As I sat in front of the large oak desk, I shifted nervously.
Mr. Prescott had intimidated me since I was a kid, and now that I was dating his little girl, I'm sure I'd never get rid of the 'nearly shitting myself' feeling I was currently experiencing.
I shifted in my chair as I watched him place a photo of Sunny back on the ledge of his fireplace.
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I glanced over his shoulder at the picture and smiled as childhood memories began flooding my brain.
I was so caught up in my thoughts, I didn't notice that Mr. Prescott had turned back around until he cleared his throat.
I shook my head a little, watching as he took his seat behind his desk, his eyes flickering as they stayed trained on me.
"Tristan, have you ever heard about the time Sunny left her stuffed animal in her mom's car and I had to track it down?"
I shook my head before my voice found its way out.
"Uh, no-- no, sir."
He sat back and looked at another picture, this one facing him on his desk, and smiled with pride.
"Well, you know she's always loved turtles."
I smiled and nodded, thinking about how many stuffed turtles I'd gotten for her over the years.
"She was almost three, and it was just me and her that day, her mom was at school. Everything was fine until she woke up from her nap and just wouldn't stop crying. No matter what I did, I couldn't figure out what was wrong... until I called Mrs. Prescott. Apparently, Sunny wanted the one turtle that we left in her mom's car. SO what did I do?"
I shrugged, motioning for him to continue.
"I loaded Sunny up, grabbed Dahlia's spare keys, and drove to the university to get the turtle. Forty-five minutes in the car with a screaming toddler? Yeah, not fun."
I chuckled a little, imagining how cute a cranky toddler-version of Sunny must've been.
"But once that turtle was in her arms, the smile on her face made it all worth it. I'd do anything for that smile."
Mr. Prescott's demeanor instantly shifted, the smile on his face falling as his jaw clenched.
"And, if for any reason, the smile on her face ever fell, I'd have to--"
"Mr. Prescott, I'd ever let that happen. All I want is for Bunn- Sunny to be happy."
I saw a flicker in her father's eyes as leaned forward, lacing his fingers together over his desk.
"She's fifteen; you're almost eighteen."
I hung my head and nodded knowingly.
"If you ever try--"
"Mr. Prescott, I'm never gonna do anything she's not ready for. I've always been conscious of how much younger than me she is, okay? Trust me. I don't-- I'd never take advantage of her."
The room was silent for a moment, and as he stood and rounded his desk, I saw a look on Mr. Prescott's face that told me these might be my last breathing moments.
I stood, nervously anticipating his judgement, jumping a little when his hand landed on my shoulder with a bit of force.
His eyes leered into me and it was another one of those 'shit myself' moments as his grip on my shoulder tightened a bit.
