It’s hard to fall sleep. I lie in bed, thinking about how Axel feels when he’s here in my bed with me. I so wanted to ask him to stay with me tonight, because watching him hold his own against my dad was so incredibly sexy, I just ached to pounce on him. But he was respecting my father by leaving, not sleeping with me, and I appreciated that. Says a lot about his character.

I flip onto my side and fluff my pillow with a fist. I can’t stop thinking about Axel. And now that I know my father likes him, it makes it even harder to not desire him. I knew if Daddy took time to get to know Axel, he’d see in him the things that I do—a smart, clever man who has big goals.

Yeah, his goals are different than ours, but that doesn’t make them any less important or interesting. Or valid.

It took days for me to work up the nerve to ask Daddy to meet him. Hell, it took a while for me to get over being mad at my father for what he said to me the other day. But once we talked, he apologized for being so abrasive about his opinion. The fact that he was willing to meet Axel on more equal ground made me feel heartened.

And he gave it a genuine chance. Yes, things were stilted and a bit cold between them at first. But the two men warmed to each other quicker than I expected, and the conversation flowed naturally. I wasn’t even a part of the discussion for a good chunk, which was fine. I liked seeing them bond. It made me feel like I have a real chance with Axel, and Daddy would be okay with it.

What is going to happen between us? I allow myself to fantasize about what we could be. I want more of him, and I want him to crave more of me. Does he feel like I do? I’m so tempted to text him right now, to see if he’s thinking about me too, but I order myself not to. I just saw him. I don’t need to come across as desperate or creepy.

I finally manage to get to sleep. When I wake in the morning, the sky is cloud-covered, and the room is darker than usual. I sleepily stretch and get ready. It’s Saturday, and I don’t have any responsibilities, so I slept in until nine.

I pad my way to the dining room table, where my dad is eating breakfast and sipping his coffee. Bettina smiles at me and tells me she’ll have my food plated in a moment. I tell her no rush, sipping on my orange juice.

“Sleep well?” my father asks me, folding the newspaper and placing it in front of his plate. He bestows a smile on me.

“I guess,” I say. Bettina slips the plate of food in front of me, and I thank her and dig in. God, I’m suddenly starving. The crispy bacon is cooked to perfection, and I want to eat it all.

“So. Axel.” He eyes me knowingly.

“Yes.” My face burns and I try to act casual. “He’s cool, right?”

“You were right.” He gives me a conceding nod. “I did like him. He’s an interesting man, and I enjoyed getting to know him last night.”

I flush from the praise, as if he’s talking about me. But I feel personally vested in how he feels about Axel. “Isn’t he?”

Daddy sighs and rests his hands in his lap, his eyes growing serious. My lightness starts to fade as I see how he’s looking at me. Like I’m about to get a lecture. “I like him, yes…but not as the man for you.”

My stomach flips, and I put my fork down. “What?”

“Look.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. “I could easily see myself being friends with Axel. But there’s a difference between a ‘buddy’ and the kind of man I want to see end up with my beautiful, special little girl.”

I can’t speak. My throat is clenched, and I feel stupid and frustrated at his words, despite how he’s trying to phrase things gently. Here I thought last night’s dinner made progress between all of us. But it didn’t. My daddy still sees a separation. He doesn’t see Axel as being worthy of me.

“Axel isn’t that guy for you,” he continues, “and he never will be. Sorry, sweetie.” He must see the confusion and hurt in my eyes, because he adds, “That said, I’m interested in helping him with his art. From the pictures you’ve shown me and seeing how he’s been successful in business already to a limited extent, I think he has real potential. I’m intrigued.”

It’s offered as an olive branch. But I still feel flat. Not quite comforted. I stare down at my plate, emotions roiling through me.

“Kendra.” His voice is sharp, pulling my attention back to him. “I know you’re disappointed. But I need to be honest about how I feel. You deserve that much respect. I don’t see him as a long-term kind of man for you.”

“I heard you the first time you said it, Daddy.” My words are lifeless. I pick at my eggs, which suddenly hold no appeal. I hate that I care so much about what my father thinks. It shouldn’t matter. I’m an adult. But I still want his approval, his support.

