6

Jennifer Clayton

“Yes, that.” Vincent ’s voice was firm, his green eyes locking onto mine with such intensity that I couldn’t look away. “Jennifer , there’s no need to rush into dating. You should wait until there’s a man good enough for you.”

His words hit me in a way I wasn’t ready for, and I immediately felt the strange pull in my chest—a mix of annoyance and… something else I couldn’t quite place. His gaze was unrelenting, and it did something to me, like a spark threatening to ignite. I stepped back, pulling the towel tighter around me, trying to regain control.

“And who decides who’s good enough for me? You?” I shot back, my voice sharp with defensiveness. I didn’t want him making decisions for me. I was the one who controlled my life, not him. But a part of me wondered if maybe I was just pushing back because I didn’t know how to handle the unexpected tension between us.

Maybe you should do something about it then, big boy…

He raised an eyebrow, his expression a mix of confusion and something more dangerous. “I’m just saying you deserve better than someone like Dane.”

The mention of Dane made my heart tighten, but I pushed the feeling aside. “I know what I deserve,” I muttered, trying to sound more collected than I felt. “And I’m not rushing into anything. Actually, there hasn’t been anyone since him.”

Vincent sighed, his frustration palpable. He ran a hand through his dark hair, and for a fleeting moment, I thought I saw a flash of relief cross his face. But it was gone just as quickly as it had appeared.

“I’m just concerned about you,” he said, his tone softer but still carrying an edge. “You’re young. You have your whole life ahead of you. Don’t settle for anything less than perfection.”

I couldn’t help but smirk. “So, you’re saying I should aim higher? Maybe go for someone more mature, experienced?”

His eyes narrowed, the flames of frustration rising in them. For a moment, it felt like he might explode. “Don’t twist my words, Jennifer . You know what I mean.”

I stepped a little closer, feeling bold, and yet the uncertainty crept back in as soon as I did. “Do I? Because it sounds like you’re trying to dictate my love life.”

Why was I pushing him like this? Was I really trying to provoke him? Or maybe I was hoping he’d do something about it.

You do, you horny little slut.

His fists clenched at his sides, the muscles in his jaw tightening. “I’m not trying to dictate anything,” he said through gritted teeth, his voice low and firm. “I’m just giving you advice. Advice from someone who cares about you.”

That caught me off guard. The tension in the room seemed to dissolve just a little at his words, but there was still something unspoken lingering between us. I softened, realizing he wasn’t just being controlling—he was trying to protect me. “I know you care, Vincent ,” I said quietly. “But I can make my own decisions.”

He gave a slight nod, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—something that made my heart race in an entirely different way. “Yes, you can,” he agreed, his voice gentler now, but still serious. “But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be careful. You deserve someone who will treat you right.”

I looked down, the weight of his words settling heavily on my chest. “And what if I already know who that is?”

What the hell was I doing? I could feel myself spiraling, but it was like I couldn’t stop. I was walking a fine line between wanting him to say something and regretting every word I’d just spoken. Was I really ready for this conversation? For whatever was bubbling under the surface between us?

He didn’t answer right away, and when I finally looked back up, I saw his expression was unreadable. For a moment, it felt like the world had paused. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, his eyes locked on mine, and the weight of everything between us seemed to hang there, suspended in time.

“I hope he’s worthy of you,” Vincent finally said, his voice quiet but firm.

His words sent a shiver through me. I wasn’t sure if he was speaking as a protective figure or something more personal. The moment lingered for just a beat longer before he broke the silence with a small nod, his lips curving slightly upward into something close to a smile.

“Just be careful, Jennifer ,” he added, his tone light but still carrying a weight that made my heart skip.

I smiled back at him, my pulse still racing. “I will.”

Before I could gather my scattered thoughts, the sound of Bella’s voice interrupted the moment, cutting through the air like a knife. She strolled into the kitchen, looking as nonchalant as ever. The second her gaze landed on her father, she rolled her eyes with dramatic flair.

“Dad, stop being weird,” she said, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and plopping down at the table with a huff. She glanced at the pot of sauce, then at the still-boiling spaghetti noodles, clearly unimpressed with the slow pace of dinner.

I watched Vincent , taking in his quick shift back to his neutral, fatherly expression. It was as if the brief moment of connection between us had never existed. His focus shifted to the stove, stirring the sauce once again, while I struggled to collect myself. My heart was still beating in overdrive, and I needed a moment to catch my breath.

“I’m going to get changed out of my bathing suit,” I said, turning toward Bella. I needed to put some distance between myself and the way Vincent made me feel.

“Sure, we’ll be eating soon, if it’s ever ready that is,” Bella replied, already engrossed in her phone and uninterested in the parental drama unfolding.

“Ten more minutes,” Vincent called after me with a sigh, and I couldn’t help but chuckle as I made my way out of the kitchen, still reeling from everything that had just transpired.

Whatever had just happened between Vincent and me was gone. At least, I hoped it was. As I walked to the guest room, I tried to shake off the strange tension that still lingered in the air. It didn’t help that every step felt like a reminder of what we’d just shared. My pulse was still racing from the intensity of our conversation, and it wasn’t because of the normal things—like a heated argument or a serious conversation. It was more… personal.

Once inside the room, I closed the door behind me and immediately peeled off my damp swimsuit. The fabric clung to my skin for a moment before I discarded it and pulled on a fresh set of clothes. As I dressed, I replayed the conversation in my mind. His concern had been real—genuine, even—but it was more than just that. There was something else buried beneath his words. A subtle undertone that had sent a flutter through my chest. The way his eyes lingered on me, the sharp edge to his voice when he talked about me being careful—it made me wonder if there was more to his feelings than he was letting on.

I shook my head, trying to rid myself of the thoughts that were only making my heart race faster. This wasn’t right. He was my best friend’s father. I needed to stop thinking about him that way. But how could I, when everything felt so intense between us?

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, willing myself to relax. I had to focus on dinner tonight. I had to keep my mind on the present, on the people I cared about, and not on whatever it was that Vincent and I were skirting around.

Forcing myself to ignore the tension, I tried to push the thoughts of him away. Tonight would be challenging enough. I just had to enjoy my time with Bella, keep things light and fun. I had to stop fantasizing about what could never be.

For good.