Brock

Chapter 1

Five years later …

When I finally leave the airport, I'm exhausted.

I was in London for business, and while everything went exactly to plan, the travel always takes it out of me. The lucrative acquisition is worth it, though. The company I just bought on behalf of my own business is a perfect fit for the plans I have for the future, and well, the financial benefit means we'll all get to grow over the next few years as well. Digital security is a booming industry and it's only going to get more profitable from here.

Security isn't my first love, but it pays the bills and more. I got started developing social media algorithms, but security has been a lot more stable, even with the changes in technology. Getting into programming for security is what allowed me to pay for my home, after all. I've got the head and business sense for it, and the industry has rewarded me handsomely for staying ahead of the game.

As exciting as my work can be, I'm glad to be back home. I grew up in this city, fell in love here, raised my kid in the middle of all the hustle and bustle. Even though I was born into comfort, New York has a habit of keeping you on your toes. I've had to work my ass off to get where I am and I've relished every single challenge that's come my way. Even though I'm into my early forties, I don't feel the need to slow down at all.

Not that the city would ever let me—that's why I love it here so much.

As I step into the car I had my assistant order for me, I find myself thinking about my legacy. I got married young—which proved to be a mistake, but we can't have it all, I suppose. Fresh out of college, Caroline and I decided to go for it, and soon after, we had Olivia. She's in her first year of college already. Perhaps I should be more worried about her—she does have more than a little bit of her mother's wild side in her—but at heart, she's a good kid.

Uh, person .

She's nineteen now, not really a kid any longer. To me, however, she'll always be my kid. I've done a lot of stupid shit in my life, but I've never regretted having her. Not once. Even when we argued about her post-high school plans, we were both stubborn enough to finally find some common ground. In that regard, she definitely takes after me.

As I enter the code to get into the penthouse, I brace myself for the silence I know will greet me. I'm still not quite used to her being out of the house yet, but such is the life of a new empty-nester. While she's going Columbia and lives in the dorms there, she still comes home when she can, but her spring break just started, so she's probably off partying with her friends or something.

When I open the door, however, I hear laughter instead.

I pause after I step inside, letting the door close behind me with a soft click. I didn't realize how much I missed this, coming home to someone making noise and living where I live.

And then I recognize the other voice laughing. Felicia, my daughter's best friend.

I take a deep breath.

Not only is my own child a grown woman now, so is her best friend. Unlike my own daughter, however, I don't need any reminding that she's an adult. She somehow does that all by herself.

Smart, driven, quietly tenacious—Felicia works harder than most of the people working for me. I was stunned to learn that she'd deferred the scholarship she'd been working towards for her entire high school career. Instead, she decided to take a gap year and started working at a market full time.

At the time, I'd wanted to pull her aside and get to the bottom of her decision, but it felt like an overstep.

Everything has always felt like an overstep of some sort with her. She was so young when she first started tutoring Olivia, running across the city all by herself like she was. It was all I could do not to send her home every time she was here in a cab, instead of letting her fend for herself.

And now that she's an adult?

God knows I cannot let myself overstep. I can't start down that dangerous road. It could lead to other things. It would lead to other things. I don't even know what things she herself wants, but I cannot be the one to give them to her.

"Olivia?" I call out as I make my way toward the kitchen. "I'm home!"

The laughter dies down a little and suddenly, Felicia appears from around the hallway. My heart gives a traitorous flip in my chest.

Her riot of curly dark hair has gotten long enough to bounce around her slender shoulders. The shirt she's wearing shows off inches of creamy, soft skin, drawing my eyes to her collarbones and the delicate tendons of her neck. My mouth waters at the thought of tasting her, of sliding my tongue against her delicate flesh, making her shiver and sigh in my arms.

"Hi, Mr. Harlow!" she says, her face bright enough to blind.

I sigh inwardly. It's probably better that I still haven't gotten her to call me by my first name, but I can tell she seems to think it's a joke at this point to defy my wishes. It's almost like she's teasing me, acting out to see how far she can push me before I bend her over and—

"How did the business deal go?" she asks. "Did you conquer London?"

She's standing far too close, looking up at me with wide, innocent eyes that can't hide the strange glint in her eyes.

I've known for years that she's got a crush on me. She probably thought she was being subtle, and at first I didn't think anything of it. But over time, it became more and more obvious. None of Olivia's friends, even the ones she's had much longer than Felicia, look at me the way this little girl does.

If she hadn't been such an incredible influence on my daughter, I might have done more to discourage the affection. In the end, it was too important to me that Olivia finally get the chance to have someone build her up like Felicia does. She's never been catty or cruel, even when they have the fights that all friends do sometimes. I'm certain that even if I wasn't around, Felicia would be as true a friend to her as she is now.

But then the schoolgirl grew up. She traded the dowdy school uniform for the tasteful vintage finds she and my daughter went all over the city looking for. She grew out of the occasional acne break out and into lush skin and wild hair. When she looks up at me through her long, dark lashes with those fathomless green eyes of her, the longing is still there.

