The Secret We Couldn’t Keep (FALLING FOR MY BEST FRIEND’S DAD)

 I’d always thought Mr. Carter was handsome—in that untouchable, older-man way—but the night of Emily’s graduation party, something shifted. The way his gaze lingered on me across the crowded backyard, dark and intense, sent a flush creeping up my neck. When he handed me a drink, his fingers brushed mine, and the spark between us was undeniable.

"You look… stunning," he said, his voice low enough that only I could hear. The compliment shouldn’t have affected me like it did, but the way his eyes raked over my body made my breath catch. I took a sip of my drink to hide my smile, but he noticed—he always noticed. "Careful," he murmured, leaning in. "That smile of yours is dangerous."

The tension between us grew with every stolen moment. A hand on my lower back as he passed by. A shared laugh that lasted just a second too long. When he pulled me into the empty study under the pretense of grabbing more ice, I knew exactly what he wanted. The door clicked shut, and suddenly, his hands were framing my face, his lips inches from mine. "Tell me to walk away," he challenged, his breath warm against my skin.

I didn’t.

The kiss was slow at first—testing, teasing—but when I whimpered into his mouth, he lost control. His hands slid down my body, gripping my hips as he backed me against the desk. "You’ve been driving me crazy all night," he growled, nipping at my jaw. The way he touched me—like he’d been imagining this for years—made my knees weak.

When he lifted me onto the desk, his mouth trailed down my neck, worshipping every inch of skin he uncovered. His hands were firm but reverent, like I was something precious. "I shouldn’t want you this much," he admitted, his voice rough. But the way he looked at me—like I was the only thing that mattered—told me this was more than just desire.

Afterward, as we caught our breath, he tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, his touch unbearably tender. "This isn’t just a one-time thing for me," he confessed, his thumb brushing my cheek. And when he kissed me again—soft, lingering, full of promise—I knew he meant it.