Color Me Pretty: A Father's Best Friend Romance

“He was your friend,” I added softly.

The way he watched me, looked down at me with such intensity, had me shivering. “Are you cold?”

Slowly, I shook my head. Rising on my toes, I brushed my lips on the underside of his jaw, causing him to lock up. It was only a tiny caress, but his reaction made it seem like more. It always did when we got close. And we did. Often.

“Della.”

“Don’t worry.” I stepped away before he could say anything more or move from me first. That kind of rejection on a night like this was one I wouldn’t be able to walk away from without another piece of my heart shattering. “It was a goodnight kiss. Nothing more.”

His voice was rough, cracked. “It can’t be anything more, not even now. Never again. Do you understand?”

I blinked, noting the faint mark of pink lipstick on his skin where my lips rested for a microscopic moment. “I told you I understood when you left my apartment that morning.”

Theo knew which morning I meant. It still hurt to think about even all this time later. To think he believed I would pounce on another opportunity to be in bed with him just because my father was gone made my stomach ache. I might not have been on the best terms with my father after what he’d done, but that didn’t mean I was going to use his death as an excuse.

I didn’t want Theo’s pity.

I wanted his love.

“His death changes nothing,” Theo added.

His death changes everything. Just not what he was insinuating. Deep down, I knew he was trying to get a reaction out of me. Maybe even hurt me in order to distance us. He’d done that plenty since the morning he left my apartment in a hurry like I’d threatened him. As if waking up beside me in our state of undress was that unappealing to him when he was the one who showed up and initiated our actions that night to begin with. Hurt laced into my being, squeezing my heart to the point of physical pain, but I held my head up high and pretended it didn’t bother me, no matter how much I clung to the possibilities that involved the man in front of me.

He was good at hurting people. That man was skilled at putting others in their place when it benefited him, but never me. Never his little Della. It made me wonder who he’d become now that his oldest friend was truly gone. Not just off to prison, to Rikers Island, but gone.

Who will you become now? I wanted so badly to ask him.

Theodore Bennett West. My father’s best friend. The man I’ve loved ever since I knew what love was, even when I shouldn’t have.

During a very drunken binge when his guard was down, he made it feel like maybe those feelings were reciprocated. Except he woke up in a tangle of my cheap clearance sheets, half naked, with a mask of regret and disgust on his face when he saw me in nothing more than a matching pink panty set beside him after he’d stripped me of my normal pajamas. He’d barged his way in smelling like his liquor cabinet, touched me in ways I’d never been touched by him before, and made me feel…whole.

I could still taste the whiskey on his breath, the tobacco on his tongue, and the desperation in his words as he told me he needed one night. Just one.

“Just one night, Della. That’s all I need to…”

I didn’t know what he needed the one night for, but it was clear something had happened. It didn’t take my body long to cooperate as he pinned me against the wall with his hips, pressing his hard erection against me to show me what exactly he needed. The way he ground into my softest spot and touched me in my most sensitive area with those rough fingers made the spark I’d suspected we’d had since I was old enough to know what that felt like, come to life. There was a fire in us that night as he kept me against that wall and made me come using just his hand while his mouth had devoured mine like he needed more.

Though we hadn’t gone as far as I would have liked before he passed out from who knew how much alcohol he’d consumed, the moments we shared were permanently tattooed on my flawed skin for the world to see. I didn’t hide it.

“As I said,” I replied instead, voice skillfully calm, “I understand just fine, Theo. Please drive safe.”

He stared at me for a moment too long before swiping his large palm through his longer-than-normal tussled brown hair and turned on his heels. No jacket, and not another word.

And I watched him walk away.

Again.

Chapter One

Della

Turning the page of sheet music, I settled back onto the bench and straightened my spine before placing my fing

ers onto the ivory just as Aunt Sophie showed me.

“I’m not sure I’m getting this,” I admitted, trying to remember which keys were which.

The pristine middle-aged woman sitting in an elegant red armchair beside the window scoffed. “You just need to keep practicing as we discussed. Your mother should have taught you how to play years ago.”