I told Grant's parents I'd be staying at Chris' house for the weekend. As expected they didn't seem surprised and agreed to let me go.
In *my* bedroom I packed a duffle bag for the stay overnight. Along with my normal street clothes I carefully packed a nice shirt and black pants before heading back to my own house--although now looking like my son's best friend.
When I arrived, I knocked on the door and waited. My wife Claire answered the door.
"Hello Grant," she said and stepped back to call Chris.
I stared at her for a moment and grinned. She blushed for a moment and I asked if I could talk before I met Chris. She looked uneasy, but led me into the kitchen.
"What do you want to talk about Grant?" she asked.
"You know, you're a beautiful woman," I said, being only 5'6" I had to look up into her hazel eyes. I took a couple of breaths and looked away using Grant's own embarrassment. Straightening my back, I stuck my thumbs in my pockets, tightening my t-shirt against my torso and emphasising my shoulders, pecs and abs. Tipping my head I looked back, straight into her eyes.
Claire looked phased for a moment, unsure what to say to the teenager that stood in front of her. "Erm, thank you Grant."
I relaxed and laughed. "You're so easy to embarrass Claire," I said.
"Daniel!"
"Guilty. What do you think," I replied turning on the spot.
She shook her head. "Why Daniel, why Grant?