Forbidden Daddy (Daddy Knows Best Book 3)

by Kelly Myers

  I think some space from Nate would be good as well. I’m not going to try and say I can totally freeze him out, because I can’t. He means too much. I couldn’t quit him cold turkey.

  But we’ve been together every night for the last few weeks. We spend evenings together, eat together, share a bed, then have breakfast and coffee together. One night off might clear my head a bit. Maybe after the party, I’ll have a better idea of how the hell I’m supposed to proceed with Nate.

  My stomach lurches with unease. Just thinking about the difficult decisions we’re going to have to make is causing me to feel ill. I press my hand to my stomach and tell myself to ignore the queasiness.

  “Ok, maybe a party could be fun,” I say. “What’s the vibe?”

  “Really?” Tommy asks. “You think you might go?”

  Becca’s brows shoot up, and it’s obvious that even she expected me to say no.

  “It’ll be drinks and music and dancing,” Becca says. “It’ll be so fun, trust me. We can dress up a bit, do our hair! Just enjoy being young and irresponsible.”

  “Ok, ok, I’m in,” I say.

  “Same,” Tommy says. “Minus the dressing up and the hair part, obviously.”

  Becca lets out a little squeal of delight and grips both of our hands. “Finally you two are rallying for me!”

  I roll my eyes but chuckle at Becca’s enthusiasm.

  She flops onto her back and starts babbling about all the people who will be there and how amazing it’s going to be. I lean back on my hands and just let her happy chatter wash over me.

  Maybe if I stick by Becca’s side, her optimism will rub off on me.

  It’s going to be tough to get ecstatic about the party, but I’m going to try. It’s not like I’m a total killjoy. I go to parties, now and then. I like music, and I even like dancing if I’m in the right mood.

  I just need to take some time to myself. It’s so hard for me to think critically about the future when I’m with Nate. I always just want to drown myself in his presence. I’m addicted to getting lost in his arms.

  And when he takes me to the bedroom and makes me call him Daddy and touches me in all sorts of ways...well, in those moments, I can’t think at all.

  “Hello!” Becca is waving her hand in front of my face, and I snap back to reality. “Earth to Cynthia! What do you think about heading to my room after this to order food and get ready? I can lend you clothes!”

  “Sure, yeah.” I nod and decide it’s for the best.

  I can totally picture myself going back to my place to change, then Nate showing up and tempting me to bail on the whole thing.

  “You ok, Cynthia?” Tommy murmurs. “You look a bit pale?”

  “It’s just the heat,” I say. “I’m probably dehydrated too.”

  “Well, you better start drinking water,” Becca declares. “Because you are going to be taking shots tonight!”

  I paste a smile on my face and pull out my phone.

  I know better than to try and send Nate a text acting like it’s no big deal that I’m going to this party. He knows I don’t party. He will sense something is up.

  I type him a message saying that I’m going to a party on campus with friends, and I admit that I feel like I need a night on my own. Plus I want to enjoy time with my friends before graduation.

  Written out, I feel like I come off as defensive. I sigh. I’m not going to waste time editing it though. Nate will understand why I feel the need to have time away from him. He knows about my worry and frustration over the future. And he himself mentioned the other day that he doesn’t want to take me away from my college life. He said he felt bad for stealing me away from my college friends.

  I send the message and then shove my phone back in my bag. I’m going to be fun and cheerful this evening. I owe that to Becca and Tommy. They’ve been such good friends and put up with my intense planning and studying all these years, I want us to have one last night of fun.

  I try to participate in the conversation, but mostly I let Becca carry it.

  As the sun starts to set, we all stand up. Tommy says he’ll head back to his dorm to get ready and then meet us at Becca’s for pizza.

  Becca and I agree to that plan and start walking to her room.

  “Ok, I’m thinking you could wear that black mini-skirt I have,” Becca says. “Your legs are so long, you’ll look amazing.”

