It was becoming a habit of his; coming to his home later after 9 o’clock, work had him over the real world, but today was different, way different than any other day; it was his birthday and he was working overtime.

You tried to act as if it wasn’t a real big deal, trying to get busy with college work, helping your mother with her garden and her new flowers, but every once you would turn around and stare at his house that was just across the street from yours in the cul-de-sac.

Every once in a while, you would sneak out of your house through the window of your room and go to his house, quietly so his daughter wouldn’t hear no suspicious activity, because yes, Joel was nearly fifteen years older than you, with his whole life done, even with a daughter, in the other had, you had barely even started your life, college being the first adult step.

No one could ever think of a possibility of you and Joel having some sort of connection.

It would be unbearable, the neighbors, his daughter, your mother.

You simply couldn’t get away from him, from his strongly manly scent, his strong and broad arms, his calloused and rough hands roaming around your soft skin, his sweet words he would only whisper with that deep voice and thick accent whenever you were wrapped around him in his bed.

So when he hadn’t even sent a text earlier, you hadn’t seen his truck in the driveway since earlier that morning, you sent him a message.

“Been busy with work.” Joel sent a message back, as usual, dryly with nothing more but what he needed to say.