Page 99 of My Fixation

“You were going to.” He grins. I point toward the hallway.

“Out.”

“Yes, sir.” He turns to leave. Then pauses. “I’m still going to ask Dad.”

Of course he is. I hear him jogging toward the kitchen. Not ten seconds later, Jaxon’s laugh echoes through the house. The sound makes the corner of my mouth lift despite myself. I’m about to lose this argument. Again. And honestly, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I let out a long sigh. The battle is already lost. Somewhere in the kitchen, Jaxon is probably listening to Cillian’s carefully rehearsed argument while pretending he hasn’t already decided to say yes. Traitor.

I open another tab in my browser.

Best beginner dirt bikes for teenagers.

Another.

Most effective motorcycle safety gear.

Another.

Youth neck braces.

Another.

How dangerous are dirt bikes really?

The answer is far more dangerous than I would prefer.

I open another tab.

Can you put a roll cage on a dirt bike?

No. Apparently not. Shame. I lean back in my chair, rubbing a hand over my face. Maybe if I wrapped him in bubble wrap. Several layers. A helmet. A chest protector. Elbow pads. Knee pads. Riding boots. Maybe two helmets.

The image of Cillian waddling around like an overstuffed marshmallow has me snorting to myself. Jaxon appears in the doorway a moment later. One look at my screen and he smiles.

“You’re researching already, aren’t you?”

“I am assessing the risks.”

“You’re shopping.”

“I am mitigating unnecessary danger.”

His smile grows. He crosses the room and rests a hand on my shoulder.

“He’ll be okay.” I cover his hand with mine.

“You’re still buying all the gear, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“The expensive gear?”

“Yes.”

“The airbag vest?”

I blink. “There are airbag vests?”