  I nod, but my attention is occupied by the buzzing of my phone. I pull it out of my bag as casually as I can to check.

  Nate has texted back: No worries, go have fun with your friends! Call me if you want to hang out later.

  I almost feel like crying. He’s so nice and accepting, and I don’t actually want space from him. I want to be with him all the time. But it’s hard knowing that we’re going to have to end it soon.

  This night will be good practice. I can’t keep living in a little bubble with Nate, acting like we will spend every night together for the rest of our lives.

  It’s time to break out of that routine, as lovely as it’s been.

  I swallow the lump in my throat and refocus on Becca as we arrive at her dorm.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Nate

  I’ve never thought of myself as a possessive guy. I like strong and independent women. I have no problem letting Cynthia make her own choices. And she’s free to spend a night on her own if that’s what she wants.

  And yet as darkness sets in, and I eat alone, I start to get riled up. I even feel flashes of anger. She’s out drinking and dancing with college kids. And even if she’s not inviting any attention, I know how college boys must be looking at her. Eyeing her as if she was meat, theirs for the taking.

  It wouldn’t be so unbearable if I didn’t know that Cynthia is upset over her impending graduation. She wants answers and a resolution, but I haven’t been ready for us to talk about that. I wanted to enjoy what we had. I also wanted to give her time to figure out what she wants. If she decided after a few weeks that she’s not feeling it, and she wanted to just call it a day, I wanted her to have that chance. I didn’t want to pressure her by announcing what I am willing to sacrifice to be with her.

  I myself haven’t put an exact definition on it, but I know for Cynthia, I would sacrifice quite a lot. I never have believed in or wanted a long-distance relationship, but I would try for her. The city isn’t that far away, after all, and I visit a lot anyway for work.

  I haven’t thought about moving, not yet. I love my home. I’ve invested a lot in it. I feel it’s too soon to think about that.

  All I know is I don’t want to lose her. Not yet.

  After years of avoiding serious relationships and swearing off long-term commitment, I’m willing to try it again. For Cynthia.

  I didn’t think I would find this kind of bond with someone at this point in my life. I figured I had my shot, and I wasted it on an early marriage to the wrong person. I assumed my door to my great love story closed once I hit my thirties. Not that I was looking. There are so many people out there who are actively searching for love. I figured they deserved it over me.

  Now Cynthia has entered my life in a blaze of glory. She awakens parts of me I thought were long-dead. It’s not just the sex, althought that part is amazing. It’s the way she and I can talk for hours about all sorts of things. It’s the way she fits in my arms when we sleep at night. It’s the way she supports me in my career and the way I want to support her in her career.

  For the first time in my life, I want to give everything I can to someone else. I never was this selfless, not even with my first wife when things were good.

  So the thought of Cynthia at that college party, trying to distance herself from me, is pure agony.

  As I pace around my bedroom, watching the time tick by, I suddenly feel like I’ve waited too long. I should have explained to Cynthia how ready I am to commit sooner. I should have told her straight up that we won’t have to say goodbye when she graduates. I should have told her that I
want to keep us going, in whatever way we can. Yes, long distance will be difficult, but I’m ready to try anything.

  It could be too late. She could be resolving to forget all about me right now at this college party. She could be flirting with some young guy as she sips cheap beer out of a red solo cup.

  She would be within her rights. Because I’ve been so adamant about enjoying the moment, we have never fully defined our relationship. We have admitted our feelings are strong, but we never agreed to be monogamous.

  So if Cynthia sleeps with some other guy tonight, she wouldn’t be betraying me. She would be taking action based on the fact that I haven’t told her exactly how I feel.

  I growl and slam my hand against my bedroom wall. It’s pointless, but I need a way to express my anger.

  What I really want to do is barge into that college party and yank the men away from Cynthia by the scruffs of their necks, then pick her up and carry her back to my bed. And then not let her leave my bed for several hours, possibly even days.

