Chapter 1 #2
She sighs happily as she walks in, and takes a deep breath.
“I always loved this room,” she says, walking over to the shelves that line the walls, running her finger along a line of history books. “I used to talk Laurie into asking you to let us do our homework here.”
I laugh softly, perching on the edge of my desk, and watch her walk around. “I remember, you two sprawled out here on the floor with your millions of books.”
“Feels like a lifetime ago.” She sounds so wistful I can’t help but smile.
“Wait til you’re my age, when you have a memory that spans back way more than 30 years.”
Amber flashes me a smile and shakes her head. “You really need to stop talking about how old you are, because you’re not that old.” Her eyes drop to the floor, and her cheeks blush pink. “Laurie used to hate it, but we all talked about you being the Hot Dad.”
I laugh out loud, covering my embarrassment. “You did not.”
“We did. We all used to watch you jogging around the neighborhood with no shirt on.” Amber lifts her eyes again with a grin, covering her face with her hands. “I can’t believe I just admitted that to you.”
“Hey, with any luck Alzheimer's will kick in by this afternoon and I’ll forget.”
Amber drops her hands with a roll of her eyes. “Mr Rembrook, stop it.”
“Please call me Theo,” I say, lifting my hands. “Mr Rembrook makes me feel like I’m back in a lecture hall.”
“Ok, Theo.” She drawls my name, eyes fixed directly on mine.
That felt like flirting. I give myself an internal slap. Goddammit, what has gotten into you?
“So, how’s college?” I ask quickly, desperate to change the subject and to stop thinking about these pretty brown eyes gazing at my face.
Amber sighs, but this time it isn’t a happy sound. She twirls a strand of copper hair around her finger, turning back to gaze up and down the bookshelf.
“It’s fine. I have good professors, and I kind of like it all more than I thought I would.” She takes a green and gold bound book from the shelf, turning so I can see her profile, and flips through the pages. “Architecture is kind of wild. I discovered I like bridges.”
“Bridges, huh?”
She meets me with a smile, and nods. “How they’re built, and everything that goes into deciding what will stay up and what will fall. You think a bridge is just, like, Point A to Point B. But it’s so much more than that.”
“Amber Pope, future Bridge Builder?” I laugh as she blushes. “Sounds good to me.”
“Yeah, well, I can hope I guess.” She looks over at me. “And how about you?”
“Same as always,” I reply with a shrug. “Classes are classes. But I am working on my PhD, so…” I don’t know what else to say to this bright young woman to make my boring, middle-aged life sound any more interesting, so I just shrug again.
“Are you seeing anyone?”
I’m sure my face betrays just how much that question, coming from Amber, throws me. I try to stutter out a reply, in the face of this young woman who is just gazing at me with soft eyes.
“Uh... Uh, I, um, no. I haven’t really, uh…” I almost choke on my damn spit trying to swallow and wet my throat, but Amber just keeps looking at me. “No, no. You?” WHY? YOU STUPID ASS, WHY DID YOU ASK HER THAT?
Amber’s eyes drop to the floor, and she shakes her head slowly. “No. Well, not anymore.” She laughs, another unhappy sound, and she puts the book back on the shelf, sliding it back into its place with a decided thud. “More fool me, I guess.”
My protective instincts kick in, and I stand up straighter. “Did someone hurt you?”
Amber waves a hand without looking at me. “Nothing I won’t survive.”
“Amber.”
“He was just some loser.” She turns to face me, frowning. “I thought when a guy says that he loves you, that he’d mean it. He didn’t. So…” It’s her turn to trail off now, to shrug, the corners of her mouth tugging a little to show just how much this fucking asshole hurt her.
“I know people,” I say, and Amber’s face breaks into a smile. “Just saying.”
“You gonna get your buddies to beat up a college kid for me?”
“If that’s what you want. You just say the word.”
Amber laughs softly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Good.” I break the hold her eyes have on mine, and round my desk to sit down. “Now, which books were you wanting? I can’t even remember which ones I suggested.”
“I think they were down here,” Amber says.
“Where?” I look up to see which shelf she’s bent down to reach… And freeze.
Amber Pope, my daughter’s best friend, a fucking twenty-year-old woman, is bent over, legs slightly apart, her skirt riding up to reveal that she isn’t wearing panties.
And I’m staring at what’s right there, not even 9 feet away from me, pink and soft and smooth.
I practically punch myself in the groin, willing the bulge that’s already springing up to disappear. How can I be staring at…
Wait.
