I wake up in the morning to the best night’s sleep I’ve had since my parents’ divorce and an empty side of the bed. I lift my head and notice the smell coming from the kitchen. Jake is preparing breakfast. I’m really a lucky guy.

“Morning, kiddo. How did you sleep?”

“Morning… I hadn’t slept this well in a long time.”

“Wonderful, wonderful. You can sleep with me whenever you want. Don’t feel shy about it. Now come eat your pancakes.”

Obviously, I get shy about it. I really want to go sleep with Jake but I can’t overcome a slight sense of shame I feel about it. I want Jake to hold me all night, I want to feel his warmth and his breath on my neck but something tells me it’s wrong. I shouldn’t be feeling like this about a man, I’m a straight guy anyway, aren’t I? And Jake is my father. I shouldn’t be feeling like this about my father.