Forbidden desire- In Love With My Father's Best Friend

"You bitch! Come here!" Stella screamed at Amelia who ran away as fast as her short legs could carry her.

She knew she would be in trouble if she stayed back after class. Stella had invited her to a party the previous night. She had threatened to kill Amelia if the latter didn't show up and Amelia had refused to attend because going to parties wasn't her thing.

Now, Stella was there to carry out her threat. Earlier in class, Amelia didn't miss the glares Stella kept sending her way and she had shivered in pretense fear. Her best friend could be scary at times, Amelia thought, looking back. Sure enough, Stella was glaring at her.

"I'll see you tomorrow! I love you!" Amelia screamed, drawing the attention of some students nearby.

The guys gawked at her. She was a short beauty- if there was any word like that. With long blonde hair that cascaded down her back, ocean blue eyes, white skin and curves in the right places, she drew the attention of both genders. She was a sight to behold.

"You need a boyfriend, sweetheart. Those boobs of yours are helplessly crying for a guy's touch," Stella would always say shamelessly. While Amelia was an introvert and the shy type, Stella was an extrovert who would never hesitate to put someone in their place.

Stella hissed, "I hate you!" She screamed back and marched away.

Amelia laughed and slowed down her pace. She had successfully escaped Stella's wrath, for now at least.

****************

On getting home, she met her father which was very unusual. He was never home at this time of the day, she thought. Slowly, she approached him.

"Hi Dad, you're home early. Did something happen at the hospital?" She asked curiously. Bryan looked up and gave her a tired smile.

"Hey honey, how was class today?" He asked, ignoring her question.

Amelia's eyes bored into her father's, searching his face for some clue.

"At this rate, I'm afraid you'll drill a hole in me. Quit staring at me suspiciously," Bryan laughed and Amelia visibly relaxed, now convinced that her father was fine. She dropped her bag and slumped on the sofa tiredly.

Bryan stared at the bag for a while as though it bothered him, "You should go drop your bag in your room, then we'll talk."

Even though her father spoke softly, Amelia knew better than to argue with him. She could use the shower too, she told herself. She got up obediently and proceeded to her room. An hour later, looking fresh and all, she was about to tell her father how her day went when he informed her about his transfer at work.

Amelia's blood ran cold in fear and shock. Many thoughts ran through her mind as she processed the information.

"Sweetheart?" Bryan called when he received no response. Amelia jolted back into present.

"Uh?" She asked, staring at him blankly.

Bryan sighed, "I was waiting for your response but I noticed that you were lost in thought."

Amelia laughed harshly, "waiting for my response? Would stay if I ask you to?" She asked with a glare and added, "Don't ask for my opinion when you've made a decision."

She continued, "So am I gonna stay here alone? Or do you want me to stay in the girls' dorm?" She asked bluntly, masking her fear of being left alone.

Bryan shook his head, "No honey, I've made preparations for you to stay with my friend."

Amelia frowned her pretty eyebrows, wondering who that friend was. She was about to ask him who the friend was when another important question popped up in her mind and she asked, "How long will you be away for?"

He smiled bitterly, "A year at most."

Amelia's eyes widened, "A year?!"

"At most," he correctly and added, "It could be less."

"Who's this friend anyway?" She asked, crossing her hands around her breasts.

"Ryan," Bryan simply said.

Amelia racked her head for a minute until she remembered who he was, "Mr Woods??!" She shrieked.

Bryan raised an eyebrow in question, "Yeah, is there something wrong? "

Amelia thought about the handsome billionaire who had been friends with her father for as long as she could remember but she hadn't had much encounter with him because he was a man of little words who always wore an unapproachable expression. It made her wonder how they were able to maintain their friendship over the years.

She shook her head, "Oh! Nothing."

Bryan sighed, "I guess you know the kind of guy Ryan is, right?"

Amelia nodded and he continued, "Good. I want you to be a good girl. He's a very private person so do not poke your nose in his business, okay?"

Amelia pouted, "Dad!"

Bryan laughed, "I'm sorry, sweetheart. But you know how curious you can get at times."

"Just be good to him, huh?" He added.

Amelia smiled, and her dimples showed. "Sure, Dad. "

Bryan got up, "Go pack your bags while I take a shower. Then we'll head over to Ryan's place."

Amelia's smile dropped and her eyes widened in horror, "Why are we going to his place now? When are you traveling?"

Bryan sighed, "Tomorrow morning."

"Tomorrow morning?!" Amelia shrieked.

Bryan nodded sadly and Amelia started to pity him, thinking to herself that the situation must be hard on him too, until she saw the corners of his mouth lift in... a smile?!

She placed her hands on her hips and glared at him, "Uh-huh, Looks like someone is happy to leave his daughter behind."

Bryan's head shot up and traces of the smile were gone too, "No darling, you can't possibly understand how bad I feel about leaving you behind."

Amelia rolled her eyes, "Whatever." She started walking to her room.

