CHAPTER SIX: The Ice Cream Date

The next day started with Skylar preparing breakfast for us.

One thing I had already realized about Skylar's meals was how delicious they were. Everything she prepared tasted so good that I always found myself looking forward to breakfast.

Damien and I sat opposite each other at the dining table.

The dining room was quiet except for the occasional sound of our cutlery against the plates.

I looked up once and caught Damien staring at me.

His eyes never seemed to leave me.

He watched as I took every bite, his gaze following my movements.

I lowered my eyes back to my food.

Why was he staring at me like that?

“Baby girl,” he finally said.

I looked up.

“Let's go out and get you some ice cream.”

My face immediately lit up.

Ice cream?

I hadn't expected that.

Jane's POV

The words baby girl had a way of making me feel good.

There was something about the way Damien said it that made my heart flutter every single time.

After punishing me a few days ago, he wanted to take me out for ice cream.

An ice cream date.

I couldn't help smiling.

“I'd really love one,” I said.

I went upstairs to get dressed.

I chose a short skirt that fell a little below my butt and a tank top that hugged my body.

As I looked at myself in the mirror, I wondered if I had chosen the outfit because I liked it or because I wanted Damien to notice me.

I turned sideways and looked at myself again.

Was I trying to seduce him?

I quickly pushed the thought away.

I grabbed my bag and headed downstairs.

Damien was waiting for me.

His eyes immediately went over my outfit.

I noticed.

He didn't say anything, though.

Neither did I.

We left the house shortly after.

The drive was quiet, but it wasn't uncomfortable.

I looked out the window as we drove through the streets, occasionally stealing glances at him.

There was something different about being alone with him outside the house.

When we finally arrived at the ice cream shop, I followed him inside.

I was surprised when he walked straight to the counter.

“Two cups of vanilla flavor,” he said.

I stared at him.

He still remembered.

My favorite flavor.

Even after all these years.

Damien glanced at me.

“Jane, I know you used to be allergic to strawberry.”

I smiled slightly.

“When you were little, you jumped all over the house screaming for vanilla-flavored ice cream.”

He chuckled.

“My little girl.”

My heart warmed at the words.

He remembered everything.

Even the things I had forgotten.

I took the cup from him and sat down.

For a moment, I simply stared at my ice cream.

It was strange how much a simple word could affect me.

Especially when it came from him.

But then, something changed.

“Jane.”

He called my name.

Just my name.

I looked at him.

Something inside me sank.

I couldn't explain it.

My name suddenly sounded different coming from his mouth.

Almost cold.

Almost like a poison.

I lowered my gaze and started eating my ice cream.

Maybe I was being dramatic.

But I couldn't help it.

I wanted to hear baby girl.

I wanted to hear my little girl.

Not Jane.

Not from him.

It shouldn't have mattered.

But it did.

I remembered the first time I discovered I was allergic to strawberries.

My dad had come home one night carrying a basket filled with strawberries.

It was my first time tasting them.

I remembered how excited I had been.

Then, not long after, my face suddenly became red.

My dad had panicked.

He didn't know what was happening.

He had even called Damien.

Damien had come over and helped calm everything down.

I remembered him holding my little hands while I cried.

Maybe that was why his words affected me so much.

He had always been there.

He had always been Damien.

My Daddy.

The person who had always called me his baby girl.

So why did he suddenly sound so distant?

The journey home was quiet.

I sat beside him, staring out the window.

I kept replaying the moment in my head.

Why did he call me Jane?

At least if I had done something wrong, he would have punished me.

Any punishment would have been better than hearing my name from him like that.

I wanted my baby girl back.

I wanted my Daddy back.

Damien's POV

The table had been quiet while we ate.

I had decided to take Jane out for ice cream because I could already tell she had been thinking about it.

The excitement on her face when I suggested it had made me smile.

I hadn't expected her to come downstairs wearing a short skirt and a tank top that hugged her body.

I looked at her.

Then I looked away.

What was she doing?

Was she trying to tempt me?

I clenched my jaw.

I had to remind myself who she was.

Jane.

My best friend's daughter.

My baby girl.

But she wasn't a little girl anymore.

That was the problem.

Every day, I found myself noticing things about her that I shouldn't.

I had promised myself I would keep my distance.

Yet every time she came near me, that promise became harder to keep.

At the ice cream shop, I watched her face light up when I remembered her favorite flavor.

Vanilla.

She had always loved it.

I also remembered her strawberry allergy.

I remembered her running around the house when she was little, screaming for vanilla ice cream.

My little girl.

The thought came naturally.

But when I called her by her name, I immediately noticed the change in her expression.

She looked hurt.

I hadn't meant to hurt her.

It had been unintentional.

But I saw how quiet she became afterward.

Even on the drive home, she barely spoke.

She loved it when I called her baby girl.

And I loved hearing her call me Daddy.

Maybe that was why the distance between those two words bothered me more than it should.

I watched her eat her ice cream earlier.

She had no idea what was going through my mind.

I’d imagined how her mouth would taste on my cock.

The thought alone made my jaw tighten.

It was as though I was jealous of the ice cream.

She had no idea how difficult it was becoming to keep my thoughts under control whenever she was around.

I shook my head.

Get yourself together, Damien.

She was still my best friend's daughter.

But there was something about her that was slowly driving me insane.

I glanced toward the passenger seat.

She was still staring through the window.

I sighed.

I'd find a way to make it up to her for calling her by her name.

After all, she was my baby girl.

And I didn't like seeing her unhappy.