After my mother wrote me off when they divorced and I moved in with him, he’s been my rock, my sole support system. He navigated me through my rocky teen years, when I was anxious and too shy to make friends. He helped me apply to the best colleges and supported me when I wanted to live on campus to get the full experience.

And when I graduated, he hired me on to work at his company.

I owe my father a lot. But it still stings that the man I’m falling for will never quite live up to me in my dad’s eyes.

I sigh and get up from the table, carrying my plate with me. “I should go.”

“Kendra.” His voice is weary, as if we’ve had this discussion a million times. The sound sets my nerves on edge. “You needn’t be petulant.”

“I’m allowed to feel how I want,” I say quietly.

He sighs. “I am just telling you the truth. I’m trying to help you.”

“Yeah. I know. You always are, Daddy, no matter how your words might make someone feel.” I leave the dining room before he can reply, and I take my plate to the kitchen. Then I go to my room and text one of my old college friends, Michelle, whom I haven’t seen in a while. She’s been asking me to get together for a while, but I’ve been blowing her off because of hanging with Axel in my spare time.

Let’s have a cocktail tonight, I write to her. Are you free?

She replies with a row of smiley faces. It’s on. Foley’s? Seven?

Hell yes. See you there. I’ll even take an Uber so I can throw back some drinks guilt-free without worrying about driving.

I spend my day getting shit done—paying bills, buying a couple of new dress clothes that are desperately needed, dropping off dry cleaning. I swing by the office and work a couple of hours. Then I get ready and head to Foley’s Sports Bar.

Michelle is waiting for me in the lobby, and we hug. She’s just as I remember, her bold blond hair slicked smooth, dress slim-fit to her thin figure. “I need a cocktail right now,” she proclaims.

We take seats at the bar and order two margaritas, which are on special today. When they are delivered to us, we clink glasses. I take a long gulp of mine, hoping it can help me feel better. Because deep down, I’m still depressed about the conversation this morning with my father. I don’t want to be. I don’t want his feelings to have such a stranglehold on me. It shouldn’t matter.

“So tell me everything that’s happened since we graduated,” I order Michelle. “You seeing anyone?”

We spend a good twenty minutes laughing about the last date she went on, which was set up by a coworker. Apparently the guy was supposed to be decent, but from the moment she arrived at the soup place for their lunch date, he was pawing on her and trying to get in her pants. Not to mention he showed up drunk as hell for their date, smelling like alcohol. At one in the afternoon. Classy.

“What did you do?” I ask her, wheezing as I laugh from her description of how Mr. Octopus wouldn’t stop trying to fondle her.

“I finally just got up and went to the bathroom, then left out the back entrance. I didn’t say anything to him, just ran off to my car and drove away.”

I gasped. “You didn’t.”

“I did. He was heinous. Who shows up drunk for lunch? A douche, that’s who.” She laughs. “Twenty minutes later, he texted me to see where I was. Didn’t even bother to respond. I blocked his number so he couldn’t reach me anymore.”

“You have iron balls,” I tell her. “I would have stuck it out trying to make it work, even though I would have been miserable the whole time.”

She shrugs. “After a bunch of shitty dates, you stop caring and trying to make a good impression. It’s cold but true.” She looks at me. “So are you seeing anyone?”

Argh. I give a noncommittal shrug.

But she gives me a knowing eye. My casualness didn’t fool her. “Ooh, girl, this sounds like a story. Tell me.”

Before I know it, I find myself spilling the beans to Michelle about Axel, how we met, my undeniable attraction to him, both sexual and emotional…and how my father disapproves, despite liking him as a “buddy.”

Michelle stays quiet, sipping her drink as I talk and talk.

When I’m done, I exhale hard, then chug my margarita. The bite of tequila slides down my throat. This is what I needed. Yes.

“So. Are you seeking support,” she asks me, “or are you asking what I think?”

I eye her over my glass. “I already have a feeling I know what you think.”

“Honey.” She reaches over and touches my forearm, resting in my lap. “You know I love you. And I can hear how much you dig this guy. Fuck, I can see it in your eyes as you talk about him.” She pauses. “Sounds like he’s hot…but I’m guessing not a stick-to-it kind of man.”

