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“Only what Wanda told me, though I suspect there’s a lot more to the story.” He lowers his voice. “Her parents put her up for adoption at five. Too many mouths to feed and she was the youngest. She was in foster care until she turned eighteen. Studied really hard, graduated as valedictorian of her high school class. Not sure how she ended up as my daughter’s best friend—they couldn’t be less alike—but I’m grateful for it. She pushes Wanda to try harder. I’m almost certain Coco is the reason she’s passing all of her classes. I owe her one.” He rakes a hand through his hair, laughing uncomfortably. “But sometimes, when she’s in a dress like that, I forget she’s just a kid.”
“Twenty-one isn’t a kid.”
Chris blows out a breath. “Close enough.”
Again, that guilt is smoking like a summer barbeque in my belly. “Yeah,” I say, voice gravelly. Not only because I’ve almost revealed my interest in the beautiful brunette, but my throat is closing up at the idea of her being given up at age five. That must have been incredibly difficult. And potentially damaging.
It might also explain her daddy issues.
Somehow, I’m still the furthest thing from turned off. As long as those urges of hers aren’t hurting her, as long as they don’t cause her emotional pain, she has the right to explore them. If I don’t help her solve those issues, or indulge them, will she find someone else who will?
My teeth clench so hard, I swear I can taste blood.
