Trapped with My Best Friend’s Dad by Flora Ferrari

Chapter Twenty-One

Rayla

I sit at the window with Tanker in my lap, looking out upon the sunny morning landscape. It’s been three days since the storm started. It officially ended last night, which means that Millie’s had plenty of time to arrange her flight up here.

“She should be here any minute,” I murmur, moving my hands almost obsessively over Tanker’s fur, as though by stroking the little guy I can distract myself from what we have to do.

“Yeah,” Roman says, standing on the other side of the room.

I can’t even risk glancing at him. Every time I look at him, I think about how wonderful the past few days have been, when the storm kept going and gave us an excuse to spend more and more time together.

After that first awakening in the bedroom – when my body told me I could definitely take my man – we made love four more times. Once with me on top, digging my fingernails into his chest as I writhed and bounced, hoping I wasn’t making a fool of myself.

But his moans and growling breaths told me how much he enjoyed it, losing himself in the complete carnality of the release.

We stare out at the sunny road together – the water of the lake twinkling, the trees verdant green, the sky clear, as though there was never a storm at all.

But we can’t pretend the rest of it didn’t happen.

Each moment, each breath, I fight to stay where I am, to stop myself from running across the room and into my man’s arms. Or drag him upstairs and sit in his office as he types, my notebook out as I continue to work on my play. I did that last night, as he was writing, scrawling in my notebook.

There’s something about being with him – even wordlessly – that lets me know I can face anything.

Tanker suddenly leaps from my lap, standing still with his head cocked, his tail pricked.

“What is it, boy?” I ask.

“He can hear her,” Roman says, his voice gruff and severe.

I risk a glance at him, my womb giving a pulse, my heart thundering. He’s wearing a shirt with the sleeves rolled up, open at the neck, showing me glimpses of his irrepressible muscles. But it’s the light in his eyes that drives me crazy… the light he gets just before he kisses me before he claims me.

When we make love, we don’t have to think about anything. But the time for putting off our responsibilities is over.

“She’s here?” I murmur.

He sighs, eyes flitting from me to Tanker to the outside world, the world we were able to pretend didn’t exist when the storm was raging.

“Yes, it’s time.”

* * *

“So this seems just a tad serious.” Millie giggles as she drops into the chair opposite me. She’s wearing her favorite black beanie hat and a checkered black shirt, the sleeves folded to show the blue butterfly tattoo on her wrist. “I was expecting pancakes and a hello, not an intervention.”

Roman chuckles, but I can hear how hollow it is, how forced.

We agreed that we had to tell Millie the second she got here. We couldn’t lie to her face, sneak around her back, engage in any of that nonsense. It would be too cruel and deceptive.

What, and fucking him without telling her wasn’t? a hateful voice screams inside of me.

“I’ll make us some pancakes soon,” Roman says. “That is if you can stomach them.”

“Hey, your cooking isn’t that bad.”

Millie smiles, but then it falters as her eyes flit between us. Even the arrangement is suspicious, with me and Roman on one side of the table and Millie on the other.

We sit near the dining room window, looking out upon the water, with so much radiance and light blooming across the landscape. But in here it feels harsh, on-edge.

“What’s going on?” she says, a quiver in her voice. “You need to start talking. You’re both acting weird. I’ve never seen you act like this before, either of you.”

I open my mouth to speak, but words desert me.

Instead, I make a strangled sighing noise, something between a croak and a sob. I paw at my cheeks, anger whelming in me when I think about how unfair it is of me to cry.

“Hey, hey.” Millie reaches across the table and takes my hand. “What is it, Rayla? Can somebody please talk to me?”

“Millie, we have something to tell you,” Roman says, his voice gruff, as though he’s holding back a torrent of his own. “You’re going to be confused. Maybe angry. But please give us a chance to explain.”

“Save me the preamble,” she says, a fierce note in her voice as she lets my hand go. “Dad, just tell me what’s going on.”

He takes a deep breath. “Rayla and I are together.”