“That’s not true,” I protest.

“How do you know?” The question is sharp, but sincere. “Has he said he wants to date you exclusively? That he wants to be your boyfriend?”

I shift in my seat and take a drag from my drink. “Well. No. Not exactly.”

“Kendra. You have a big heart, and you love people for who they are. You see everyone’s greatest potential. Which is an amazing quality and one of the many reasons I love you to death.” Michelle waves the bartender over, and he prepares fresh margaritas for us. “But that doesn’t mean everyone will actually reach their potential. Your dad is looking out for your best interests. This guy sounds fun. Enjoy your time with him, if that is what makes you happy. Just protect your heart, okay?”

I want to be mad at her for taking Daddy’s side. But I can see what she’s saying and why. She hasn’t met Axel before—she’s just going off my description. Maybe I didn’t explain things as good as I could have.

“I can read your face,” Michelle says with a laugh. “You wanna say that I don’t know him the way you do, right? That your father doesn’t either?”

I flush from the comment, frowning. Sip at my fresh margarita. “I’m not just some silly girl,” I finally say.

“Oh, sweetie. Of course not.” She leans over and hugs me. “I wasn’t implying that. Just that we all sometimes fall for the guy who’s wrong for us. It happens. Even if he isn’t the happily-ever-after type of man, it doesn’t mean he has no value for us. We just have to be aware of what that value is and not expect more.”

After a moment of silence, I change the topic to something more neutral, how people we graduated are doing so far post-grad. Michelle lets the subject of Axel go, and things get smoother.

I can’t help but be weighed down by what she said though. Am I just a cliché for having feelings for him? The guy who’s clearly not good for me, according to everyone around me?

I want to believe we’re more, we’re different. Even if my father or Michelle think it’s insane to believe so. I don’t care.

My heart is already involved. It can’t back out now, not when I could stand to lose so much. Despite my efforts, I have feelings for Axel. And now all I can do is hope he’s starting to feel the same for me too.

* * *

Sunday evening, I stretch out on the couch and change the channel to HBO, flipping through movies to see what I want to watch. Daddy went out to dinner to meet with some people who are interested in investing in the mall project.

My phone buzzes. I look down and can’t help the smile on my face when I see a new message from Axel.

Tell me something I don’t know about you.

That’s been our game for the last week or so—sharing things with each other that go beyond the surface. I’ve learned some interesting facts about him. Axel hates mayonnaise. He’s allergic to bees, and he has a scar on his knee from running into a tree as a kid.

I’ve also shared things about me that I haven’t thought about in years. How I used to make my own paper dolls. How I hate chardonnay, and when snooty company is over at our house, I only pretend to drink it, because it sucks.

That deep down, I resent my mom for leaving me behind after I decided to live with my dad, and I often feel lonely.

I stare at the screen and think about what to write. I don’t know if I want to work for my father forever, I finally type. I’m grateful that he offered me a job, but I also feel a sense of obligation because of it. And I never can quite forget that I only got the position because of being his daughter. I want to stand on my own two feet.

There’s a pause. Then Axel replies. I understand this. I quit working at the restaurant because I was tired of being a pawn for my brother. At Fugitives, I was never going to grow. I was always going to be just the help. But I have bigger aspirations.

Oh? I write. Like what?

Well, one goal would be to open my own tattoo parlor. A place that is just mine. I’ve been scouting possible locations, and there’s a place on the far side of town that could work. My place would have its own unique feel unlike any of the joints in town. And I could run it my way, with my vision.

I bite my lip. This is the stuff my daddy doesn’t see about him. Axel has drive and ambition, like I do. Like my father does. He wants to improve himself, and I love seeing that. I believe in you, I write. I hope you persist with that goal. You can do it.

And then he texts back: What are you doing right this second.

I snap a picture of me reclining on the couch and send it to him. I’m being super lazy and trying to convince myself that Monday won’t come.

You’re so fucking beautiful, he writes back. I can’t wait to see you again.

