Page 44 of Role Play (Off the Books #1)
Forrest
“Daddy, are we there yet?”
Dakota’s voice pipes up from the back seat for the fourth time in fifteen minutes. I glance at her in the rearview mirror, her tiny legs swinging impatiently, barely reaching the edge of the car seat. Her favorite stuffed bunny, Mr. Flops, is clutched tightly in her arms.
“Almost, Koda. Just a few more blocks.”
I check the time on the dashboard. We’re running about twenty minutes behind schedule, but that’s to be expected when you’re moving with a four-year-old.
The morning had been chaos—Dakota insisting on packing her toys herself, which meant unpacking and repacking her princess suitcase three times; the unexpected phone call from Rina about a client cancelation; Taio making a last-ditch effort to convince me that moving is a mistake.
“You’re blurring lines, man,” he warned as he helped load the last of our boxes into the rental SUV. “Playing house with a client won’t end well.”
I reminded him that Sora wasn’t technically a client, which earned me an eye roll and a muttered, “Whatever helps you sleep at night, my guy.”
But now, with Dakota fidgeting excitedly in the back seat and the brownstone just minutes away, I’m not second-guessing my decision.
This arrangement with Sora is the best solution for everyone involved—Dakota gets to stay in her school, I get more time with my daughter, and Sora gets… well, whatever it is I’m giving her.
Three days have passed since our night on the yacht, and my thoughts keep drifting back to the weight of her in my arms as we swayed beneath the stars, the whispered “what-if” that hung between us like a fragile promise.
I’m still not sure what to make of that moment.
Because when I saw the ring on her finger, it messed me up a little.
Knowing I’d never, ever be able to afford something like that for her. Unless maybe I worked triple-time as an escort, but therein lies the problem. What woman would want to marry an escort? Even when I leave this all behind, I can’t lie to my future wife. Who would accept my messy past?
“Daddy, is Sora nice?” Dakota’s question pulls me from my thoughts.
“Very nice,” I assure her, turning onto Sora’s tree-lined street. “You met her before, remember? At the coffee shop?”
“The lady who gave me the cookie?” Her face lights up with recognition.
“That’s right.”
“I like her,” Dakota declares with the absolute certainty only a child can muster. “Does she have toys?”
I chuckle. “You brought your own toys, Koda. But she painted your room purple, just like you like.”
Dakota gasps, her eyes widening. “My very own purple room?”
“Yep. With space for all your stuffed animals and your books.”
She hugs Mr. Flops tighter, whispering something in his floppy ear that I can’t quite catch. Probably updating him on their new living arrangements.
As we pull up to the brownstone, I spot Sora waiting on the steps, wearing jeans and a soft-looking sweater, her dark hair falling loose around her shoulders. My heart does a stupid little skip at the sight of her.
For a moment, I feel an almost overwhelming urge to kiss her hello—to feel her lips against mine, to pull her close and breathe in the scent of her hair.
I have to physically restrain myself, gripping the steering wheel a bit tighter.
What am I thinking? Dakota’s right here, and besides, Sora and I aren’t…
whatever my traitorous heart seems to think we are.
Our situation is complicated enough without adding more confusion.
God, what is wrong with me? I’m acting like a teenager with his first crush, not a grown man with a complicated life.
“Is that her?” Dakota asks, pressing her face against the window.
“Yes, that’s Sora.” I park the SUV and turn to look at my daughter. “Remember what we talked about? We’re going to be staying with Sora for a while because Mommy had to go on a trip.”
Dakota nods solemnly. “And Mommy wants us to have qualipy time together.”
“Quality time, sweetheart,” I correct. “With a ‘t’ like for tiger. But that’s right.
We’re going to spend a lot of time together now, thanks to Mommy.
” I swallow the bitterness that rises whenever I think about Hannah’s Tokyo plans.
I’ve been careful not to let any of my anger toward Hannah slip in front of Dakota.
Whatever my feelings about her mother, Dakota doesn’t need to hear them.
“Okay. Can I show Sora Mr. Flops?”
“I bet she’d love that.”
Dakota unbuckles her seat belt with impressive dexterity for her age, bouncing in her seat as I come around the black SUV to open her door. The moment her feet hit the pavement, she’s off, racing toward Sora with Mr. Flops dangling from one hand.
“Hi! I’m Dakota! This is Mr. Flops! He’s a bunny! Do you like bunnies?”
Sora looks momentarily startled by the tiny whirlwind barreling toward her, but recovers quickly, crouching down to Dakota’s level.
“I love bunnies,” she says seriously, extending a hand to the stuffed animal. “It’s very nice to meet you, Mr. Flops. And you too, Dakota. I’m Sora.”
