuffles over, sliding one foot in front of the other instead of simply lifting his legs up and walking. Unfortunately, he’s wearing socks, so the second his skin touches mine, static electricity pops, startling both of us,but we soon settle next to each other, our thighs touching, hands resting atop, my pinkie reaching for his. The second our pinkies twist together, I’m more at peace than I’ve ever been. Having him here—my Benji. My son. My potential lover—right next to me, well . . . it sends my insides fluttering.

“Tatum called,” he whispers. I knew the call would come. Tatum had been insistent earlier. He’s coming home, and I’m terrified of what this will mean for our family. I can’t lose Tatum, but I can’t lose my boys, either. They’re all I’ve got left.

“How long?” I tighten my pinkie around his, refusing to let this moment slip away.

“He’ll be here in the morning. You won’t . . .” Benji sniffles, and the sound of it feels like a gunshot to the chest. Forget pinkies. I grip his hand as tightly as I can without hurting him. “You won’t let him talk you into breaking up with us, will you? I know he’s your son, but this—we’ve wanted this for so long. We’ve wanted a family of our own for forever, and now that we’ve got it, we don’t want to lose you.” He sniffles, but my good boy doesn’t look away. He stares me right in the eyes like a man. “Ican’t lose you, Nate.”

It feels like he’s just stabbed me in the heart. I amNOTNate to him. I don’t think I ever have been. We both know who I am. Who I was born to be.

Their Saddy. No. Their dad.

“It’s Dad,” I remind him, because I can’t stand the thought of going back to being Nate to him. “Please don’t call me that again, Benjamin.” My words aren’t harsh. I’m not angry with him—I’m frightened. Frightened of losing him. Of losing that connection. “It breaks my heart, buddy.”

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