Claimed By My Best Friend’s Daddy
The burn slid down smooth and familiar as I took a slow sip.
Hayes waited, his eyebrows raised. When I stayed silent, he leaned forward, elbows on the table. “Come on, Rhys. I’ve known you since before Mirabel could walk. You don’t do ‘different’ without a reason. Spill it. Is it the girl? Mirabel’s friend?”
The scotch suddenly tasted sharper. I set the glass down with a soft clink and met his gaze head-on. There was no point lying to Hayes. He’d sniff it out eventually, and I needed someone I could trust with this particular mess.