Page 113 of Mark & Don't Tell

“Hey,” Daria says softly, sitting on the couch and tucking her legs beneath her.

Holding the closed book in my lap, I study her, imagining introducing her to my dad. He’d probably love Daria.

“Am I interrupting?” she asks after a few moments of me watching her. “I totally understand not wanting to be bothered when you’re reading.” Daria starts to stand, but I reach out and grab her wrist, holding her in place.

“Stay.”

A warm grin tugs at the edges of her lips. “Okay.”

My phone buzzes and her gaze slides to it. “My sisters,” I tell her with a shake of my head. “They’re arguing in a group chat.”

“How many siblings do you have?”

“Three. They’re a handful.” I smooth my hand over the back of my neck as I explain the situation. “My dad passed away a long time ago, and I’ve sort of been their father figure. They were making plans for Christmas.” Pausing, I consider her. “Would you be comfortable going to meet my family for the holiday?”

“Of course, I would. I mean, as long as you don’t think the age difference would make things weird?”

“Nah. They’ll all be happy for me. They might be annoying sometimes, but they love me.”

She smiles. “I get it. I love my brother Marco the same way.”

“What are the guys doing?”

She shrugs. “Playing some video game.”

“Ah, yeah. They do that.”

“What are you reading?”

I glance at the book in my lap. The cover is worn, and the spine of the paperback has seen better days. “The Epic Adventures of Rafa.”

“Sci-fi?”

“It was my dad’s favorite.” I run my finger down the spine. “He used to read it to me, and after he passed, I read it to my sisters. I’ve read it so many times, and even though I know exactly what happens, it’s still my favorite.”

“I understand. I have comfort reads, though they’re usually romance.”

“I like romance too,” I admit. “Romantasy is my favorite because there’s usually an epic storyline.”

“I prefer contemporary,” she says. “Fantasy is nice, but sometimes I only want to read about how the relationship comes together.”

“Fair enough.”

She chews on her cheek, her gaze straying to the book in my hands. “Will you read to me?”

“Can you handle sci-fi?”

“It’s your favorite.” She grabs a blanket from the arm of the couch and places it over her lap. “I’m ready.”

I wonder if I should grab one of my romantasy books, but there’s a determined glint in her gaze. Who am I to deny my omega? “All right.” I open the book and clear my throat. “Chapter one.”

Daria listens intently as I read my dad’s favorite story to her, and inch by inch, she scoots toward me until her head rests on my shoulder. I wrap my arm around her and share this piece of my history, oddly comforted by the fact that she doesn’t fall asleep.

She hangs on every word, and that simple attention warms my heart. Yeah. I think my dad would’ve loved this omega.

Thirty-Nine

DARIA

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