But before I could say or do anything to warn her of the situation, she sighed happily, saying, “I love you, Matty.”

And then she closed the gap between us for a firm, passionate kiss.

Caught --

It was getting close to midnight, and I lay in bed dressed in my pajamas not feeling even remotely sleepy. I stared straight at the darkened ceiling, eyes wide open, and yet saw absolutely nothing. Not with my mind a few hundred yards away wondering what was going on at

Belle's house.

The moment Belle kissed me I'd broken the kiss and whipped around in shock while simultaneously trying to hide the evidence behind my body.

Really, it wasn't so different from the way I'd reacted that time when

Mother walked into my bedroom while I was masturbating to a 4x6 photograph of the BTC girls in bikinis from a beach trip. Mother had pursed her lips, shook her head, and turned to walk away without saying a word.

Mr. K's reaction was... different.

He wasn't aloof, like Mother, nor was he angry. He'd just been surprised, really, staring at us with big eyes, raised eyebrows, and a confused expression on his face. "Uhhh..." he muttered, “is there something you two wanna tell me?"

Belle jerked upright, now suddenly awake.

“Daddy, I can explain.”

She tried to explain. It didn't go well. She was still pretty tipsy, and didn't quite have all her marbles together. He wanted to know if I was her boyfriend, which she truthfully stated I wasn't. He wanted her to explain the ‘I love you' statement, which she truthfully (although bashfully) admitted that she did. That got him to ask me if I loved her in return, which I truthfully admitted that I did. And then he asked how Long this had been going on.

Belle's precise response was, "We've only been having sex since

November."

Then his eyes got BIG.

I muttered, “I think he would've been okay with you just saying, ‘Since

November’ ."

Mr. K blinked and glanced at me. "You're right about that."

Belle cringed. "Uh, wait, that didn't come out right."

“Oh, there's more?" Mr. K folded his arms across his chest, his expression that of a father who had just found out his only daughter was no longer a virgin, and whose patience was wearing thin.

“Mr. K..." I started, but he held a hand up, his palm facing me.

“Matt, I think it's time you went home."

“sir, I really-—"

“Did you seriously just call me ‘Sir'?" Mr. K cut me off.