Sleeping with my Best Friend's Father

Amara Christmas always had a way of bleeding into everything, and I hated it. Even as I folded the last sweater into my suitcase, the soft glow of the neighbors’ decorations seeped through my bedroom curtains and painted red and green stripes across my floor. I hated that as well, but I tried not to look at them. I’d spent the past week pretending the holiday didn't exist, pretending it was just another break, pretending the world wasn’t covered in twinkling lights and false cheer. But the jingles drifting in from next door made my jaw clench anyway. I zipped the suitcase hard enough that the metal teeth snarled at me. “Amara?” My mom’s voice echoed from the hallway. I could already hear the sadness in her voice and I hadn't even answered her yet. “Are you sure you don’t want to leave in the morning? It’s freezing out.” “I’m sure,” I called back, forcing my tone steady. “I want to get settled early.” A lie. A well practiced one. If I stayed here one more night, I’d have to sit through Christmas Eve dinner, pretend I wasn’t thinking about what had happened last year, pretend I didn’t remember the icy cold tearing through my chest when I saw my ex boyfriend’s mouth Ryan, on someone else under the stupid mistletoe I’d bought. Pretend the matching pajamas I’d wrapped carefully hadn’t ended up in the trash that same night. Leaving was easier, running was easier. Those were the words I told myself, and now I believed it. Maybe. I tugged my coat on, trying to swallow the sour taste rising in my throat. My mother appeared in the doorway, arms crossed, worry lining her forehead. “You could stay you know,” she said softly. “I'm sure law school wouldn't see you any less if you spent Christmas with your family.” I stared at her for a split second, and that was it. I couldn't afford to hold her gaze any longer, because I could see the same sadness in her eyes, the only difference was the fact that we were sad about two different things. I wanted to tell her the truth, but I couldn’t. I didn’t say why. I just reached for my suitcase. “I’ll be fine, Mom.” “Alright, Amara.” She kissed my cheek, her hand lingering like she knew exactly what I was doing, but didn’t want to say it out loud. “Text me when you get there.” “I will.” I gave her one last hug before I stepped out into the cold, with my bag trailing behind me, and before she could give me another chance to stay. The drive was supposed to be peaceful, with snow and silence and open roads. But the snow thickened as soon as I hit the highway, and by the time I reached the city, the storm had its own heartbeat, slamming wet flakes against the windshield like tiny fists. I kept repeating to myself, hoping it would somehow make things better. Campus will be quiet. I’ll drown myself in textbooks. No memories. No holidays. No heartbreak. But the time I reached the law school campus, it was nearly eight. The storm had turned violent, blowing icy sheets of wind across the courtyard, the kind that made my eyes water instantly. I dragged my suitcase up to the main gate, and stopped. Not because I wanted to, because I was forced to. A giant metal lock hung across the bars like a taunt. “What?” My voice rasped in the cold. I didn't want to believe it, but pulling at the bars confirmed my worst fears. Nothing. I pressed my face closer, trying to see through the swirling snow. Every building was dark. The dorm windows were black, the library closed. Even the Security booth? Empty. As I took in the disaster staring at me, I fought the overwhelming urge to cry. Until something else caught my attention, that is. A sheet of paper taped crookedly to the gate read: CAMPUS CLOSED FOR CHRISTMAS WEEK — REOPENS JANUARY 2ND “No. No, no, no…”My heart sank into my boots. My suitcase wheels jammed in the snow as I dragged it back and forth, pacing, panicking, my breath fogging in frantic clouds. This couldn't be happening. Not right now. Going back home was even out of the picture at the moment. There was no way I would be able to get a car ride back home. I'd booked this one a week earlier just to get here. Shit, s**t, s**t. My mind was a mess, but somehow, I remembered I still had one option. I pulled out my phone, and regretted it immediately. Twenty percent battery. Perfect. After three failed calls, to campus security, to the housing office, to the student helpline, I finally pressed on the only number that