Jett
I had sent Diane a message on the app as Lloyd while she was on the plane to wish her a safe trip. It’s still red, which I’ve learned means she hasn’t read it yet. I certainly understand why.
We messaged for hours the other night. It was really nice. She’s fun and witty. She challenged me and put a smile on my face. I loved hearing about her daughter. She speaks about her with so much pride. It sounds like they’re extremely close.
I hope we continue to talk when the dust settles on her current situation.
My plan is simple. I want her to fall for me before I reveal my true identity.
I’m hoping she’ll be in too deep to back out once she finds out.
I won’t fully lie to her—it’s not who I am—but avoiding my real name and a photo should be easy given that she doesn’t want to reveal herself either.
I’m not sure why she removed her photos—she’s gorgeous—but she did, and it works well for me.
Is this like me at all? Nope. Is it a bit childish? Most definitely. But I’m attracted to every single thing about her. I just want a chance with her, and this feels like the only way I’ll get one.
I didn’t get to experience my twenties the way every other man I knew did. I was saddled with a wife I barely knew and only tolerated by twenty-two. We had Kennedy shortly thereafter. I never had that excitement and anticipation of something new and special. Until now.
My phone rings, and I quickly look at it. My shoulders fall when I realize it’s Leo. I know Fallon won’t call me back—I told her she didn’t need to in the voicemail—but I’m still disappointed it’s not her.
I answer, “Morning, buddy.”
“Morning. Holy crap, did you see the news today?” he asks.
“Yes. It’s terrible.”
“I pray the kid is okay. It sounds like she’s pretty banged up. Tanner might be a competitor of mine, but I don’t wish this shit on him. I hope he wasn’t drinking. He’ll have an even bigger nightmare on his hands if he was.”
That hadn’t occurred to me. “Right. Let’s hope not. The official statement from her team is that she drank too much and he was giving her a ride home.”
“True, but you and I both know those statements can be bullshit. Anyway, I know what your answer will be, but my old lady said she has a friend who—”
“Nope. Not interested,” I interrupt. “Don’t even start this crap with me, Leo. It’s too early for that, and I haven’t had enough coffee.”
He sighs. “Yep, I told her as much, but she begged me to ask. This woman is supposed to be attractive, and you need to get out there.”
“I…umm…I’m talking to someone.”
He practically gasps. “What? Who?” he asks with a little too much excitement.
“No one I’m ready to talk about.”
He moans. “Ugh. You’re so boring. Can’t you ever just be a dude and give me some down-and-dirty details? I’ve been married for twenty-five years. I need to live vicariously through you.”
“Negative. That will never happen. I’m not Humblecut, who talks about his conquests every damn day. You’d love our locker room. Most of those guys don’t have any class and talk about women like they’re objects. I hope every single one of them has a daughter one day. It changes how you view women.”
“Then I guess it’s a good thing I only have sons. Speaking of which, Mikey mentioned that Pierce has been doing well lately.”
I appreciate that Leo always has his son keeping an eye out for Pierce.
Despite being in the same grade, they’re not close—Michael moves in a faster crowd—but he’s always looked out for my son.
“Thanks, man. It’s been a long road, but I think he’s finally in a good place.
Having Kennedy home has done wonders for him.
They seem to be forging a bond. It’s just what the doctor ordered for him. ”
“Yeah, Mikey said she was at the game the other night. I’m happy for you.”
“Thanks, bud. It was a special night. It was an uphill battle to get there, but we did it.”
He’s silent for a brief moment. “Jett, you’re a good man. You’ve given up a lot in your life by doing the right thing. I hope you know it’s okay to take something for yourself. You know I just want you to be happy.”
“I know. I appreciate it.”
“Dating can be fun.” He releases a small laugh. “You know what I miss?”
“What?”
“Excitement-filled showers,” he enthusiastically replies.
“I don’t need to know what goes on in your showers,” I grumble.
He chuckles. “Not that. It’s the feeling you get before a big date. You’re in the shower imagining all types of great scenarios because the possibilities are still endless.”
I think about that for a moment. “I’m not sure I’ve ever had that.”
He sighs. “I know you haven’t, even at the beginning with Ginny. Everyone should have an exciting shower moment. I hope you find someone who makes you dream big in your shower.”
I’m silent as I consider the fact that I’ve never had anything of the sort.
