Best Friends Father Romance Books Novels & Stories

I admit with a flush to my cheeks, “He has been, in truth a blessing now. I have grown to appreciate his company.” “Do you like him?” “What?” I stop at the odd question.“Do you mean as a friend? Then yes. I do.” “Too soon then.” Father sighs but chuckles and strokes his beard. “But Friendship is a start to it, anyway.” “Sorry?” I grow only more confused. What start? But Father only turns me to another aisle of blooming roses. “Things are calmer now,” Father starts again. “Yes,” I agree.“They are better.”

I fell in love with my father's best friend. My father is two years older than my mother. According to my grandparents, they met and fell for each other when they were children, so they married quite young. On the day I let out my first cry into the world, my mother was only eighteen. My father has a close friend who, while not a blood relative, is a brother who has gone through life and death with him. He is already over thirty but has yet to marry. He frequently visits our house. I have liked him since I was a little girl. I liked him so much that no matter how many boys pursued me at school, I rejected them all because my tiny heart was reserved only for him.

“I'd like to start by saying that I loved my father very much. We had a good bond as Father and son. He confided in me about many things, including Tristan. My father told me that he thought Tristan was his fated mate. At first, he stayed away from him because he was a guy, and the Morris family is very much straight. My father told me that over time, he couldn't deny the bond and felt awful for ignoring it. He said he would go to Tristan at night when they knew Walker was asleep. They shared many romantic evenings in Tristan's little apartment over the garage. He told me Tristan felt it too, and wanted to be with him, but he was afraid of angering Walker—” “BULLSHIT!” I roar. I slam my fist

I shot back. His gaze sharpened slightly over the rim of the bottle. “You think this is the same?” “No,” I admitted quietly. “I think you know exactly what you’re doing.” Silence stretched between us. His eyes dropped briefly to my mouth again and my pulse stumbled hard enough it actually hurt. Wrong. This was so unbelievably wrong. My best friend’s father. But I couldn’t stop noticing him. The rough scrape of his voice. The veins in thehand wrapped around the beer bottle. The dangerous calm in his eyes.

She was done with her date, she held a flower bouquet, and she was still all smiles. Realization dawned onto me instantly. I just fucked my best friend dad. “Hey sis!” She hit my arm. I forced a tight smile. “How was it?” I asked. “It was so good!” She was elated. “I think I like him. We kissed.” She whispered the last part in my ears. They kissed. But I fucked her father while she was away. I was such a bad friend. “Hmmn… Tell me more about it while we head home,” I replied casually.

Paulyn exclaimed. "Even if you are of legal age, other people can and will say something about us, Paulyn, and that is not even the main issue here. You are my best friend's daughter! You are Roberto's daughter—" "Oh, for goodness’ sake, Alfredo! Is that it again? Is that what you're going to use as an excuse? Why do you always have to bring up my father whenever we're having this kind of conversation? He's already dead!" "And that's all the more reason we can't be together!" Alfredo couldn't help but raise his voice, which surprised Paulyn. "I promised at your father's grave that I would take care of you and protect you, that I would treat you like my own daughter—"

Bryan replied. “So what happened?” she asked and Bryan sighed. “Damien’s father and my father were best friends. They have been friends since childhood so they did everything together but my father was a little bit richer than theirs but all these didn't matter. We were all friends.” Bryan explained and Alessa nodded.

I started, but it was weak, breathless. He stepped closer. Not much, just enough that I caught that clean, intoxicating scent of him again. My back nearly hit the counter. “Yes, you do,” he murmured. “You think I don’t notice, but I do. Every time your eyes linger. Every time you flush when I speak to you.” My breath tangled in my chest. “That’s… that’s not—” “Wrong?” His gaze burned into mine. “It is. It’s the most wrong thing in the world.” His jaw tightened. “Your father is my closest friend. I promised him I’d protect you.”

I look to my left and see Gia standing and hitting her champagne glass with her fork. “Since you guys are all full, I think it’s time for my maid-of-honor/best-daughter’s speech.” I glance at Fenice and see her smiling as she turns her full attention to Gia. “As you all know, B is my best friend, and Papi is my father. My best friend fell in love and married my father. Isn’t that something?” She chuckles before continuing. “I know what many of you are thinking—that it’s weird. Trust me, I get that. It was weird for me, too. But then I realized how much they love each other and how happy they are together. Their love is special, and nothing should ever keep them apart,” she says as she wipes

And I would keep hoping … against all odds … that the friendship we once had could somehow survive the mess I had made. EMILY'S POV I broke down the moment she left the office. The door clicked softly behind, and my hands swept over the files she dropped angrily. I couldn’t help but remember the look on my dad’s face when I asked him the same question. He told me he loved her, unfazed. He was so certain, so ready to fight for her. But she? Had she been playing him all along? I had always been protective of my father because I hated how he crumbled when my mum died. I hated how love made him weak. I ensured no one got close enough to break his heart — until my best friend.