The doorbell pulled me from that rabbit hole, and I jumped up from the couch, jerking my head side to side to make sure nothing was out of place. I didn’t know what I was looking for, but I rarely had company, and for the first time, I looked at my house from the perspective of an almost twenty-year-old.
 
 Not finding anything too damning, I went to open the door.
 
 On the other side, I found the same girl who entranced me with each photo, her eyes—and half her face—covered by a pair of aviator glasses. The reddish tint in her hair caught in the sunlight, making her almost look like a true redhead instead of the lighter brunette I remembered.
 
 Her eyebrows peeked up above the rim of her glasses, and she looked me up and down. I stood taller as if under inspection and, with a lot more subtlety than her, did the same.
 
 Her high-top chucks were only laced up halfway, leaving the top to flare out over her thin ankles. All her hiking pictures weren’t just for show. I could see her defined legs encased in tight black leggings, and it made me wonder how her thighs would flex around a man’s waist. As if that wasn’t bad enough, the top of her leggings stopped just below her belly button, leaving a slim line of her stomach exposed under a plain, white, crop top T-shirt. It was like she found a baggy, little boy’s undershirt. However, it wasn’t baggy enough to hide the fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra, her pert nipples poking against the fabric.
 
 I almost got caught up on the sight, but quickly jerked my gaze away with a sharp reprimand.
 
 Niece. Niece. Niece.
 
 Not really your niece.
 
 Fine. Harry’s daughter.
 
 A man you respect. His daughter.
 
 Thankfully, she was still taking her time looking me over, completely unrepentant.
 
 I almost laughed.
 
 “You look different.”
 
 My head tipped, thrown by those being the first words she said. “Umm…hi. And thank you. I think?” I stepped aside and grabbed one of the bags sitting next to her on the pavement.
 
 That smirk I saw in so many pics made an appearance as she rolled her suitcase through the door.
 
 “Wait. What does that mean?” I asked, closing the door.
 
 She turned and shoved her glasses to the top of her head, exposing light brown eyes, thankfully not like Harry’s, and shrugged. “Last time I saw you, you were all buttoned up and clean-shaven.”
 
 Rubbing my hand across the thick scruff covering my jaw, I couldn’t help but still wonder if she was insulting me. I grew my beard out over the summer and kept going back and forth over shaving before school. I opened my mouth to ask her opinion but quickly shoved the question down. “I always try to look my best when I see your dad.”
 
 I wasn’t very close with Harry, but he was the closest I had to family—the only family I had left. We were very different, but it hadn’t stopped us from getting along when our parents were married. He’d been the normal and relaxed in a chaotic time and had been nice enough to include an eleven-year-old boy while he was a senior in high school.
 
 I respected him and the life he created. He had a good wife and a good job. When he’d called letting me know Arabella was coming here for school, I offered up whatever he’d needed. He’d done the same for me once, and it felt good to finally repay him.
 
 “Cool,” she answered simply.
 
 Rather than push the subject, I nodded with a tight smile. “I’ll show you your room.”
 
 I grabbed her rolling suitcase and led her up the flight of stairs, each one creaking under my weight while barely making a noise for her.
 
 “The dresser and closet are empty. The bathroom is the next door over and yours to use however you like. I have one in my bedroom, and the guest one is downstairs.”
 
 “Entertain a lot?” she muttered, looking out the floor to ceiling windows.
 
 “No. I don’t have many guests. I just wanted to let you know you could leave your stuff out on the counter.”
 
 She turned, her lips in a tight smile. “Cool.”
 
 I fought to keep from reprimanding her. I remembered being an arrogant shit too. Hell, some still thought I was—specifically, Tessa.
 
 “There’s also a pool out back. It rarely gets used, but someone comes to take care of it. Feel free to use it as you want.”
 
 Another tight smile accompanied by a nod.
 
 “So, yeah. Go ahead and get settled, and then we can grab dinner in a couple hours. There’s a bar down the street.”
 
 “Uhhh, I’m only nineteen,” she informed like she thought I was dumb.
 
 I was aware.
 
 “It’s more like a pub. Doesn’t become a bar until later. You’ll be fine.”
 
 “Cool.”
 
 My irritation at the word bled through, and I stood in the doorway, my brow slowly rising as a reprimand as if waiting for more. She plopped on the bed, almost dragging my attention back to her shirt and the way her small tits bounced from the motion, but I held strong.