“You seriously do not want the answer to that question.” She laughs, but I don’t. “Dad, I’m an adult.”
“You’re my daughter. My little girl,” I remind her.
“An adult.”
“Unless you’re scared, or whiny, or—”
“Whiny?”
“Or need your daddy.” I saiddaddylike she does. “Don’t ever stop that either. I need my little girl as much as my little girl sometimes needs her daddy.”
She smirks as I hold her hand. Nothing prepares you for when the little life you helped create comes into the world. The feelings are so intense that past hurts are just boo-boos. Or, when their boo-boos are enough to bring a grown man to their knees. And nothing prepares you to watch them grow and change before you. They don’t need you any less then, and you certainly don’t want to protect and love them any less.
“Dad, Logan’s had sex.”
And nothing prepares you for a kid like Ava, who thrives and takes pleasure in a shock and awe effect from a statement like that.
“Ava …”
“No, listen; he’s three years younger than I am. You offered to bring him condoms.”
“Who told you that?”
“He did. But with me—”
“You’re my little girl. I don’t want you to ever be hurt.”
“I’m a sexual being—”
I reach to turn up the radio. I don’t want to hear anymore. And yes, she’s right; I am pretty damn hypocritical when it comes to the difference in the way I treat them.
“I have a vagina!” she yells then laughs. “And boobs!”
“Ava!” I reach up and turn down the radio.
“Daddy!” She laughs her little belly laugh. “You never offered me condoms.”
Feeding into her is not a good idea, so I shrug. “I want you to know what I expect from you. What I want you to except from a man. Ava, you need a man to treat you like I do.”
“Like a baby?”
“Keep quiet and listen. They have to be intelligent. Someone who is funny and understands your quirky sense of humor. Someone who shares your values and loves family. They have to love to talk, or at least love you enough to listen to you talk. They need to think your little tantrums are adorable. They need to give you attention, a lot of it. You should not be their second thought—always their first. They need to cherish every moment they spend with you. When they succeed, and if they don’t search for you to share that with them, they don’t deserve you. If they don’t need you by their side during every part of life, they don’t deserve you. If they hurt your perfect and beautiful heart, they don’t deserve you. If they fuck up, even if you are head-up-your-ass in love with them, you need to walk away so you can continue to love yourself. If they come back, you make damn sure they’ve felt the impact of losing you before you tell them they need to speak to me before you even consider it.”
“Talk to you first?”
“If you’re considering forgiving them, they better not just come to me; they better fucking crawl.”
“I love you, Daddy.”
“I love you, little girl.”
?
Ava and I are in the VIP section when the opening band ends, and still no Tessa. I don’t care. I really hope she’s staying backstage with Harper, because I am going to kill the fuckers checking out my little girl. I can’t imagine having two of them to look out for.
“Jade!” Ava yells and waves.
Jade is being escorted into the VIP section, and behind her are Phoebe and Tessa.