Amber's hands shook as she hung the last blue balloon in Claire's living room. Not because the ladder was wobbly, but because HE was walking through the front door.
"Need some help up there?" Rawls Benedict's deep voice made her heart jump.
"I'm okay!" Amber squeaked, nearly dropping the tape. She focused on securing the balloon string, afraid to look down at Claire's dad.
At thirty-eight, Rawls Benedict was not like other dads. He didn't wear boring sweaters or have a big belly. No, Claire's dad was tall with dark hair touched by silver at the temples. His blue eyes crinkled when he smiled, which was exactly what he was doing now.
"Good catch," he said as Amber fumbled with the tape roll but managed to grab it before it fell. "Claire told me you've been here all morning helping. You're a good friend."
Friend. That's all she'd ever be to him. Rawls saw her as his daughter's best buddy, not as the twenty-three-year-old woman whose heart raced whenever he entered a room.
"Claire's birthday only comes once a year," Amber said, carefully climbing down the ladder. She made the mistake of looking up at his face. Those eyes! She missed the last step and stumbled forward.
Rawls caught her arm, steadying her. His touch sent electricity up her spine.
"Whoa there. You okay?"
"Fine!" She pulled away quickly, her cheeks burning. "Just clumsy."
Claire bounced into the room, saving Amber from further embarrassment. Her blonde ponytail swung as she surveyed the decorated living room.
"This looks amazing! You're the best, Amber!" Claire hugged her tight. "Dad, isn't she the best?"
"Absolutely," Rawls agreed with a smile that made Amber's knees weak. "I'll leave you girls to finish up. I need to pick up the cake."
As soon as he left, Amber breathed easier. Being around Rawls was like trying to act normal while holding your breath.
"Let's hang these streamers next," Claire said, digging through a decoration box.
As they worked, Claire chatted about college classes and the party guests. Amber nodded and smiled, but her mind kept drifting to Rawls. She'd first met him when she was sixteen and came to study with Claire. He'd been helping them with math problems, and something about his kindness and the way his eyes lit up when he explained things had touched her heart.
Seven years later, that feeling had only grown stronger.
"Hello? Earth to Amber!" Claire waved a hand in front of her face. "You totally zoned out. Are you worried about your job interview on Monday?"
Amber grabbed the excuse. "Yeah, just nervous."
"You'll get it for sure. The library would be crazy not to hire you."
The front door opened again, and Rawls returned balancing a large cake box.
"Special delivery," he called.
Amber rushed to help, taking the box while he shrugged off his jacket. Their fingers brushed during the handoff, and she nearly dropped the cake.
"Careful there," Rawls said, his hand touching hers again to steady the box. "This cake cost more than my first car."
Claire laughed. "Dad, everything costs more than that old truck you had."
Amber carried the cake to the kitchen, grateful for a moment alone to calm her racing heart. She placed the box on the counter and took deep breaths.
"Get it together," she whispered to herself. "He's your best friend's dad. Stop being weird."
But her heart wouldn't listen. It never had.
"Need help with that?" Rawls's voice startled her. He stood in the kitchen doorway, sleeves rolled up to show strong forearms.
"I've got it," Amber said quickly, opening the box to check the cake. "It's beautiful."
Rawls moved closer to look. "Claire will love it. Thanks for helping with everything, Amber. I'm hopeless at party planning."
"It's fun for me," she said, trying to sound casual despite his nearness.
"Claire's lucky to have you." His voice softened. "You've been good for her since the divorce."
Amber nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Claire's parents had split three years ago when her mom, Karla, left Rawls for another man. The breakup had devastated Claire, and Amber had stayed by her side through it all.
"By the way," Rawls continued, "I hear you're interviewing at the library. Need a reference? I know the head librarian."
"You do?" Amber looked up in surprise.
"Sure. Sarah and I were in the same class in high school. I could put in a good word."
"That would be amazing, thanks." Her smile was genuine now.
Something changed in his expression as he looked at her—a slight pause, a curious tilt of his head. For one crazy second, Amber wondered if he could read her thoughts.
The moment broke when Claire called from the living room, "Dad! The grill isn't working!"
"Duty calls," he sighed, then gave Amber a wink that sent her heart fluttering again before he headed outside.
The party started an hour later. Amber stayed busy helping serve food and drinks to Claire's college friends. She tried not to watch Rawls as he charmed everyone, flipping burgers and telling jokes that made people laugh.
"Your dad is so cool," said Jen, one of Claire's classmates. "And cute for an older guy."
Amber mumbled agreement, annoyed by the flutter of jealousy in her stomach. She had no right to feel jealous. Rawls wasn't hers.
As the evening wound down, guests began to leave. Amber started cleaning up, gathering plates and cups.
"You don't have to do that," Rawls said, taking a trash bag from her hands. "You've done enough already."
"I don't mind," she insisted.
"Dad's right," Claire said, joining them. "You've been here all day. Go home and rest. We can finish."
Amber reluctantly agreed. She hugged Claire goodbye and gave Rawls a quick wave, avoiding his eyes.
Outside, the cool night air felt good on her hot cheeks. She walked to her small apartment just three blocks away, her mind full of Rawls—his smile, his laugh, the way he'd winked at her in the kitchen.
Inside her apartment, Amber kicked off her shoes and flopped onto her bed. She reached under her mattress and pulled out a small leather journal. This was her secret—pages filled with thoughts about Rawls Benedict that no one, especially Claire, could ever see.
She opened to a fresh page and began to write:
Today I was close enough to smell his cologne. Why does he have to be so perfect? The way he caught me when I almost fell... I felt his strength through his hands. But he only sees me as Claire's friend. Nothing more. Sometimes I catch him looking at me strangely, like today in the kitchen. For a second, I thought maybe... but no. That's just my silly heart hoping for impossible things.
I have to stop this. He's Claire's DAD. My best friend would never forgive me if she knew how I felt. But I can't make these feelings go away. They've been growing for seven years, and every time I see him, they get stronger.
Amber closed the journal with a sigh and returned it to its hiding place. She'd never act on these feelings. Never risk her friendship with Claire. Never embarrass herself by letting Rawls know how she felt.
A text message pinged on her phone. She grabbed it, expecting Claire, but froze when she saw the name.
Rawls: Thanks again for today. You made Claire's party perfect. About the library job—I called Sarah already. She's looking forward to meeting you Monday. Sweet dreams.
Sweet dreams? Amber's heart pounded. It was just a saying, a normal way to end a message. But still...
As she got ready for bed, another text came through. This one from Claire:
Dad kept talking about how helpful you were today. I think he misses having you around! You used to be at our house all the time in high school. We should hang out more, like old times. Love you!
Amber read the message twice, a plan forming in her mind. Maybe she could spend more time at Claire's house. Just as friends, of course. Just to see Claire more often.
And if that meant seeing more of Rawls too? Well, that would just be a coincidence.
She fell asleep smiling, not knowing that at that very moment, her journal was slipping from its hiding place, sliding between the mattress and bed frame, the corner now visible from the side of the bed.
A journal that held all her secrets. A journal that anyone could find.