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“Oh, don’t be like that, Banana,” she giggles, using her nickname for me. “I’m just messing with you. To be honest, I’m a little jealous, because you get to live next door to him.”

“Yeah, I guess I’m lucky, though I feel a little creepy watching him,” I admit. I don’t tell her that I was at his house for dinner. “I mean, how would I feel if it were the other way around, and he was watching me undress?”

“Pfft, do you stand naked in front of your open window, stroking your cock?” she asks. I chuckle, loving how blunt my friend is. “No, so it’s not the same. Besides, it’s harmless. He has no idea, and you get some fresh masturbating material. And, if he ever did find out, don’t try and tell me he wouldn’t be jacking off to the thought of you watching him,” she teases.

I flush at the thought. He wouldn’t…would he?

“It’s a win-win, right?”

“Sure,” I sigh. “I better go. I think my dad is home,” I fib. As soon as I say it, I regret it, because I can almost hear her eyes light up.

“Speaking of hot guys…” she giggles.

“Night, Kayla,” I sigh.Chapter Two

Nick

Standing in the kitchen, my heart swells as I watch Milly finish clearing the table after breakfast. She glances up and catches me looking at her. She takes extra care in washing all the soap suds off, sometimes spending a few minutes on each item. I smile because she reminds me so much of her mother.

Marley used to love washing dishes. Never mind the two-grand dishwasher we had; she’d wash everything by hand after nearly every meal because she didn’t trust the machine to do a good enough job. She told me it was therapeutic, that it gave her a sense of accomplishment. She only had to look at our two kids to feel proud of what she’d achieved. They were all her. I just provided the sperm.

“What?” Milly asks. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Because you’re amazing. I wonder every day how you turned out to be such an incredible little girl. You’re so much like your mom, Mills. She’d be so proud of you.” She blushes, which just makes me chuckle. I know I’m embarrassing my little princess, but I don’t care.

“Do you still miss her?” she asks quietly.

“Every day,” I answer honestly. “You?”

“All the time,” she admits. “Sometimes I feel happy, and then I get upset because I shouldn’t be happy with Mommy gone.”

“Mommy would want you to be happy,” I say tenderly. I walk over and give her a hug. “Never feel guilty about finding happiness in something, okay?” She nods, smiling at me as I gaze down at her.

“Good. Now, go get ready for school. I’ll finish up here.”

She kisses me on the cheek and runs off, while I pile the rest of the dishes into the sink to clean later. Either that or I’ll throw them out and buy a new set. Two years, and I still can’t bring myself to actually use the damn dishwasher.Ten minutes later, I load the kids into the car and drive them to school. Max sits in the front because at ten, he feels he’s at the point in life where being older means he deserves more opportunities than his sister. I won’t lie; being a single dad is fucking hard work, but when I look at those two kids and see what amazing little humans they’ve become, all I feel is pride.I pull up outside the school and wait for them to get out. Milly unbuckles her belt and throws her arms around me from her place in the back seat. Max, on the other hand, is anxiously glancing around to make sure nobody is watching him. So, that’s what this is about. He’s making sure none of his friends see him being dropped off to school by “Daddy.” Until then, I had no intention of embarrassing my son, but if he’s expecting it, who am I to let him down?

“Bye, Dad,” Milly says, kissing me on the cheek. Max gets out and stares at me through the window like I’m cramping his style.

“You can go now,” he mumbles, his eyes downcast.

“What? And miss a chance at embarrassing you?” I tease. Unclipping my seat belt, I lean over through the open window to smirk at him. “Come on. Give Daddy a kiss, or I’m walking you up to that door and giving you the biggest hug I can muster.”

His eyes widen in horror. “Please, no,” he begs.

“Okay, compromise. I’ll just walk you to the gate,” I chuckle. “But you have to shake my hand.”

“You’re such a fool,” he groans. “Most parents would be happy their kid wants to catch the bus to school.”

“Yeah, well, kill me for wanting to make sure my kids are safe,” I retort.

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