********************

The engine of the car hummed steadily as Bryan gripped the wheel, his knuckles tight and his jaw set. Amelia sat in the passenger seat, her arms crossed and her expression one of silent rebellion. She couldn't believe this was happening. Out of all places, why did her father think this was the best solution?

"I know you're not happy about this," Bryan said without taking his eyes off the road.

"That's an understatement," Amelia muttered, staring out the window. The cityscape began to give way to sprawling estates, their gated entrances a testament to wealth and exclusivity.

"It's just for a while," Bryan continued, his tone firm. "Ryan's a good man. He'll look out for you while I'm gone."

Ryan. Her father's best friend. The one man she had always tried to avoid whenever possible. He was intense, magnetic, and exuded a kind of confidence that made her nervous. Staying in his house was the last thing she wanted.

As they turned onto a private drive lined with towering trees, Amelia caught her first glimpse of Ryan's mansion. It was a sprawling modern masterpiece, all glass and sharp edges, standing proud against the lush greenery.

Bryan pulled to a stop in front of the house. "Here we are," he said, turning to her. "Come on, Amelia. Don't make this harder than it needs to be."

Amelia sighed heavily, unbuckling her seatbelt and stepping out of the car reluctantly.

The front door of the mansion opened, and Ryan emerged, his figure tall and commanding. He was dressed casually, but somehow even in jeans and a simple shirt, he managed to look like he owned the world. His sharp features were framed by dark hair that looked almost too perfect, as if he'd just stepped out of a magazine.

"Bryan," Ryan greeted with a broad smile as he walked down the steps. The two men embraced briefly, their camaraderie evident. Then Ryan's gaze shifted to Amelia, and she froze.

His eyes, a piercing shade of blue, locked onto hers, and for a moment, she couldn't breathe. There was something about the way he looked at her-intense, curious, almost... heated. She felt her cheeks flush as she quickly looked away, her heart pounding.

"Amelia," Ryan said, his voice deep and smooth. "It's been a while."

She nodded, unable to form a coherent sentence. The way he said her name sent a shiver down her spine.

"Thanks for doing this," Bryan said, breaking the moment.

"Of course," Ryan replied, his gaze lingering on Amelia a second longer before he turned back to Bryan. "You know I've got your back."

The three of them moved inside, the cool air of the mansion a welcome relief from the heat outside. Amelia glanced around, trying not to look too impressed. The interior was just as extravagant as she'd imagined-high ceilings, sleek furniture, and art pieces that probably cost more than her entire college tuition.

"You've got a beautiful place, I must say again," Bryan commented awkwardly as they entered the living room.

"Thanks. Make yourself at home while I get Amelia settled," Ryan said.

Before she could protest, Ryan had turned to her, his expression softening. "Here, let me help you with that," he offered, reaching for the bag slung over her shoulder.

"I can manage," Amelia replied quickly, but as their hands brushed, she felt a jolt, as if an electric current had surged through her. She gasped softly, her grip on the bag faltering, and he caught it effortlessly.

For a brief moment, their eyes met again, and this time, neither of them looked away. Amelia's breath hitched as she felt herself drowning in the intensity of his gaze. Her heart hammered in her chest, and her mind screamed at her to look anywhere else, but she couldn't move.

"Amelia?" Ryan's voice was soft, but it broke through the haze.

She blinked, quickly stepping back. "I... I'm fine," she stammered, feeling her face burn with embarrassment.

Ryan smirked, a knowing glint in his eyes, as he slung the bag over his shoulder effortlessly. "This way," he said, motioning for her to follow.

Amelia hesitated, her feet rooted to the ground. She didn't trust herself to be alone with him, not after the way her body had reacted to his touch. But before she could say anything, Ryan was already walking away, leaving her no choice but to follow.

She swallowed hard and took a shaky step forward, her pulse racing as she realized she was stepping into a world she might not be ready for.

What have I gotten myself into? she thought, the question lingering as she trailed behind him. Bryan spoke that moment, saving Amelia temporarily.

Behind them, Bryan stretched his arms, letting out a satisfied sigh. "Well, that's everything," he said, glancing between Amelia and Ryan. "I trust you'll take good care of her, Ryan."

Ryan, who had placed Amelia's bag near the base of the grand staircase, nodded curtly. "You know you don't even have to ask. She's in good hands." His tone was polite, almost formal, and Amelia couldn't help but notice the slight tension in his jaw as he spoke.

Bryan, oblivious to the subtle undercurrents, clapped Ryan on the shoulder. "I knew I could count on you. Amelia's a good kid. She just needs a place to stay while I'm gone."

Kid? Amelia bristled inwardly. She might be 20, but she didn't need to be talked about as though she weren't standing right there.

"I'm standing right here, Dad," she muttered under her breath.

Bryan chuckled, leaning in to kiss her forehead. "I know, sweetheart."

