Page 30 of The Girlfriend Card (Vegas Sin #4)

Fish Daddy

Dakota

O ttavia locked eyes with me, and a warm smile graced her lips as she stepped inside my place.

My head turned, stealing a peek at her ass as she passed.

Lord, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her sizzling figure; every curve and contour of her body captured my attention.

A primal desire ignited inside me, and I couldn’t wait to get her into my bedroom …

But as Ottavia entered my condo, she saw something that made her gasp.

“Look at your fish tank!” she said excitedly, and hurried over into the living room.

My tank was set up behind the couch, so you could perch on the couch and look into it. Ottavia hurried over and bounded onto the couch so she could get a better look.

“Oh my God! It’s so beautiful !”

I joined her, peering over the back of the couch.

“You like it?” I asked, surprise in my voice.

Because most girls I brought over ignored my aquarium completely.

Hey, I get it; fishkeeping is kind of a nerdy hobby.

You can’t pet or play with ’em, and you can’t take a cool picture with them to post on Instagram, either.

All you can really do is watch them, and fish aren’t anywhere near as cute as a dog or a cat.

But Ottavia dug it. “Look at all the plants! It’s so green! It’s like a jungle in there. I’ve never seen anything like it. Did you pay somebody to set this up?”

“Nope. I set it up myself.”

“ Wow . Great job.” She touched the glass, and several guppies darted out of the lush, floating foliage. Their colorful, dotted fins shimmered as they flocked to Ottavia’s hand, begging for food. “Oooh, so pretty. What are the guys with the pretty tails called?”

“Those are guppies. And the little neon guys are tetras. They’re both pretty easy fish to keep. ” I chuckled and admitted, “I’m kind of a beginner.”

That’s when the electric blue shrimp, foraging along the bottom of the sandy substrate, caught her eye. “Oh my goodness! What are these derpy little guys?!”

“Those are Blue Dream Shrimp.”

“That’s so cool! I didn’t know you could keep tiny shrimp in an aquarium!”

“Oh yeah, and they’re totally awesome, too. Those little fellas are probably my favorite out of the whole tank. They spend all day scurrying around, looking for food.”

“I never thought I’d call a shrimp pretty, but wow. They’re such a lovely bright blue.”

“Aren’t they?”

Side by side, we sat in quiet fascination, transfixed by the tranquil aquatic world.

“I’ve never been a fish person, but I can see the appeal,” she said. “It’s kind of meditative, isn’t it?”

“For sure. A lot of times, I’ll put on a movie on TV, only to find myself sucked into the fish movie instead.” I scratched the back of my neck. “I, uh. I call it the fish movie.”

“The fish movie.” She snickered. “Dakota Easton, I love this about you,” she said, grinning from ear to ear. “I think this is even sexier than you being a hockey player.”

“What? Really?” I laughed, stunned. “ How ?”

“It makes you seem more real! Don’t get me wrong, it’s super sexy that you’re a hockey player, obviously. But this is what makes you seem like a real human being.”

I chuckled, not knowing what to say. “Well, you’re uh … definitely the first girl to tell me that …”

“And it’s just so cute,” she said, grinning. “I have to say, I didn’t have you pegged as a fish guy.”

“I wasn’t until a year or so ago. Actually, the story of how I got into it is kinda pathetic. You probably won’t think it’s all that cute after I tell you.”

“Oh, I doubt that. Tell me.”

I told her how, last year, I started thinking about getting a dog or a cat, because all my friends were starting to settle down and get in serious relationships, and my condo was feeling a little lonely.

“Aww,” she interjected.

“But the problem with having a cat or a dog is, well, I’m an athlete; I’m always on the road. And I don’t want to have to get a pet sitter because that’s just one more thing to worry about. I guess the commitment scared me off.”

Her brow wrinkled. “But … I thought fish were a ton of work? Don’t you have to constantly change the water and worry about the water pH and all that?”

“Ah, see, that’s the beauty of my setup.”

She raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“How much do you want to know? Because I can geek out on you here if you want me to.”

“I would love it if you geeked out on me, Dakota.”

“Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you …”

I explained how I’d found a method of aquarium keeping called the Walstad method, which focuses on creating a self-sustaining ecosystem within the tank. The key to the Walstad method? Plants. Lots and lots and lots of plants.

“It all starts with a nutrient-rich substrate,” I said, pointing at the inch of soil at the very bottom of the tank. “The soil provides nutrients for the plants. And the plants filter out the excess waste and provide oxygen for the fish.”

“How do you keep the dirt from becoming mud?” she asked.

I pointed at the two inches of fine sand that capped the soil.

“The sand acts as a barrier, keeping the soil down, while allowing nutrients to slowly filter through.”

“That is so interesting,” she said.

“It’s basically an entire ecosystem with an entire food web. I don’t have to change my water or mess with any chemicals or any of that.” I leaned in closer. “Wanna know the craziest part? I don’t even have to feed the fish.”

She gasped. “What?! Then what do they eat?”

I tapped gently on the glass. “Take a closer look.”