  But Cynthia would be mortified if I showed up on her campus. She is not embarrassed to be seen with me. We’ve gone to several restaurants together. I just know she’s kept me a secret from her friends because she doesn’t know how to explain what we are. She would be upset if I so wantonly revealed her secrecy.

  I would feel stupid too. An old guy like me has no business causing a dramatic scene in a college dorm.

  Anyway, one glance at the clock tells me it’s only ten. The party probably is barely underway.

  That does mean Cynthia might not even be there yet. If I call her now, maybe I can change her mind.

  I gaze longingly at my phone. It would be so immature. Not to mention manipulative. I never wanted to be the kind of man who controlled his girlfriend or wife. I find it distinctly uncomfortable when I see a couple like that, in which the guy tells the girl what she can and can’t do.

  I can imagine how Cynthia would react if I summoned her back to me. She would do it, probably out of concern. She has a big heart and a huge amount of empathy, which is probably what motivated her to study medicine in the first place. But afterwards, when she realizes I was being a jealous boyfriend type, she would be upset. Cynthia doesn’t really get angry or lose her cool, but she would not appreciate my trying to control her.

  The power roleplay stuff is just for the bedroom. Outside the bedroom, Cynthia has a mind of her own. She’s independent. We’re equals. So for me to order her to bail on the party, or even for me to make the request, would be messed up.

  I have no choice. I just have to sit and wait. Hopefully she’ll come back to me. If she doesn’t, I don’t know what I’ll do.

  Will I fight for her? If she ends up tossing me out for some younger guy, how much am I willing to push back on that?

  My answer is immediate: Hell yes.

  Then again, it’s a fine line. If Cynthia tells me it’s over, and she’s sure about that, I would never want to disrespect her wishes.

  However, I would want to disagree. I would want to tell her it’s far from over. Not for me anyway.

  I want her in my life. I just have to figure out the best way to communicate that to her. I don’t want to scare her or make her feel boxed in. I remember what it felt like to be twenty-one. You have all the options in the world at that age. Why would Cynthia want to tie herself to some over-the-hill middle-aged man?

  I hate thinking about myself like this, and I never did until I started hooking up with Cynthia. It’s hard not to ruminate on your age when you’re with someone so much younger. Of course Cynthia is mature for her age, but the undeniable fact is that she’s almost twenty years younger than I am.

  They say age is just a number. And yeah, it is a number, but there’s nothing “just” about it. Cynthia and I might as well be on two sides of a giant chasm.

  It’s not that Cynthia makes me feel old. It’s quite the opposite, really. I feel like my younger self when I’m with her. I feel hopeful. I look forward to more things. I’m more willing to mix up my routine. That’s how I was at twenty-one. I didn’t have a fixed routine, and I had nothing tying me down. I was willing to throw myself whole-heartedly into anything. Even a bad marriage.

  That serves to remind me how much has changed since I was that young though. I don’t want to be that foolish and ignorant version of myself anymore.

  And it might be ignorant to hope that Cynthia and I are meant to be together.

  That’s what I’ve gained with my advanced years: caution. It’s not glamorous. It’s not exciting, but it’s the truth. I’ve learned to be wary and careful. I’ve learned that just because I really want Cynthia doesn’t mean I should have her. It may not be right for me to request to keep her forever. Maybe she was only meant to come into my life for a brief window of time.

  I run my hand through my hair and shake my head. I hate getting all zen and philosophical like this. I cross to my kitchen in long angry strides, and I pour myself a few fingers of bourbon.

  I relish the burn in my throat as I take my first swallow.

  I’m not trying to get black-out drunk. I just want to have enough to dull the edge of panic I feel over Cynthia.

  I need to stay calm for the rest of the night, and then have an adult conversation with her tomorrow. I have to resign myself to that plan, because I refuse to burst into that party and yank her out of there.