made sense. Lila. She picked up on the fourth ring, sounding breathless with loud music echoing behind her. “Ames! Merry…. ” I cut her off before she could finish. “Lila, everything’s closed.” My voice cracked in a way I hated. “The school. The dorms. I can’t get in.” “What? Oh my gosh.” It was her turn for her voice to crack. Static rang through the call, but only for a few seconds, before the music died down. She must have gone somewhere quieter. “Are you on campus right now?” “Yes.” My teeth were chattering. “I, I can’t stay outside. It’s freezing.” “Oh my God.” She went silent for a moment, then. “Okay, okay, where’s the nearest hotel?” “I can’t afford a hotel right now.” It hurt to even say it. The plan had been to find a job on or off campus , but apparently , that plan had been put on hold. “And the taxis said they’re not picking up anymore because of the storm.” Lila cursed softly under her breath. I hugged my arms tight around myself, trying to stop the shaking. Snowflakes clung to my eyelashes, melting into cold streaks down my cheeks. I loved a little adventure every now and then, but this was a disaster. “I shouldn’t have come early,” I whispered. “I blame Ryan too.” I wanted to add, but decided against it. He wasn't being miserable, so why should I? “Well you did,” Lila snapped gently, the way she always did when she was panicking for me. “And you’re not staying outside. You’ll freeze.” I waited as she thought. And then she said it, the sentence that made my stomach twist so violently I felt dizzy. “My dad’s mansion is ten minutes from you.” “Lila, no.” I closed my eyes. “Yes.” She let out again. “He’ll let you stay.” “You know I can’t…” I'd barely gotten any words out before she cut me off again. “Amara, it’s freezing. You’re alone.” She said slowly, like a mother speaking to a child. “You are not going to wander around in a snowstorm. He’s literally right there, just call him.” “No, Lila.” I shook my head, snowflakes falling off my hair. “I can’t stay with your dad.” “Why not?” she asked, and immediately, I thought of a million reasons why I couldn't. Because I can’t be alone with him, because I haven’t been able to look at him normally since I was nineteen, because he looks at people like he sees right through their clothes. Because my pulse triples every time he says my name, because I’ve had dreams about a man I have no right to dream about. I swallowed all of that down. “Lila, it’s inappropriate.” was the response I went with instead. “Amy,” she sighed, “he’s not going to seduce you or something. It’s just my dad.” That was the problem.He wasn’t just anything. Lucien Navarro was carved from danger and elegance, sharp lines, sharp eyes, and an even sharper voice. He was a walking contradiction of cold control and burning charm, the kind of man whose presence commanded silence without him needing to move. In short, the kind of man I craved but couldn't have. The last time I saw him, he’d lifted a glass of wine to his lips and looked at me like I was something he wanted to taste, and I’d nearly forgotten how to breathe. “I promise,” Lila continued, “he won’t mind. He’ll probably be annoyed that I didn't suggest it sooner.” I stared down at my boots sinking into the snow, my fingers going numb around my phone. The wind had picked up now, and if I spent any more time out here, I would be an icicle next. Five minutes max. “I don’t have any other options, do I?” it was more of a whisper than anything else. “Nope,” she said flatly. “Not unless you want frostbite. Dad’s address is still in my messages. I’ll text him right now and tell him you’re coming.” My pulse stumbled. “Lila…” “You’re going,” she decided. “End of discussion. Love you, and stay alive.” The call ended. I stood there for a moment, listening to the wind howl against the locked gates, my chest rising and falling like I’d run a mile. Then my phone buzzed with a new message. Dad said he’ll pick you up. Stay where you are. My breath caught as realization dawned on me. Lucien Navarro was coming. For me. In the middle of a snowstorm. I pressed a shaking hand to my mouth, heat coiling low in my stomach despite the freezing cold. This was dangerous, stupid, and reckless, but as I turned toward the road, suitcase in tow, I knew something with Lucien was already shifting, pulling me toward something forbidden and dark and inevitable. Whether it would save me, or ruin me, I didn’t know yet. Shit.