It's been absolute hell, resisting her like have.

As much as I want to get my mouth on her, to sink my cock into her tight little body and give her what she's so clearly wanted from me for the past several months, I can't. She's utterly off limits. My kid's best friend? How could I do that to either of them? She's fucking nineteen—just a little less than half my age. I'm not old, and I certainly don't consider myself as such, but she's still got so much of life ahead of her.

"Can I help you?" she asks, following me to the kitchen. "What do you want, Mr. Harlow? What can I get for you?"

Her voice is a soft purr as she draws close to me at the counter, her eyes locked with mine as she waits for my answer.

Thank god I've got a practiced poker face and can remain outwardly stoic, even though the heat radiates off her, making the scent off of her shampoo that much headier. Already I can feel my cock strain against the fly of my trousers. I know she struggles with self-confidence in her appearance, but she's beautiful. That's the only thing she's foolish about—she doesn't recognize how gorgeous she is. I tear my eyes away from her and reach for the cannister of coffee beans on the counter.

Jet lag is the perfect excuse I need to get out of this situation, but not before I get some questions answered.

"Why are you two still here?" I ask. "Isn't it spring break? Don't you have partying to do?"

She pulls a face. "Most people don't get spring breaks, you know. I certainly don't, at least."

That again. She isn't most people, contrary to what she may think. I want to ask her why she never followed through with that scholarship. It was a full ride and everything, and she'd worked so fucking hard for it. I was there when she opened her acceptance letter with Olivia, and I'd never seen them scream with excitement like that before. Then out of the blue, she said she was going to defer the offer to take a gap year, and got a job after graduation instead.

"Well, I'm glad you're keeping Olivia company," I say, distracted as she leans across the wide counter to plug in the coffee grinder for me.

Her full breasts strain against the fabric of her bra, printing against her shirt lushly. The hem of the shirt rides up a little, revealing just enough skin at her little waist to make my head swim. My fingers curl around the cannister in my hands to keep themselves from reaching for her.

This is too much. She's too much.

"Honestly, she's keeping me company, not the other way around," Felicia says as she straightens back up. "Olivia had like six offers to join people on trips but she stayed here instead because she thinks it's more relaxing. I think she's being ridiculous but …"

Our eyes meet as I scoop out coffee beans to grind and she shrugs at me.

I can't do it, I can't avoid it any longer. "Why did you give up the scholarship, Felicia? You should be on your break now too. You could have gone to those parties together."

I have to admit, the idea that they'd be at some wild college party together makes my blood boil. My daughter in the arms of some handsy asshole? Felicia in the arms of some tiny twirp? While the anger on behalf of each of them is different, I can't help it in either case. It all makes me want to put a dent in the stainless steel front of my fucking fridge.

But still. She's young. She should be out there being young and doing foolish things while she still can, not working however many hours it is that she does at that grocery market she works at.

Felicia bites her lip and shrugs, trying to seem nonchalant. "It's personal. The experience is still valuable, you know? And the admissions department said I could defer the scholarship for a few years, so it's not like I can't still go in the future."

"What happened to pursuing library science? I thought you wanted to get a literature degree and then pursue a masters."

The noise she makes is too hollow to be a laugh. "In retrospect, that doesn't feel really practical, does it?"

"Librarians are nothing but practical. And you seemed so passionate about it—"

"Real life doesn't give a shit what I'm passionate about," she snaps.

"Felicia …" I've never heard her speak like this. I'm not sure what to say or do as she registers what she just said. She shakes her head and steps back, her chest heaving. When I meet her eyes, I see that she's got tears beginning to gather at her lashes.

Something dark and strange kindles within me.

I want to pull her into my arms and wipe the tears away. Tell her that she shouldn't have to work so hard, whatever her reasons are. Soothe the anger and hurt on her face, show her what it would be like to be loved like she deserves.

If only I could spirit her away and do just that.

She's often gone on short trips with Olivia and I. Nothing longer than a week usually, because of their school schedules and the needs of my company. While she always seemed to enjoy them, Felicia would start getting antsy to return home after a few days. I never knew why, but now I'm beginning to wonder if it's the same thing that's keeping her from pursuing her dreams.

"Felicia," my daughter suddenly calls. She's standing in the hallway entrance, scrolling on her phone. "Stop helping my dad make coffee and come pick a movie for me to buy us tickets to."

The longing look that Felicia gives me as she starts walking back to her friend sets my blood on fire.

No longer does she seem to be pining for me like she did when she was younger. The heat in her eyes is real and stronger than ever.

I remind myself as I watch them disappear back into my daughter's room that nothing can ever come of me pursuing her like I want to. Even if her situation, as mysterious as it is to me still, fills me with rage, I can't do anything about it. She has too much life ahead of her to get wrapped up in some torrid love affair with a man over twice her age.

She's far too precious for me to rob her of her innocence like that.