  I try to think of other things, but as the numbers on the clock move towards 11, then beyond that, I can’t help picturing Cynthia. Maybe she’s wearing some makeup, or she’s dolled up in a special party outfit. She’s by her friend Becca’s side. I suppose Tommy would be there too. Cynthia has told me all about her trio of friends.

  She enters the party with a small smile on her lips, but she’s not that excited. Not yet. Then, as she stands in the corner clutching a drink, a college student, tall and gangly but still handsome approaches. He has to lean close to her dark tresses to be heard over the blaring music. Maybe he says something funny, and Cynthia laughs, the throaty sound of her mirth drawing him in until he’s fascinated. Who could ever not be fascinated by Cynthia Lannon? No one could resist her.

  She’ll look up at him and see someone as young as her. Someone who is also full of potential. He has so many paths he could follow, so many big and terrifying choices are still unmade. She will see that they could walk through life together. It would be so easy to be young with him. She’s going to medical school, and maybe he’s going to law school. It’s all nice and neat and simple.

  I clench my teeth and suddenly I’m back in my kitchen. I blink hard but the vision of Cynthia and her perfect match won’t go away. I’m gripping my glass so hard, it’s in danger of shattering.

  I suppose that’s one thing in my favor. I own nice glasses that I keep in my large kitchen. I own a home, and I have a solid career. Cynthia knows what she’s getting with me. There’s no gamble or uncertainty about how my life will turn out or who I will grow into. I’ve done all my growing. There’s no question as to who I am or who I will become.

  The only question about my future is whether Cynthia wants to be a part of it.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Cynthia

  I regret going to the party pretty much the second I walk in.

  First of all, I will never understand why it’s considered so uncool to start a party earlier than 11. I’ve had a long week. I’m tired. Why do I have to force myself to stay up late just because it’s super lame to show up early.

  I was practically nodding off to sleep while Becca finished up my makeup.

  I do have to hand it to my friend, she knows how to do a night out. We talked more than we had in a long time while we ate our take-out and selected our outfits. It was hard not bringing up Nate, but I steered the conversation to other topics like our medical school and graduation and summer plans. All those topics are hot-button issues with Nate and me since they make me so sad about our inevitable separation, so I haven’t really had anyone to discuss t
hem with. It’s nice to just be a normal student again.

  Of course, by the time I’m standing in the overheated and crowded dorm basement with the music turned so loud that my ears hurt, I’m missing Nate. A lot.

  Becca convinced me to wear her black mini-skirt with a cerulean blue crop-top. It’s a cute look, but I keep feeling a little self-conscious about the thin strip of skin showing above the waistline of the skirt.

  I’m not trying to attract male attention to night. I don’t need it. I have Nate.

  At least, I have Nate for now.

  Becca comes bobbing over to me where I’m standing in the corner, and she hands me a cup.

  “Beer!” she says.

  I smile and take it. “Thanks.”

  The beer is lukewarm and cheap. I guess everyone is enjoying the quintessential aspects of a college party before we all have to grow up.

  Growing up doesn’t sound too bad to me though. Spending time with Nate has verified that for me. I think it seems so nice to have a home of one’s own and a job. I’m looking forward to embarking on my career and adult life.

  It’s just a shame that the man who makes me so eager to be an adult is something I’ll have to leave behind as I grow.

  “Why are you frowning like that?” Becca hisses. “You look like you’re about to burst into tears, it’s scaring guys away.”

  I shrug. “I’m not really trying to find anyone tonight, Becs.”

  “I get it, I get it.” Becca raises her hands. “No one is good enough for Cynthia.”

  She gives my shoulder a nudge. I bite my tongue to keep from announcing the truth: there is one guy who is more than good enough.

  Just then Tommy saunters over, the disco lights from above turning half his face blue.

  “It’s crowded,” he says.

  “Yup, doesn’t it just give you a rush of adrenaline?” Becca asks.

  Tommy and I exchange dubious looks, but Becca is unconcerned. She grabs my hand, and we start to dance.