you knew it was wrong. why wouldn’t it be?

he’s your dad’s best friend. his closest buddy. who’s barely even half your age, by the way — he’s in his early forties.

and while ari’s a walking hot mess as a divorced dilf, you’re a struggling college student, in your early twenties — twenty one to be exact.

if him being your dad’s close friend wasn’t a problem, it’d be the age gap.

and normally you’d just throw yourself into your homework to distract yourself from the obvious feelings and intense attraction that you feel towards him, but you can’t.

not this time.

not when you go home to your dad’s for the weekend after you’ve finished your finals and passed with flying colors — only because you studied your ass off to make sure you’d pass and pushed away your feelings for ari.

and now you’re staying in the same house as him, since he’s been around a lot more lately.

which means being around him this whole weekend.

and this little fact doesn’t help you during your first night in your old room.

not when you have a wild sex dream about him — one that leaves you panting and sweating.

with those images not leaving your mind, not once, you stumble out of bed and out of your bedroom and downstairs to the kitchen, hoping to find a way to get it — the things you did with ari in that dream that you’ve only wished for — out.

you just aren’t aware that ari’s downstairs too, who’s on the couch, struggling with his own sleep.

you’re too distracted, though, as you lean your front against the kitchen counter and press your hands over your face in clear frustration with yourself.

“god, what’s wrong with you? get a grip!” you whisper-yell and groan to yourself as you desperately try to push down those images.

then, ari’s getting off of the couch and heading into the kitchen to check on you.

“honey? what’s wrong?” he asks, his voice full of care that he always cares for you, but raspy and rough from sleep — or more like lack of sleep.

he knows you well to know something’s up with you.