Wait.
“Amber,” I say, my voice dropping into a tenor that I haven’t used in some fucking time, and not the tone of voice I should use right fucking now.
She straightens, looking over her shoulder at me, her face the picture of innocence.
“Yes, sir?”
Punching myself in the groin isn’t fucking enough. Why don’t I have a bucket of ice water under my desk?
“Amber, what are you doing?”
“Looking for a book. Why?”
I frown, leaning back in my chair. “A book?”
“Yes, sir.” She turns back to the shelf, and leans back down, bending at the waist, and again her skirt rides up, and again, reveals that sweet, pink pussy. “I’m sure it was right down here.”
That wasn’t an accident. That wasn’t a goddamn accident. Amber is bending over in my office and showing herself to me on purpose.
For a moment, I don’t know what to do. I know what I should do.
I’m old enough to be this girl’s father, for god’s sake.
I’m better than the caveman instincts that are kicking in, telling me to go over there and drop to my knees, to taste what’s being presented to me.
I’m a grown man, I can exercise some self-restraint, and not think about what this girl tastes like, what she feels like, what sounds she’d make when - No, stop it.
I slowly get to my feet, staying securely behind the desk, because I need there to be some barrier between us. If there’s not… Yeah, I don’t need to think about that right now.
“Amber,” I say softly. “Honey, I think you should go.”
She straightens slowly and puts her hands on the shelf. Her shoulders draw up a little as she takes a deep breath.
“You… don’t like me?”
Oh no. No, no, not good. Bad.
“Of course I like you. But-”
“But what?” She turns around to face me, her eyes hooded and sexy. “I’m not your type?”
I grunt out an embarrassed laugh. “God, listen, that is not the problem at all. You’re gorgeous. Really. And I am extremely flattered. If I were twenty years younger, you’d absolutely be my type. But-”
“But what?”
“Amber, you’re my daughter’s best friend.
” I try to keep my tone even, caught between exasperation and arousal, regretting the decision to get to my feet because I’m sure my jeans aren’t doing a good job hiding just what she’s done to me.
“You’re a young woman, you were a kid doing her homework in my office just a few years ago. ”
“I had a crush on you back then,” Amber admits, her hands hidden behind her again. “When I was 17, I used to think… I used to wonder if you were a good kisser.”
I rub my forehead and wince. “Listen, you’re a beautiful girl, you really are. And if things were different-”
“If I were some girl in a bar that you just met and wasn’t friends with your daughter?” She takes a few steps towards my desk. “If I didn’t know you and you didn’t know me, would you take me home then?”
Her face is so determined, so set with desire, and she’s definitely not a girl anymore. She’s a woman making her intentions clear, letting me know what she wants, and that she wants me. But it’s wrong, so wrong.
“Laurie would kill me,” I say pathetically. “I mean, what would you do if one of your friends slept with your dad?”
Amber shrugs. “You’re just changing the subject now.”
I run my hands through my hair. “Amber, listen, I am too old for you. I am not the kind of guy you should be pursuing. You need to be dating young guys, who you can plan a future with, who-”
“Who fuck me missionary and ask me if I came?” Amber laughs harshly. “Who can’t find the clit and get pissed when you point it out to them? Who want head but won’t go down on you? Those are the guys I should be wasting my time on?”
I cross my arms over my chest and frown. “Is that what this is about? You… want someone with experience?”
“Maybe?” She juts out her chin, pursing those full, glossy lips. “Guys my age have no idea what they’re doing. And they’ll say anything to get you into bed, they’ll even say they love you. I don’t feel safe with them, and I want to know what that feels like. I deserve that, don’t I?”
I sigh, my shoulders dropping. “Yes, you do, of course you do. I’m so sorry you’ve been treated that way. But you have to know, I’m not the answer to that.”
“Why not?” A few more steps towards my desk, her gaze never once breaking from my face. “I’m not asking for anything serious. I don’t expect that. I just… I want to experience things with someone who’ll care for me, who’ll make me feel good. And I want to feel safe while I do it.”
“I… Look, again, I am flattered. But…” I huff out a breath. “What makes you think I’m going to be so different? That I’m going to be so much better in bed than these guys at college?”
Amber chews on her lip for a second, then gives me a shy smile. “Have you ever had any complaints?”
“That is really not a question to ask a guy,” I say with an embarrassed laugh. “We’re pretty terrible at self-awareness most of the time.”