Instead of feeling the usual excitement when my eyes landed on his smiling face, my immediate thought was panic.

Was Daryl still here?

In my bed?

Naked.

Did we flush the pot?

Did my dad know?

Could he tell?

Aw crap…

"Dad," I managed to scrape out the word, though my throat was dry as cardboard. "You're home."

"Hey, beautiful," my father replied, closing the space between us and wrapping me up in is arms. "It's good to see you, Molly-Sue."

"You too," I croaked out, patting his back before slowly untangling myself from him. "When did you get back?"

Please say now.

Please god say you only got back now.

"This morning."

No.

No.

"I actually got back just in time to show your pillow pal to the door."

Fuck.

Oh Jesus, no!

Let me die…

"What happened to the house rules, Molly?"

"It's not what you think," I strangled out, unable to hide my grimace, as I dropped my bag on the floor and scampered into the kitchen, mentally plotting a lie to get myself out of this horrifically awkward situation. "I, ah, it's actual a pretty funny story when you think about it –"

"You're eighteen now, Molly," Dad cut in, following me into the kitchen. "I'm not happy about you having a boy sleep over, but I can hardly ground you for it, can I?"

"Not a boy, Dad," I mumbled, pouring myself a glass of water. The boy. "Daryl."

"Daryl," Dad repeated with a weary sigh. "So, he's back on the scene?"

"I don't know." Shrugging, I kept my back to him and took a sip of my water. "Maybe. How long are you home for?"

"I fly out to New York on Saturday morning. Care for my two cents worth?"

"No." Sighing, I placed my glass in the sink. "Not really, but you might as well get it off your chest."

"Don't be reckless with your heart."

It was sound advice.

A little late, but valid none the less.

"He's a good boy, Molly, I've never denied that."

"But?" I bit out, feeling pained.

"He's going to play college ball, sweetheart. In a few short months, he'll be out of state and hundreds of miles of away. With a little luck, he'll be drafted into the NFL. His future is on a different path to yours."

I winced. "So, in other words, Daryl King is going places and I'm not?"

"Of course you're going places."

I blew out a pained breath. "Just not with him."

"Not with him," Dad confirmed after a long pause. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," I croaked out, with a shake of my head. "It's not like we're dating or anything. We literally just started hanging out again."

"Maybe it's best if you both… stop?" he offered, tone cautious. "Prevention is better than a cure and all that…"

"Yeah," I sighed heavily. "Maybe."

Excusing myself from the room, I skulked up to my bedroom, needing some alone time to gather my thoughts and rebuild the chipped armor around my heart.