Would I go to fucking jail? Then I couldn’t be there for her at all.
She appears in my kitchen doorway, hair a mess, my shirt hanging to her knees, looking young and beautiful and completely content.
"Morning, Daddy," she says with a smile that makes my chest tight.
"Morning, baby girl." The endearment slips from my lips like a breath. "Sleep okay?"
"Best sleep I've had in months." She moves to the coffee pot, standing on her toes to reach the mugs, and the t-shirt rides up to show off the first blush of purple from where my fingertips dug in as I held her apart for my mouth. "You?"
"We need to talk about how we handle this at school."
Something in my tone makes her freeze. She turns slowly, mug in hand, and I can see the exact moment she reads my expression.
"Handle what?"
I take the mug from her, walk to the refrigerator and pull it open, then say, "This. Us. We need to be smart about it." I twist the top off the juice and pour it into her mug, recapping it then turning back around, walking the three steps her way and putting it in her hand. "You have too much to lose if we're careless."
"What do you mean?" She asks, looking at the mug with a quizzical scowl.
"I mean your scholarship. Your future. Everything you've worked for." I keep my voice level, matter-of-fact. "One wrong look, one person putting pieces together, and it's all gone."
Her face goes carefully blank. "So what are you saying?"
"I'm saying we need rules. Boundaries at school. No one can know about this until you graduate."
"And after I graduate?"
"After you graduate, you're not my student anymore. But until then, we keep this private."
She sets down her mug and crosses her arms. "You mean we sneak around. Hide what we are."
"I mean we protect what's yours to lose."
"What about what's yours to lose?"
I shrug. "I'm thirty-seven years old. I've had my shot at building a life. You haven't. I won't let this destroy your future."
“I wanted coffee,” she snaps, then spins like she’s going to walk away.
“Oh no you don’t. We’re talking, you don’t walk away from me when we are talking.”
I’ve got her upper arm in my hand before she can get two steps in.
“You’re bossy, is what you are. And I likecoffee.”
“You might be right on both of those, but you need nutrition, not caffeine. You’re eighteen, but you are still growing, and coffee is not good for you. If something is not good for you, then you’re not getting it.”
She rolls her eyes as I retrieve the mug and put it to her lips. She crinkles her nose, eyes narrow, but she takes a sip as I tip it up.
“There, you happy?”
I shrug, setting the mug down and lowering my lips to hers, whispering, “If I’m with you, I’m happy.”
I kiss away the sweet orange juice off her lips, introducing her to my tongue again, feeling her body soften.
When I pull back, her eyes are more focused, that bratty defiance washing away.
"You know what? Fine. You're right about the scholarship thing." She picks up the juice on her own this time and takes a sip, wrapping her hands around the mug. "But I have conditions."
