The looks on their faces? Fucking priceless as I motion to the cooler sitting beside the table. Aiden’s mouth is hanging open, waiting to catch flies. Both Ricky and Kyle’s eyes look like they are bugging out of their heads. Zander and Scooter shift uncomfortably on the bench, glance over their shoulders like they don’t want Jax to walk in and get them in trouble.

“Go on,” I encourage and lean over and open the lid myself.

Aiden sees it first. His laugh rings across the room. “It’s root beer, guys.” His voice is part relief, part disbelief as he shakes his head and passes down the silver cans of soda.

The others join in. Eyes flicker from the cans back to me, looks of curiosity over why I’m here and what’s going on. The crack of the tops of the cans fill the room. I wait for them the take that first sip before looking back to me.

“I need to have a man-to-man talk with you guys so I figured you could handle having a beer or two while we chat.” I nod my head to reinforce my point and get five more nods in return.

“Are we in trouble?” Ricky asks, hands fiddling with the tab on his can.

“No, but I need to talk to you guys about something.” Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Why am I nervous? I look down at my hands. Buck the fuck up, Donavan. They’re all under fourteen. How am I going to do this? Crap.

“What?” Zander asks, eyebrows raised, voice innocent.

And shit. Innocent is the keyword here. Did I know what sex was at age thirteen? Hell yes, I did. Thought I did, anyway. A messy French kiss with Laura Parker was the extent of it. The sheets I’d balled up in the morning, mortified for my mom to find, had been my reality.

“So . . . you guys might start hearing some stuff at school or see stuff on TV or the Internet about Rylee and me.” Brows furrow. Lips quirk. And my palms sweat. I clear my throat. “Sometimes adults do things in the heat of the moment that leads to . . . er . . . uh . . . consequences.”

“Heat of the moment?” Aiden says with a snicker. I swear to God I blush for the first time in what feels like forever.

“You know sometimes you do something without thinking—”

“Like that time you climbed on the counter to get the cookies on top of the refrigerator and—”

“No. Not like that,” I cut Kyle off. Sweet Jesus this is going to be difficult. “More like when two married people love each other they—”

“Do they have to be married?” Scooter asks.

Seriously? Do I have to go here? I feel like I’m sitting on hot coals. My balls are burning and I can’t sit still.

“For the most part, yes.” I’m going to be struck by lightning for saying that. For lying through my teeth.

Aiden snickers again. I guess at age fourteen he knows where I’m going with this. And is enjoying watching me struggle.

“Anyway, there is going to be some talk about us and I wanted to say that you know Rylee. You know the person she is. So please don’t believe any of the crap you hear being said.”

There. Maybe that will be enough.

“But why? What’s on the Internet?”

I just fucked this up. If I were their age and someone said this to me, I’d immediately go and online and search for it. Curiosity and all that.

The snicker again from Aiden. The one that says he either already knows because someone said something at school today or is assuming.

Don’t lose your cool, Donavan.

“Five Three X,” he murmurs under his breath, confusing the fuck out of me but making perfect sense to the four of them by the way they whip their heads his way and their mouths fall open like they know perfectly well what he’s saying.

“What?” I ask.

Five pairs of eyes look down at hands on soda cans and leave me lost in the goddamn dark.

“Someone going to explain what the hell five three X means?”

Snickers times five now.

“Aiden?”

He looks up, meets my eyes, and the look he gives me tells me he knows exactly what I’m here to tell them about. A single scathing look that tells me he’s pissed at me for whatever it is he’s read about Ry—like it’s all my fault—and all I can do is sigh and run a hand through my hair. And try to figure out what the fuck he’s talking about.

A part of me loves this glare he’s giving me. He’s pissed with me because he’s protective of Ry, but at the same time . . . really? I’m being eye-scolded by a fourteen-year-old?

And then it hits me. The visual of what Five Three X looks like. 53X

SEX.

Jesus fucking Christ. When did I get so old I don’t know that lingo and when did these kids get so old when they’re not?

I jog my knee. Take a breath. What the hell am I supposed to say now? I wasn’t really going to go into the sex part of it. Was I? I don’t even know. I thought this was going to be a cinch. A little chat. Don’t believe everything you see or hear on the Internet type of thing.

And now I’m stuck with birds and bees and son-of-a-bitch Aiden just threw a whole goddamn hornet’s nest on me when I wasn’t looking.

Can anyone say fish out of water?

“Dude. It’s totally cool,” Aiden says, taking point for the brood despite the two youngest, Zander and Scooter, blushing.

“No, it’s not cool,” I say, finding my footing. “Rylee’s super concerned that you will be affected by this and she doesn’t want you to—”

“Look, we’re not going to click on anything, okay?” My eyes bug out of my head. “No one wants to see you bumping uglies . . . especially us.”

That’s one way to put it. My mouth goes dry as snickers fall, red creeps into cheeks, and eyes are averted from mine.

“Well . . . then . . .” Shit. Great job, Donavan. You’ve got Aiden pissed at you but you still haven’t made them understand that this is about more than just sex. I scrub a hand over my face and try to figure out what the fuck I need to say to get the point across. “Listen, guys, you love Rylee like I do, right?” All heads nod and each pair of eyes narrow as they wait to see what else I’m going to say. “That’s what I thought. So I need you to understand that there have been some mean, ugly things said about her because of the images out there of us. She’s upset and really hurt by them. But more than anything, she’s worried it’s going to affect all of you. So when I ask you not to click on anything online, don’t click on anything. When I ask you not to believe anything crappy said about her or her reasons for supporting The House, don’t believe them. You guys are her world, and she’d hate herself if you were hurt in any way from this. So can you do that for me? Can you ignore all of this and pretend like it didn’t happen so Rylee doesn’t have to worry about you guys?”

For fuck’s sake, please understand what I’m asking here.

Aiden’s gaze meets mine. Gone is the immature smugness from moments before. It’s been replaced with an understanding that seems to go well beyond his years. He nods his head once to me, eyes relaying his unspoken words: we promise.

I shift in my seat when all I really want to do is sag in relief. Thank Christ. I start to talk and then stop, unsure what to say next.

“Dodgers,” Aiden says, recognizing my uncertainty and owning this conversation like nobody’s business. “Let’s talk about last night’s Dodgers game.”

All I can do is shake my head.

I’m not ready for this parenting shit.


“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU mean early parole?” Colton’s voice ricochets off the stairwell and up into the room, shocking me from the case reports I’m trying to complete on my laptop and indicating he is home. Within an instant, I set my computer aside and move downstairs to find out what’s going on.