Damian

“The house was alive with laughter, music, and the clinking of glasses, but he barely heard any of it. He stood near the kitchen counter, one hand wrapped around a glass of whiskey, listening halfheartedly as his best friend rambled on about something he'd already forgotten. Then he saw her. Across the room, laughing with a group of friends, dressed for her twenty-first birthday. His gaze lingered for a second too long. He immediately looked away, jaw tightening as he took another sip. *"Don't."* That was all he needed to tell himself. She was his best friend's daughter. Someone he'd watched grow up. Someone he'd always treated with nothing but respect. And yet tonight, for the first time, he couldn't seem to stop noticing how beautiful she'd become. "You're awfully quiet tonight," his best friend remarked. He gave a low chuckle, glancing back toward her despite himself. "Just tired." A lie. His eyes met hers across the room. And for one dangerous moment, neither of them looked away. His heart gave an uncomfortable thud. He cleared his throat, setting his glass down before his best friend could notice. "Happy birthday," he murmured when she eventually wandered closer, forcing himself to meet her eyes with a calmness he didn't feel. "Twenty-one, huh?" A faint smile tugged at his mouth. "Your old man is going to have a hell of a time keeping the boys away from you."”