I shouldn't have done it.
But there I was, pressed against the railing of my best friend's balcony, my dress sliding off one shoulder, legs wrapped around him because honestly, why not? Daniel Carter my best friend's dad, the man who shouldn't exist in my fantasies had kissed me. Just once, but it was electric, reckless, and way too intimate ...
His hand lingered at my waist, thumb brushing over my hip, and for one dizzying second I forgot how to think. except the way he smelled like whiskey, winter air, and trouble.
Then he pulled back, eyes dark, jaw tight. "Maya… we can't—"
"Can't or won't?" I teased, smirking, because I know he wanted this as badly as I did.
"What if lila caught us like that ", he said
I thought about it, then realised,
Lila, his daughter my best friend is three thousand miles away at college in London. Which means I've been "checking in" on him like the responsible adult I pretend to be. Let me be completely honest, It started innocent. Coffee runs. Dropping off groceries. But somewhere between late-night flirty chatter something changed between us.
I swear the universe has a sick sense of humor.
Because out of all the men in New York City I could catch feelings for, it had to be Daniel Carter. My best friend's dad. He is now widowed but Daniel is… annoyingly handsome. Not the boyband-pretty type I usually match with on Hinge, but the kind of handsome that caughts you off guard and ruins your life.And now here I am, perched on his kitchen counter at midnight like a stray cat, wearing ripped jeans, a black bralette under a cropped hoodie, and bare feet. Not exactly glamorous, but judging by the way he keeps stealing glances, it's working. He is the same man who , literally grounded me once for sneaking vodka into a sleepover.
"You're staring again," Daniel says without looking up, pouring another glass of whiskey like it's water.
Says who, I thought in mind, who himself holds the power of being irresistible, Sharp jaw Salt-and-pepper hair that makes him look like he belongs on some whiskey ad. Veins on his forearms that should honestly be illegal. And those eyesgray, calm, like he's got his whole life figured out, which is hot and infuriating at the same time.
"Maybe I just like the aesthetic," I shoot back. "Middle-aged finance guy drowning his loneliness in overpriced liquor. Very Tumblr-core."
His mouth twitches his version of a laugh. Daniel doesn't laugh easily. Which is exactly why I try so hard to get one out of him.
"You're cute," he mutters.
"Cute," I echo, leaning closer, "or irresistible?"
That earns me a look. One of those looks. The kind that lasts half a second but makes me feel like I just got stripped naked in the middle of Times Square.
I pop another fry into my mouth and act unbothered, even though my pulse is absolutely not chill.Now, every second feels dangerous. The silence stretches. I know I should leave, but instead, I stretch out on the counter, hoodie sliding up just enough to show a sliver of skin. His eyes flicker fast, guilty, but there.
And that's all the confirmation I need.
Daniel Carter wants me.
He just hasn't admitted it yet.
Daniel leans back against the counter, arms crossed, pretending to be unfazed. Classic defense move. He does it whenever I push too far, like folding himself in just might hide the fact he's looking at me like I'm the problem.
Spoiler: I am the problem. And I love it.
"So…" I drag out the word, licking salt off my fingers from the fries, watching his jaw tighten. "Are you ever gonna admit you like having me around? Or should I keep pretending you don't?"
His eyes lift,Dangerous. The kind of look that would send most people running. But I'm not most people.
"You're my daughter's best friend, Maya," he says finally. Voice low. Steady. Too steady.
"And?" I tilt my head, hoodie slipping off one shoulder. "That's a fact. Not a reason."
The silence between us thickens. At the particular moment,it's just me, him, and the sound of my heartbeat doing parkour.
Then he moves.
One second he's across the kitchen, the next he's standing right in front of me, between my knees, close enough that I catch the faint scent of his cologne clean, sharp, and expensive. His hand braces the counter next to my hip, knuckles brushing my thigh.
"Maya," he says my name as if seducing me .
I smirk, even though my insides are on fire. "Yeah?"
His eyes drop to my mouth. Just for a second. Just long enough.
And then he jerks back like he's been burned.
"I think you should go home," he mutters, turning away.
But I see it. The way his hand shakes just slightly when he pours another drink. The way his shoulders tense like he's holding himself together with duct tape and prayer.
He wants me. Bad.
And he's about two seconds from breaking.