Page 73 of The Daddy’s Girl

After a few moments go by, we relax.

“I have to go,” I mumble under my breath as I turn toward the door.

Amelia hops down from the dresser and comes toward me. “Don’t go.”

“No,” I bark a little too loudly. “I have to go, Amelia.”

With her hand outstretched toward me, she sends me an expression of concern. “Can I see you tomorrow?”

“No,” I snap again. I can’t look her in the eye. What kind of man am I? I’ve never felt so depraved and shameless in my life, and I have done some pretty depraved and shameless things.

She deserves my sincerity, so I take a step toward her, clasping her hands in mine. Then, with a stoic gaze, I give her the world’s weakest apology and the most pathetic excuse I can muster.

“Amelia, I am sorry, but we cannot do this. I should not have done this. This ends here, my treasure. I’m so, so sorry.”

“You don’t mean that,” she pleads, tugging me closer. If she gets those perfect lips on me again, I’ll be helpless against them.

“I do mean it,” I argue. “This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have come here. I should never have…” My gaze dances back toward the dresser as if the scene of the crime is somehow to blame for what I’ve done.

Then I find her eyes again, and the sadness in those deep blue irises crushes me.

Taking her cheeks in my hands, I level my eyes with hers. “Listen to me, Trouble. I wish I could stay with you, but I can’t. Don’t you see? Your father is right downstairs, and he would kill me if he found us together. Or it would kill him. Either way, it’s not a risk I can take.”

Then my sweet girl puts on a brave face and stands up a little straighter. “I understand.”

“Get some sleep. I’ll call you tomorrow, d’accord?”

Looking at me through those thick, full lashes, she nods. “Okay.”

I kiss her forehead, but I can’t bring myself to come anywhere near those sinful lips. As she climbs into bed, I linger near the door.

For a moment, I imagine myself crawling in next to her. I feel her warm body against mine. I kiss her lips and breathe the same air as her. I feel her head on my chest as I stroke her back tenderly.

I’ve never been a relationship man, but for the first time in my life, I imagine how blissful that would feel. With her, if I truly let myself be with her, I know it would feel like heaven.

But I can’t.

“Good night, Trouble,” I whisper as I open her bedroom door.

“Good night, old man,” she replies with a hint of humor in her voice.

As I step out into the hallway of the second floor, it is so quiet that it feels almost impossible that her parents didn’t hear what we just did. The sound of her moans as she came on my hand were so loud in my ear that I’m certain it echoed through the silent halls of this house.

But there’s not a peep as I creep down the stairs and out the door like a criminal.

The club is busy tonight. Familiar faces around every corner, either people I’ve slept with or people I’ve wanted to sleep with, hover around me like honeybees, tempting me with something I thought I needed.

The glass of wine in my hands doesn’t taste as warm and strong as it normally does. The flavor pales in comparison to her lips. Everything pales now.

Fuck, what have I done?

What happened tonight means nothing. It was a one-time slip, and it will never happen again. Amelia will just have to understand and move on. Her father will never find out.

No one will ever find out.

Things will go back to normal. I’ll just have to give up on this search for a partner because that’s not my style anyway, is it? Long-term commitment and crawling into bed with the same person every night.

That is a dream for men who are allowed to want the people they want.