Me neither, I admit. This man has sunk under my skin in a way I never expected.

We spend a few more minutes chatting about random things—music we want to share with each other, funny things we’ve overheard, and so on. He tells me about what he wants to do with his business, and I encourage him, saying it sounds like an excellent idea and he should do it. It will be an interesting tattoo parlor, one that will draw business from all around the area.

I hear the front door open, and I call out, “Hi, Daddy.”

His footsteps come toward me, and then he enters the family room. “Hi, Kendra. How’s your evening?”

I nod at the show I selected. “Just working on my horror classics,” I say. “I think you recommended this one to me a month or two ago, and I’m finally getting around to watching it.” Not that I’ve been watching a lot of stuff lately, since I’ve been busy texting Axel.

He settles on the far end of the couch and kicks his legs on the coffee table. “Ah, The Twilight Zone. Good call. This episode is amazing.”

We watch for a few minutes without saying anything. My phone buzzes, but I don’t answer. I know it’s a text from Axel.

Apparently, my father does too. “So how is he?” He doesn’t bother to name him. We know who’s texting.

I sigh. I don’t even know what to say. It’s still a bone of contention between us. “Fine.”

“Kendra,” Dad says quietly. “Look at me.”

I bite my lip and glance over at him. There’s concern on his face.

“I don’t like that this is an issue,” he says, scrubbing his jaw. “I know you’re still talking to him.”

“So?” I can’t help the defensiveness in my tone. It doesn’t matter. I’m allowed to talk to whomever I want, with or without his approval. “We’re talking about his business plan.” I don’t know why I tell him that—maybe to prove to my father that he’s being judgmental about someone different than us.

Daddy has a flare of interest in his eyes. “Oh? What is that?”

With caution, I outline Axel’s plan to him, how he envisions making his parlor stand out from what’s around not just in Rock Bridge, but the cities around us. His background in art, and his past experience, and how he’s working at a tattoo shop now and learning from the owner how to run a successful business.

“That sounds intriguing,” my father says when I’m done talking.

I admit, I’m shocked. I wasn’t expecting him to say that. “Yes, it is,” I say cautiously. I’m still a little wary.

“I’d like to meet with him,” Daddy continues, toeing off his shoes and kicking them onto the ground. He groans and stretches his feet. “Discuss options for financing this business endeavor.”

I just stare at him for a moment. “Really?”

“Kendra, I may have conflicted feelings about his worthiness of you, but I’m a businessman at heart,” he says, looking at little wounded as he eyes me. “I like what I’m hearing so far, and I’d be interested in getting a pitch from him detailing his business plans in specific.”

My heart thuds against my ribcage. An opportunity to pitch his business to Daddy? This could get Axel up and going. “I’ll tell him,” I say evenly.

My father grins and stands, leaning down to kiss me on the cheek. “Why don’t you text him back? He’ll probably want to know.”

I can’t help but smile in response. Daddy and I don’t agree on everything, but he’s a fair man. I should be more patient when it comes to him. Of course he’s protective of me. I’m his little girl. Maybe he just doesn’t think anyone will ever be worthy of me.

But maybe…maybe he’ll eventually come around despite himself.

He leaves the room, heading to his bedroom, and I fire off a text to Axel, telling him that my father wants to meet him to discuss financing opportunities for his tattoo business. He doesn’t respond immediately, so I try to focus on the movie, despite the fact that my mind is flying a mile a minute.

When my phone buzzes, I grab it off the side table.

Really? That’s fucking incredible. I can’t thank you enough for this opp.

His excitement is tangible. You got this, I write. He’s really interested. I can’t wait to hear how it goes. I send a heart emoticon, then kind of wish I could take it back. Is that too intimate?

God, what am I, in third grade? I scoff at my own neuroses. It’s a fucking heart, Kendra, I tell myself. It’s not like I told him I wanted to have all his babies or something.

Even though the thought of being pregnant with a tiny Axel makes my real heart do some kind of funny skip in my chest.

My phone vibrates with his response. I can’t wait to see you again. I miss you. <3

And suddenly I don’t feel so silly for sending my heart. I’m smiling the rest of the evening.