“Listen,” he pauses, “I know you have your hands full, but I got a few more offers for you to promote muscle supplements and protein bars. Your game was nationally televised last week and considering that you’re more muscular than half your players, my phone has been ringing off the hook for days. Any interest?”
“I think you know the answer to that.” I’ve never once accepted an offer like it.
He sighs in resignation. “Yeah, yeah. Jett, there’s a real market out there. How many men your age are as fit and muscular as you? Let me answer for you. None. The money is amazing. Don’t you want to know how much before you reject them all?”
“Nope,” I immediately answer without hesitation.
“I have plenty of money. I’m not a spokesperson, and I won’t promote products I don’t actually use.
It feels deceitful. It’s all a bunch of bullshit.
My fucking kid buys his clothes based solely on some young punk on social media telling him to buy them. It’s crap, and I want no part of it.”
He chuckles. “Mikey too. I keep seeing TikTok Shop charges on my credit card. This stuff ain’t cheap.
If Ginny keeps getting plastic surgery, you might need to do a few of these things.
Or,” he adds in his usual disapproving tone, “you could stop paying for your ex-wife’s countless procedures.
You’re not contractually obligated to do so. ”
I scrunch my face in disgust as I scratch my head. “I know. It’s really getting to be a bit much. She doesn’t need it. I think it’s become an addiction, and it doesn’t look good. What happened to aging gracefully?”
My mind drifts to Fallon’s face and body. She’s a natural beauty. Every perfect inch of her.
I can’t seem to get this woman out of my mind, and I don’t want to.
Kennedy is doubled over in laughter. “Oh my god, Double Dees, that’s the funniest thing I’ve ever heard in my life.”
David Debois is one of my closest pickleball friends.
He’s a little over sixty, with a bit of a belly and a receding hairline, but he's a great player. Most people at the pickleball club call him Double Dees because of his initials. Kennedy took an immediate liking to his jovial, over-the-top personality. Dirty jokes are his everyday talk, and she gets the biggest kick out of it. He calls her Triple Dees, which I hate, but she’s begun to enjoy spending time playing pickleball with us, so I try not to complain about his objectifying nickname for my daughter.
Dave winks at me, and I shake my head while mumbling, “I don’t know where you come up with this crap.”
An ATP in pickleball is what you call a high-level shot that goes around the pole, not over the net, and lands on the court for a winning shot.
It’s a bit of a trick play and very hard to do.
I just attempted one and failed miserably.
Dave yelled out, “ATP doesn’t stand for around the penis, Jett.
You’ve got to get it around the real pole.
” For some unknown reason, my daughter is wildly amused by it.
He lets out a laugh before whispering, “Whatever keeps her coming back, buddy.”
Dave knows about my relationship with Kennedy and how badly I want her back in my life. He also knows pickleball seems to be helping in that regard. He’s a good guy, doing everything he can to make it fun and appealing to her. I appreciate him for it.
Kennedy doesn’t help matters when it comes to men objectifying her.
She’s a stunning young lady, standing at over six feet and in great physical shape.
She more than knows it and loves to push buttons and prance around in next to nothing.
I don’t miss the looks she garners from every man in this club.
It takes everything I have not to punch each one of them in the nose for drooling over my daughter.
In fact, I see two older men pointing to her now and making what I assume are crude jokes. She notices. Kennedy is whip smart and misses very little.
We exchange knowing glances between points. I nod my head toward her midriff-baring, tight, revealing top. “Any chance I can talk you into toning it down when you’re here?”
She narrows her eyes at me. “Why should I have to dim my shine for those who can’t handle my light? Screw all of them. Let them drool over something they’ll never have.”
I exhale a long breath. “The man who eventually reins you in will have his hands full.”
She lifts an unamused eyebrow. “Don’t be so misogynistic. I’ll never be reined in. And I have no interest in saddling myself with one man anytime soon. I enjoy fucking around too much. A different guy in my bed every night is all that’s on the menu for me.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. I know my daughter likes to push buttons, especially mine, but sometimes she takes it too far.
“I love spending time with you, sweetie, and I’m happy you’re growing more comfortable around me, but can we consider some boundaries?
There are certain things a father should never hear about his daughter.
I’m pretty sure fucking around every night with a different guy is number one on that list.”
She lets out a laugh. “Too much for you, Dad?”