Lia was towing me toward the small footpath at the edge of the quad with both hands on my wrist now, her face the color of a stoplight, and behind us her three friends were cackling.
Once we were ten yards down the path, far enough that the cackling had become a distant thing, she finally stopped.
She put both hands over her face, "Daddy."
"Lia."
She cried out, "You did that on purpose."
I nodded, "...I did."
"Daddy."
"You called me sugar daddy in front of them, Lia. I am allowed one move per interaction. Those are the rules."
"Those are not the rules—"
"Those are the rules now."
"...Damnation."
I rolled my eyes, "You stole my swear."
"It is a good swear."
I laughed.
She peeked at me through her fingers, the pink still high on her cheeks, and then very slowly slid her hands down and gave me a small, real smile, the kind I had not yet seen on her, somewhere between sheepish and pleased.
"Hi, daddy."
"Hi, Lia."
"...Walk with me?"
"Lead the way."
...