Amelia swallowed hard, feeling the lump in her throat grow. She'd been determined not to cry, but now, with her father about to leave, the reality of her situation hit her like a ton of bricks.

"I'll call you as soon as my flight lands," Bryan said softly, looking into her eyes. " Promise me you'll be good and listen to Ryan."

"I will," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Bryan pulled her into a warm embrace, and for a moment, she clung to him, inhaling the familiar scent of his cologne. She felt safe in his arms, but the safety was fleeting.

"Come on, you're twenty," she muttered under her breath, scolding herself as she blinked back the tears threatening to spill. She wouldn't cry-not in front of Ryan.

Pulling back, she forced a smile. "Take care of yourself, Dad."

Bryan smiled back, his eyes shining with a mix of pride and reluctance. "You too, kiddo." He turned to Ryan. "Thanks again, man."

Ryan gave him a tight nod. "Safe travels."

As Bryan walked to his car, Amelia thought she noticed a brief exchange of glances between her father and Ryan. It was fleeting, almost imperceptible, but something about it made her pause. She shook the thought away, convincing herself it was nothing.

When the car's engine roared to life, Amelia stood on the front steps, waving as her father pulled away. The sight of his car disappearing down the driveway left her feeling hollow, as though a piece of her had been taken along for the ride.

The silence that followed was thick and suffocating. Amelia turned toward Ryan, who stood a few feet away, his expression unreadable.

"Well," he said, his voice cool and detached. "Welcome to my home."

His tone sent a chill down her spine, and Amelia felt her stomach knot. He looked at her as though she were a burden he had no choice but to tolerate.

"Thank you," she said quietly, her earlier bravery shrinking under the weight of his intense gaze.

Ryan's eyes flicked over her briefly, assessing, before he turned and started up the staircase. "Come on," he said over his shoulder. "I'll show you to your room."

Amelia hesitated for a moment before following, her footsteps echoing softly against the polished marble floor.

As they ascended the stairs, she couldn't help but study him from behind. He moved with an effortless grace, his broad shoulders and strong frame a testament to the kind of confidence money and power could buy. But there was something else-something darker. It was as if he'd built an invisible wall around himself, keeping the world at bay.

When they reached the top of the staircase, Ryan led her down a long hallway lined with artwork. He stopped in front of a door and pushed it open.

"This will be your room," he said, stepping aside to let her enter.

Amelia walked in and looked around. The room was spacious and elegantly decorated, with a king-sized bed, a writing desk, and a large window that offered a stunning view of the estate. It was more luxurious than anything she'd ever imagined, but it felt cold and impersonal, much like the man who owned it.

"Thank you," she said again, her voice barely above a whisper.

Ryan didn't respond immediately. Instead, he leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed as he watched her. "We'll set some ground rules tomorrow," he said finally, his tone sharp." For now, get some rest."

Amelia nodded, avoiding his gaze. She heard the door click softly as he left, and she let out a shaky breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

She sank onto the edge of the bed, her mind racing. Being in Ryan's house was going to be harder than she'd thought. There was an undeniable pull between them, a tension that crackled in the air whenever they were near each other. But he clearly wanted nothing to do with her.

She lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

Why does he look at me like I'm a problem he didn't ask for? she wondered, her thoughts swirling as exhaustion finally pulled her under.

*****************

Amelia woke with a start, the soft light of dawn streaming through her window. She glanced at the clock on the nightstand-it was barely 6 a.m., but she was too restless to go back to sleep. Stretching lazily, she sat up and pushed her hair out of her face.

This is my chance, she thought. If she was going to be stuck here, she might as well try to make a good impression.

Slipping out of bed, she pulled on a sweater and padded quietly down the hallway. The house was eerily silent, the kind of silence that made every sound echo a little louder. When she reached the kitchen, she paused for a moment, taking in the sleek, modern design. It was enormous, the kind of kitchen you'd expect in a mansion like this, with gleaming countertops and high-end appliances she didn't even know how to use.

Rolling up her sleeves, Amelia decided to stick to something simple. Scrambled eggs, toast, and coffee. She moved quickly, trying not to make too much noise as she worked. The scent of coffee soon filled the air, mingling with the buttery aroma of the eggs.

Once everything was ready, she plated two servings and carefully arranged them on a tray. One for herself and one for Ryan. She hesitated for a moment, wondering if taking food to his room was overstepping.

It's just breakfast, she told herself. No big deal.

Balancing the tray, she made her way through the winding hallways until she reached Ryan's door. She knocked softly and waited, but there was no answer. Frowning, she knocked again, a little louder this time.

Still nothing.

She pushed the door open cautiously, peeking inside. The room was massive, with a king-sized bed neatly made and a wall of windows letting in the soft morning light. But it was empty.

Where could he be this early? she wondered, placing the tray on a nearby table.

As she turned to leave, something caught her eye at the end of the hallway-a door slightly ajar, revealing a sliver of another room. Curiosity got the better of her, and she walked toward it, her steps tentative.