My First Daddy (Dark Daddies 7)

I want to shout at her. I want to curse and scream. Instead, I just watch her walk away, my whole body shaking.

Fuck her. Fuck her. Fuck her.

I’m not broken. I’m capable of love. I’m capable of so much more than she thinks. Maybe she knew me at a bad time in my life, didn’t like the way I treated Kevin… but fuck that. She’s gone too far.

I try calling Avery, but don’t get an answer. I don’t bother leaving her a message. She needs space and time right now to figure out what the hell she wants.

But I know what I want.

Samantha can threaten me, insult me, berate me, do whatever she wants to me. I don’t give a shit.

I want Avery. I want her daughter.

I’m falling in love, and I won’t give that up for anything.

I get up and walk back to my apartment.

I’m falling in love. And fuck anyone who tries to get in my way.16JulianI give Avery five days to figure out what she wants.

We don’t speak through the weekend, and she doesn’t come into work the next week. I give her space and I don’t push her. I don’t try calling or texting her, or bothering her after that first night.

I know what I want. I know what I’m willing to risk for it. But I need her to be sure before she makes that decision.

So I wait. Haylee works with one of my editors, and when she asks me why Avery isn’t around, I make up some excuse about Avery being sick.

“Hope she feels better,” Haylee says. “You didn’t do anything to her, right?”

I glare at the young author. “Of course not.”

She grins. “No STDs?”

I roll my eyes. “Unprofessional.”

“Sure, whatever.”

Things go on like that. It’s pretty much the hardest thing I’ve ever done, not calling Avery. All I want to do is hear her voice, ask her what she’s thinking, ask her what she’s feeling. I want to comfort her at the very least, but I know I can’t do anything.

I’m afraid Sam is keeping her locked up in a basement somewhere. That’s only partially absurd. Sam is freaking scary when she wants to be.

But finally, after five days, I know I can’t wait any longer.

I leave work early on a Thursday and head home. I get changed, drink half a whiskey for confidence, and ride my elevator down to the ground floor of the building.

Where I find Avery standing near the entrance, chewing on her fingernails.

She looks surprised to see me. I stare at her, not sure what I should do. I’m afraid that if I move, she’ll go running off like a scared deer.

She takes a few steps toward me and I see resolve in her eyes.

“Avery,” I say finally. “How are you?”

“I’m okay,” she says, taking a deep breath. “Can we talk?”

“Of course. Do you want to go up?”

She nods and we step into the elevator. We stand next to each other, but we don’t touch. All I want to do is touch her, so fucking badly, but I’m afraid of going too far, too fast. I don’t want to scare her away, not when she’s finally here with me, after five days of silence.

We get up into my apartment. She walks into my kitchen right away and helps herself to some of my whiskey.

“I didn’t know you like that stuff,” I say.

She makes a face as she drinks it. “Hate it.”

I laugh a little and pour myself a glass. “Helps though, right?”

“I guess.” She looks at me. “I haven’t heard from you.”

“I know. I thought… I figured you’d want space. I tried to, that first night.”

“I know.” She sighs. “I wasn’t ready. I guess you were right to wait.”

I nod a little. We’re standing so far apart and all I want to do is bridge the gap.

“Have you talked to your mom?” I ask her.

“A little bit.”

I frown. “Just a little bit?”

“I don’t really want to talk to her.”

I hesitate. I won’t let myself feel hopeful. “Why?”

She meets my gaze. “You know why.”

I step toward her. “No. Tell me.”

“Julian, I—”

She stops herself, takes a breath.

I walk over to her. Fuck the weirdness, fuck the distance. I step up to her, take the glass from her hand and put it on the counter while stooping down to kiss her, all in one smooth motion.

She throws her arms around my neck and kisses me back.

It lingers, the kiss. It lingers for a long time and I can feel all that hope, all that fear, all that desire and love and more spring up through me.

I was so afraid that we were done.

I was afraid I lost her, that we couldn’t survive this.

Maybe I was wrong.

We break apart and she’s breathing deeply, close against my chest.

“I love you, Avery,” I say softly. “I’ve never said those words to anyone before and I don’t care how improbable or impossible this is. I love you and I need you.”