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Didn’t I know first-hand how aggravating Clare could be about names - or familial titles. “This is all just about me and her, and you shouldn’t have to worry about that. So let’s start fresh. Hi, I’m Miranda.” I held out my hand to her, and her smile lit up the room. “Hi, I’m Becky. Thank you so much for letting me crash with you. I really had no idea where to spend the week until your stepmom invited me. You’re a lifesaver!” Before I could say something, she had plopped over and caught me in a bone-crushing hug, lying halfway on top of me. “Really, thank you!” At first, I felt startled and a little uncomfortable, but when she didn’t let go, I put my own arms around her and squeezed back. “You’re welcome, Becky!” The next thing that happened took me completely by surprise. Suddenly, her lips pressed onto mine, just for a second, mind you, and then she jumped up, exclaiming, “I’ll go and carry up my things. Thank you, Miranda!” While her feet pattered down the stairs, I lay there. Looking up at his house, I sighed. It was a nice house - two stories and a good amount of distance from each neighbor on the sides. I figured it was a party type town and they built their houses to make it easy to have loud crazy parties without bothering the neighbors.My eyes fell upon the front door as I saw a man walk out. For a moment I had to look hard. The man that walked out could not be my father. My father was 6’0, about 300lbs and pale white. The man that walked out that door was 6’0, around 200 lbs, covered in muscle and tan. He was this beautiful human that made my knees weak. I figured he must work for my father.“Moira,” the man said with a slight smile on his face as he walked over to me. It was in that minute I knew it was my father. I had never forgot that voice. I had pictured it in my head for years when I dreamed of him coming home.I shook at the thought that for a moment my father had turned me on but I could not help it. He looked amazing and a part of me wanted.
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