Tangled Desires

Chapter One

Elizabeth POV

It wasn't planned, well not at first and certainly not on his part, but I knew what I was doing. It started as a favor, just a small thing I thought I could ask of him without consequence. After all, he was Emily's dad. Mr. Brooks. Always kind, always patient. Always attentive and off-limits.

The thing is, I wasn't supposed to notice him the way I did. It's not like I planned it-falling for someone, so...unattainable. It was just little things at first. The way he smiled, his quiet confidence, how he always managed to make me feel seen even when I was just another teenager sitting at Anna's kitchen counter.

But this wasn't about that. At least, that's what I told myself when I knocked on his door one rainy evening, heart pounding so loudly I was sure he could hear it throught the closed door, I'm pretty sure the whole neighborhood can hear it.

"Beth?!" His voice was surprised yet warm and familiar, pulling me out of my spiral of nerves. He stood there in a plain gray T-shirt and jeans, hair a little messy, looking like he'd just come from working on something around the house. Casual. Effortless. Completely disarming and hot as fuck.

"Hi, Mr. Brooks," I said, trying to so rein in my wild thoughts of him. "Can I come in? I need to talk to you." Sounding more composed than I felt.

He stepped aside, a faint line of concern etching across his brow. "Of course. Is everything okay?"

I walked past him into the living room, clutching the strap of my bag like it was a lifeline. "It's nothing serious," I lied, though my pulse told a different story. I smoothed my skirt after sitting down. "I just... I need some advice. Or help. Maybe a little both." Or maybe I just want you to fuck me, I added in my thoughts

He nodded as he settled into the armchair across from me. His presence and scent filled the space, surronding me. A heavy, intoxicating mixture of musk and earth, grounding me in a way I couldn't explain and making me nervous and horny all at once.

"What's going on?" he asked, his voice low and calm. His eyes searched mine, as if trying to decipher the storm of thoughts swirling in my mind. The air seemed to hum with his question, pulling at the edges of my sanity. I could feel his presence pressing in, leaving no room for escape, and yet I was frozen, unable to find the words to explain the chaos inside partly because I could just come out and say please fuck me so I can see if I'm in love with you or I'm just obsessed with that big dick I saw the other day when you were musterbating.

I hesitated, the words catching in my throat. Why did I think this was a good idea? Why did it have to be him? But then I looked at him, and the honesty in his eyes made it impossible to hold back.

"It's... complicated," I began, my voice bearly a whisper. The word felt like a confetion, I realized just how much I'd been holding in. About school, about my parents, about the way I felt like I was spinning out of control and had no one to turn to. He listened without interrupting, his expression soft but focused, like what I was saying truly mattered to him.

When I finally stopped, I felt raw and exposed, but lighter somehow.

"You're stronger than you think, Lizzy Bear," he called me Lizzy Bear for as long as I could remember, a nickname that once made me giggle and now felt like a chain keeping me tetheredto the past. "But you don't have to go through this alone. Whatever you need, I'm here."

His words settled over me like a warm blanket, and for a moment, I let myself believe it was okay to lean on him. That maybe this wasn't such a terrible idea after all.

"I hate when you call me that," I snapped, folding my arms across my chest, though my cheeks betrayed me, flushing with heat.

He raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking in that infuriatingly knowing way of his. "You used to love it," he said, leaning back in his chair. His presence was overwhelming, as if he commanded the room without even trying.