She leaned closer, her face an inch away from the glass. A whole new world, teeming with aquatic insects, unfolded before her eyes—and she gasped when she realized that’s what the fish were nipping at as they swam around.

“They’re constantly hunting for food rather than waiting for me to feed them,” I explained. “It’s funny, because if you feed your fish too much, they won’t hunt—and then the food web gets out of balance, and that’s when you can run into issues with your water quality or algae.”

“Wow. This is so cool. How’d you find out about this method?”

I shrugged. “I guess … in my ultimate quest to avoid commitment … I did a bunch of research, and found the perfect setup that allows me to be a lazy piece of shit?”

She took my hand. “Hey. Don’t talk about yourself like that.

” She shook her head, her expression turning serious, almost angry.

“You’re not lazy, Dakota. I’ve known lazy people, and they don’t do tons of research and go through all the work to set something like this up.

” She traced comforting circles on my back with her hand.

“You really shouldn’t listen to the people that say you’re not dedicated.

Because you clearly are. You just need to find what works for you, what fits your style. And that’s perfectly fine.”

Her words touched me so deeply, a fuzzy warmth began to glow in my core.

For so long, I’d internalized all the negative labels thrown my way that I think I’d begun to believe people were right about me—but Ottavia’s kind and affirming words were like a soothing balm to my soul.

This was a woman who could see me for who I truly was.

This was a woman who believed in me—even when I didn’t believe in me. She was a game changer.

“Ottavia … I … I don’t know what to say.”

Unable to find the right words, I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her into a tight embrace, savoring the warm softness of her body against mine.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“Aw, baby. Of course” she said, squeezing me tightly. “And thank you for showing me your fish.”

We shared a little laugh, and I reached for the container of premium fish food.

“Should we feed them a little?” I asked.

“Didn’t you just say you shouldn’t feed them because they won’t hunt?”

“Yeahhhh …” I hesitated. “But that’s only if you give them too much. We can give them a little treat. Besides, it makes them so happy. Here, watch.”

With a quick shake of the container, I shook out a small dash of flakes into the water. The fish instantly went nuts, darting at the surface and eagerly devouring the tasty morsels.

Ottavia beamed. “You love to spoil your little fishies, don’t you?”

I grinned. “Maybe a little.”

“You’re a sweet fish daddy,” she teased, her voice filled with playful admiration.

Unable to resist the magnetic pull any longer, I turned to her, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. Our mouths met in a searing kiss, and her luscious lips set my senses ablaze. She sank into the couch beneath me as I pressed my body into hers.

But as we kissed, and my hand cupped her breast, I noticed something that stopped me in my tracks.

Ba-bump ba-bump ba-bump.

It was the rapid-fire beat of her heart, hammering away in her chest.

I sat up and gave her a gentle smile. “Is everything okay, Ottavia?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she said with a nervous laugh. “Why?”

I didn’t quite buy it. Something was bothering her.

“I can feel your heart beating.” I set my palm on her sternum. “Oh my God. It’s racing.”

“It is? Huh.” She gave an indifferent shrug. “That’s weird.”

I cocked my head and stared into her eyes.

What aren’t you telling me?

Ottavia shied from my gaze. “Can we move to your bedroom, actually?” With a snicker, she added, “I’d hate to corrupt your innocent fish.”

“Oh, is the tank bothering you?” I let out a relieved laugh. “My bad. I didn’t even think of that.”

“That’s okay. I really do love it.” She lowered her voice and said, “I just, y’know, don’t want them to watch.”

“I got ya,” I said, and we shared a little laugh.

I offered her my hand and led her to the bedroom. Ottavia climbed into bed, waiting for me on all fours while I shut the door. When I joined her, she pounced on me, kissing me so ravenously she almost knocked me over—almost as if she were eager to make up for the distraction.

But the more she kissed me, the more clear it became that the passion that had consumed us earlier—in her hotel room, in the Porsche, hell, in the elevator a few minutes ago—had vanished. And no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t force herself to rekindle it.

Something was on her mind. And it wasn’t going away.

I pulled her away. “Ottavia, what’s wrong?” I asked gently.

Flopping onto the mattress, she buried her face in her hands, and let out a disappointed wail. “Fu~ck.”

“What? What is it?” I asked. “You can tell me.”

“Why do you have to notice? Why can’t you just rip me out of my dress and fuck me?”

“Uh. Because I like you? And I care about you? And I’m not just using you for sex?” I let out a small laugh. “Listen, if you don’t want to do this, we don’t have to.”

“No!” She vehemently shook her head. “I do want to. So bad. More than you realize.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

“Because, Dakota, I can’t do it without first telling you something. I thought I could, but I can’t. It doesn’t feel right.”

“What is it, babe?” I asked sweetly, and stroked her hair.

“Promise me you won’t laugh?”

“I promise I won’t laugh.”

“Okay.” She drew a breath of air and murmured, “I haven’t done this before.”

“Done what?” I murmured.

I knew exactly what she meant, or at least I thought I knew what she meant, yet I couldn’t believe it.

“ This, ” she said, her eyes insistent. “I’m a virgin, Dakota.”