V-Day Daddy Stalker (Book Boyfriends for Valentine’s)

Prologue

Dane

I shouldn’t be here. Hell, I know that better than anyone. But knowing something is wrong has never stopped me before. Not when it comes to her.

The late afternoon sun casts long shadows across the quiet street, wrapping me in just enough darkness to stay hidden. I’m crouched behind the hedges lining the edge of the property, close enough to see every detail but far enough to avoid being caught. Not that I ever let myself get too close. Watching is enough. It has to be.

At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.

There she is.

Her car rolls into the driveway, engine humming softly before it cuts off. She steps out, backpack slung over one shoulder, a few strands of her dark hair caught by the breeze. She’s wearing jeans and a fitted sweater that hugs her curves in a way that makes my pulse quicken. I clench my fists, the rough bark of the bush pressing into my palms, grounding me.

Breathe, Dane.

She doesn’t notice me. She never does. Why would she? To her, I’m just Uncle Dane—her dad’s best friend, the man who’s always been around but never quite belonged. Safe, harmless, invisible.

If only she knew.

I watch as she walks to the front door, pulling her keys from her bag, humming a quiet tune I can’t make out. The sound shouldn’t make my chest tighten, but it does. Everything about her does. The way she moves, the way her lips curve when she’s lost in thought. She has no idea the kind of power she holds.

The door clicks open, and she disappears inside. I exhale slowly, tension bleeding from my shoulders now that she’s out of sight. But the hunger remains, sharp and gnawing, like an itch I can’t scratch. It’s always there, growing stronger each time I see her.

I know this is wrong. Every second I’m here, watching her, makes me sink deeper into the dark. But I can’t stop. I don’t want to stop. Not when she’s the only thing that makes me feel alive anymore.

This isn’t just obsession. It’s something worse, something primal. And I know it won’t end until I have her.

But not yet. Not today. I can wait.

For her, I’ll wait as long as it takes.