“I know. Daddy told me. He said you’re very nice and that you painted my room purple!”
Sora glances up at me, a smile tugging at her lips. “Did he now?”
“I may have mentioned it,” I say, approaching with Dakota’s princess suitcase in one hand and a box of her books in the other. “We’re running a little late. Sorry about that.”
“No problem.” Sora stands, tucking her hair behind her ear in a nervous gesture. “I was just enjoying the sunshine. It’s a beautiful day for a move.”
Our eyes meet, and for a moment, I’m back on that yacht, holding her close as we danced beneath the stars. Then Dakota tugs at my pants leg, breaking the spell.
“Can I see my room now? Please?”
Sora laughs, the sound bright and genuine. “Of course. Let me help your dad with your things first.”
“I’ve got it,” I say. “There’s more in the car, but we can get that later. Let’s give Koda the grand tour first.”
Sora nods, leading the way up the steps. Dakota follows, practically vibrating with excitement, Mr. Flops clutched tight against her chest.
The brownstone is even more impressive in daylight than it was when I first visited. High ceilings, hardwood floors, tasteful art on the walls—it’s the kind of place I would have dreamed of providing for my family if life had gone according to plan.
“Wow,” Dakota breathes, spinning in a slow circle in the entryway, taking it all in. “This is like a princess castle.”
Sora smiles, clearly pleased by her reaction. “Would the princess like to see her royal chambers?”
Dakota’s eyes glisten. “Yes!” She looks at me, reads my expression, then quickly adds, “ Please .”
“Good job,” I say. “Mind your manners, lil miss.”
Sora shoots me an amused glance. “You really are a country boy, aren’t you?”
I pretend to tip a hat at her.
“This way, Your Highness.” Sora offers a little curtsy, then leads us upstairs.
I follow, watching the easy way Sora interacts with my daughter. No awkwardness, no forced enthusiasm—just a natural warmth that has Dakota already reaching for her hand as they ascend the staircase.
The purple room is on the third floor, across from what will be my bedroom. The door is closed, but there’s a paper sign taped to it with “Princess Dakota’s Royal Chambers” written in elegant calligraphy. There are little stars and hearts drawn around the words, and a crown at the top of the sign.
“Did you make this?” I ask Sora.
She nods, suddenly looking shy. “I thought it might help her feel welcome.”
Something warm unfurls in my chest. I didn’t expect her to go to such lengths.
“Can I open it?” Dakota is practically dancing with anticipation.
“Go ahead,” Sora says.
Dakota turns the knob and pushes the door open, then freezes in the doorway, her mouth forming a perfect O of amazement.
The room is magical. The walls are a soft lavender, just as we’d painted them, but Sora has added so much more.
Sheer white curtains frame the windows, twinkle lights woven through them.
A canopy of gauzy purple fabric hangs over the new twin bed, which is covered in a fluffy comforter adorned with stars.
There’s a small bookshelf already filled with children’s books, a toy chest with Dakota’s name painted on the lid, and a little table and chairs set up for tea parties.
“Is this…mine?” Dakota whispers, as if afraid speaking too loudly might make it all disappear.
“All yours,” Sora confirms. “Do you like it?”
Dakota turns, her face alight with joy, and launches herself at Sora, wrapping her arms around her legs. “It’s the most beautiful room in the whole wide world! Thank you, thank you, thank you .”
Sora looks momentarily startled by the display of affection, but then gently pats Dakota’s back. “You’re very welcome. I’m glad you like it.”
I set down the suitcase and box, unable to tear my eyes away from the scene. This room must have cost a fortune to set up, not to mention the time and thought that went into it. All for a little girl she barely knows.
“Sora, this is incredible,” I say, my voice rough with emotion. “You didn’t have to do all this.”
Her fingers play with the hem of her T-shirt, seeming embarrassed by my gratitude. “It was nothing, really. I had fun with it.”
“Daddy, look!” Dakota has already moved on to exploring, pulling open drawers and exclaiming over each new discovery. “There are fairy lights! And look, she got me princess books! And a tea set!”
I meet Sora’s gaze over Dakota’s head. Thank you , I mouth silently.
She just smiles, a hint of color rising in her cheeks.
“Can I stay here forever?” Dakota asks, flopping backward onto the bed, arms spread wide. “It’s way nicer than my room at Mommy’s.”
I wince at the comparison. “Different, not better,” I correct automatically. The last thing I need is Dakota going back to Hannah with tales of how much “nicer” things are at Dad’s place. “And we’ll be here for a while, but not forever.”