“Yeah, duh.” She laughs, nodding at us. “Is this some kind of a joke? I can see that you’re together…”

She slowly trails off as the realization visibly shows on her face, as her cheeks drop and her eyebrows shoot up to her forehead. Her mouth falls open and she stares at us for a long time, as though waiting for us to speak.

“You mean together, as in together,” she whispers.

“Yes,” I say, struggling to force the word out. “It all happened so fast and—”

“As in you’re in a relationship?” she says. “You’re – what – boyfriend and girlfriend?”

I look across at Roman with a question in my eye, confident he’ll be able to read me. He’s shown an impressive ability to read me ever since we met, and it’s only gotten stronger and more significant since we made love.

It’s like our souls have fused as much as our bodies.

“Yes,” he says. “We’re boyfriend and girlfriend.”

“But when?” Millie says, shaking her head as her gaze moves between us. “I don’t understand. You two have never met.”

Roman laughs gruffly, his deep voice making it seem like the whole room is trembling. Shivers move through me, even now, even when I should be completely focused on the disbelief flaring in Millie’s eyes.

I don’t see any judgment though, any pain, any sign that she hates us like I was convinced she would. She stares as though she’s trying to make sense of it, rather than wanting to tear the whole thing down.

“We met when she arrived here,” Roman says softly. “I know it’ll probably make no sense to you, but I fell for her the second I saw her. I looked at her and… and everything clicked, Millie. Hell, it makes no sense to me. If I didn’t feel it, I wouldn’t believe it. But I—”

He cuts himself off, causing my gaze to snap to him as my mind flows with what he was possibly going to say, as the word love flurries into my mind. Is that what he was going to say, that he loves me?

“What, Dad?” Millie asks.

“I want to be with her forever,” he says, his voice passionate and intense. “It’s all I can think about and I’m sorry, Millie. I’m so sorry that this started without your knowledge. I’m so sorry we didn’t tell you about it.”

“Wait.” Millie holds her hand up, turning to me. “Rayla, do you feel the same? Because I have to say, this is a lot to try and take on board. I feel like I’m going freaking crazy or something.”

“I feel the same,” I tell her with confidence bursting in my voice.

But it’s the confidence I have in us, in me and Roman, not confident that Millie is going to be okay with it all. I can’t pretend to be sure about that, not when her expression is so difficult to read.

“I felt the same the second I saw him. I’m so sorry for not telling you right away when we spoke on the phone. I should have. But it was so… So quick. I thought we could get over it. No, no, that’s not true. I’m sorry. I can’t lie to you. I knew there was no way we were going to get over it.”

“It all happened in the past few days?” she murmurs.

“Yes,” Roman and I say at the same time, and then glance over at each other, emotion searing between us.

For a second I think we’re going to lean in and kiss.

The pull is so strong, the intense look in his eyes so captivating. He stares at me as though the world didn’t make sense before I came along, and now that we have each other he never has to question anything else again.

“You’ve fallen for each other this hard in a few days?”

I have to force myself to look at Millie. The pull of my man is almost overpowering, drumming through me, making me want to do wild things when I should be thinking about anything else.

“Yes,” I tell her. “I know it sounds crazy, but it’s the truth.”

“I’ve written, Millie.”

She gasps. “What? How?”

Roman nods at me, causing a flutter in my chest. “I know it’s crazy, but there was something about Rayla sitting in the room with me. She just sat there and when I looked over at her, I didn’t have to think about that empty feeling inside of me anymore. I didn’t have to worry. I could just be.”

Millie stares at us both, her mouth hanging open, her gaze slowly moving from me to her father and then back again.

Then she stands up, laughing with a low tone of voice, as though she doesn’t want to laugh at all.

“Okay, this is just insane. I’m going to run into town and… And get some food. Or a drink. Or something. I need to think.”

Before we have a chance to stop her, she turns away, striding out of the room.

I stand up, a feeling of profound powerlessness drumming through me.

Roman leans forward and softly touches my hand, shaking his head.

“Give her time,” he says. “She’ll be back when she’s ready.”