Page 35 of Thrust Me Daddy

But it’s also only right and fair that I get to try and make things right.

After all, what kind of Daddy would I be if I just allowed my boy to feel sad, send me a message ending the relationship, and then just walk away from the whole thing we had together.

That doesn’t sound right.

That doesn’t sound rightat all.

‘Okay, I think our man is formulating a plan,’ Ranger says, exchanging glances with Reece. ‘So you gonna call Mikey? Make things right?’

‘No,’ I reply, my voice full of controlled passion. ‘I’m not calling him. Or messaging either. I’m going to see him face to face.’

‘But…he’s out on a delivery?’ Reece says.

‘He is,’ I continue. ‘But going off the time he sent the message, and the route he’s on, I’m guessing that my boy is going to be making himself comfortable in his favorite out of town diner in a couple of hours from now.’

‘Oh hell yeah,’ Ranger says, high fiving with Reece. ‘We’re into romcom territory here, brother.’

‘Maybe,’ I say. ‘But I need to restore my baby boy’s faith in me. And what better way to do that than prove to him that I’ll travel any distance to make time for us to spend time with one another.’

‘Holy shit, you’ve really fallen hard for Mikey, haven’t you?’ Reece says, a knowing look on his face. ‘You want him to be your Forever Boy.’

‘See you guys tomorrow,’ I say, not wasting a single second. ‘I’ve got some serious ground to cover. It’s time I filled the 911’s tank and took her out on the road like I used to back in the day.’

‘Good luck, brother,’ Ranger says, raising his coffee to toast me.

‘Go get your damn boy,’ Reece adds, raising his glass.

I don’t need any further encouragement.

It’s time for me to get back to mine, fire up my Porsche, and get this show on the road.

‘Should I stop and send at least a text…’ I say, pushing ninety on the freeway as I power on toward the turn off that will bring me closer to the diner – and to Mikey. ‘No, no time. And I need to surprise Mikey. He needs to see me with fresh eyes.’

As I continue to drive, I think back to one of my first friends in the surf world, a wise man by the name of Paolo Jacobs. I was a fresh faced twenty-one year old and Paolo was in his early fifties, but as fit as any man on the water.

Paolo saw that I was a bit of a lost soul, and quickly took me under his wing. At that stage of my surfing career, I had all the flash but none of the substance.

For me, surfing was purely about self-expression and pulling off the wildest trick or doing the most flamboyant move.

But Paolo showed me the real truth of surf life.

Paolo had been surfing for the best part of four decades and had forgotten more than most other people would ever know about surfing – me included.

As I learned to respect the ocean and treat it as my best friend, I came to understand that I could find peace in the water in a way that had never been possible in my life up to that point.

So rather than being the rebellious surfer that many saw me as, I came to understand that I was actually a deeply respectful,calm person who was able to find solutions, feel peace, and live his best life in the water.

Sadly, Paolo passed away in his sixties.

And maybe at times since his passing I’ve lost track of his teachings too.

My years spent chasing boys and looking for the quickest, hottest hookup would probably be an indication of my failings. And my inability to find something to work alongside my love of surf too.

But as I drive toward the diner and hopefully a meeting with Mikey, I can hear some of Paolo’s wisest words come flooding back into my head.

In fact, it kind of feels like Paolo’s here in my 911 with me right now.

‘Talk to me, Paolo,’ I say, a wistful but hopeful tone in my voice. ‘Help me. Give me the words I need.’

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