“Kenan.” She drops her head, crazy curls all over the place, into her hands. “Please leave it alone.”

Impossible. First, he takes a photo of her partially nude without permission. Then he has the balls to display it without a release. Then he leaves bruises on my girl?

My girl.

God, that feels right. I called her my girlfriend last night without even thinking about it. It rolled right out of me and felt as natural as breathing. As right as anything good I’ve ever had.

“I don’t want you to get in trouble.” Her brows pinch and her lips press together. “You have a lot to lose, Kenan. I don’t want drama in my life putting you in the news for anything other than how amazing you are. You said Bridget ruined your life. I don’t want to do that.”

“Don’t even put yourself in the same hemisphere as Bridget,” I say impatiently. “What she did is nothing like this. She betrayed me and got me caught up in a media circus.”

“Here’s a headline,” Lotus say sardonically. “NBA player arrested for assault and battery. Would that be circus enough for you?”

“You’re right about one thing.” I frame her face, tracing the delicate bones with my hands. “I have a lot to lose.” I kiss her forehead, her temple, her chin. “I have you to lose, Lotus,” I say, pulling back to hold her troubled stare. “No one will hurt you and get away with it.”

Something flickers in her eyes, and she glances down at her hands. “Only two people in my whole life have ever protected me,” she says, her voice wobbling. “Iris and MiMi. I haven’t trusted anyone else to.”

I know someone hurt her badly in the past. Her childhood trauma. I can’t think too much about how it connects to the struggle she’s been having with sex. If it’s anything like what I’ve imagined, I’m going to lose my shit when she finally tells me. Even the thought of someone harming Lotus, my tough, tiny girl, sets bloodhounds loose inside of me.

“You trust this ring to protect you,” I say, taking her hand and stroking the ring she never takes off, “because MiMi gave it to you.”

She nods, her head lowered, linking her hand with mine.

“What if she gave me to you?” I bend to whisper over her lips. “What if I’m your gris gris now?”

Her head jerks up and her eyes, darkened with emotion, fill with tears.

“I don’t believe in spells or potions or voodoo.” I put my hand over her heart, between her bare breasts. It covers most of her torso. “But I believe in this. I believe something special is happening between us, Lotus, and yeah, I’ve been hurt before. Lied to. Cheated on, but I’m not running away from this, from you, because of it. I won’t let what happened in the past keep me from giving us a chance.”

I kiss her nose and she shifts so our lips meet and cling briefly, sweetly.

“Let me protect you,” I whisper into our kiss, my hand still covering her heart.

She nods and scatters kisses over my jaw, my neck. While we were disagreeing, I didn’t pay attention to her nudity, but it pierces my consciousness now until I can’t focus on anything else. I want to explore all her body’s secrets. To inspect the gift I’ve been given.

“I wanna look at you,” I breathe across her pierced nipple, a dusky delicacy, and walk my fingers down to the lotus flower blooming around her navel. I glance up to find her studying me studying her, her grin indulgent. I trace the French lace filigreed at the tops of her thighs. My knuckle brushes her pussy, and her breath catches. Her throat moves with a deep swallow. My cock was so far down that pretty little throat last night.

“You sucked my dick, and I almost lost my mind.”

“You ain’t seen nothing yet,” she promises with a lascivious laugh.

I grin and slide my hand between her legs. “You’re wet,” I pant, my mouth watering.

“You have that effect on me.”

I tongue the smooth skin of her belly and lavish kisses between her breasts and suck the bar in her nipple between my teeth. I look down, and she’s dropped her legs open and is rubbing her clit. Her eyes are closed. Her neck arches.

“Don’t stop,” she gasps.

Hell, no, I won’t stop.

We work together—her between her legs, me at her breasts, conspiring to bring her pleasure. She’s writhing under her own hands, under my lips. I want her to come all over my sheets. The scent of her hair, the sweetness of her body—I want them to linger in this bed for days after she’s gone.

“Fuck,” she says on an expelled breath, her mouth falling open and her head pressing deep into my pillow while her body quakes and shudders.

When she quiets, I turn her over gently to feather kisses down the zipper decorating her spine, and the small flowers running along the sides.

Damn, her ass is perfect. I squeeze both round, firm globes and she gasps. I slide my finger between her cheeks and down to her pussy, spreading the juices she just poured out over the lips and then over her asshole, not daring to stick my finger in. We haven’t even had sex yet, much less anal. Lotus may not even be into that, though judging by the way she pushes her ass against the pressure of my finger and moans, she may be open-minded.

“You eat ass?” she asks suddenly, and I know she’s trying to throw me off.

“I’d eat yours,” I reply truthfully. Because there is no part of her that would not be good to me.

We both seem to find that really funny and crack up laughing. I flip her back over and pull her into me so I can feel the vibration of her happiness. I’m tickling her sides when a noise catches my attention.

“Did you hear that?” I ask, pausing, my fingers poised over her stomach.

“Yeah. Like a door?” She sits up. “Sounds like someone came into the apartment.”

“Nobody has a key, but . . .” I hop off the bed. “That has to be Simone. She’s the only one with a key.”

“Crap,” Lotus says under her breath, scrambling to get her top and skirt back on. Horror dawns on her face. “Kenan, my shoes and panties are still at the door.”

“And my pants,” I groan. “Dammit.”

I slip on sweatpants and a T-shirt, and make my way quickly to the front room. Dr. Packer had a family emergency and cancelled our last session, so we still haven’t talked to Simone about Lotus. I’d almost rather find a burglar than my daughter in the apartment right now, but it’s Bridget and Simone standing beside the pile of clothes we discarded in the foyer. Simone stares at Lotus’s panties, purse, and shoes. Bridget looks smug and furious.

“I don’t remember you being quite this sloppy, Kenan,” Bridget says, kicking our things out of their path. “Or having feet quite this small.”

“Hey,” I say, trying to keep my own anger out of my voice in front of Simone. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

I walk over and kiss Simone’s forehead.

“Morning, Moni,” I say, love-swiping her face. “I thought you had dance.”

She nods, her eyes still on Lotus’s things. “I skipped because I wanted to see Aunt Ken play.”

“I called,” Bridget says with a note of defensiveness, “but it rolled into voicemail.”

“When?” I frown at her. “I didn’t get any message. When did you call?”

“Earlier,” she says vaguely.

I’m sure she’s playing games again. I’m so sick of it.

“Whose things are those, Daddy?” Simone asks, her voice subdued, her eyes downcast.

I’m kicking myself. Yes, Bridget shouldn’t have barged into my place, but the weight of Simone’s sadness presses on me. I wish I’d pushed to have the conversation with Dr. Packer sooner, or waited to move forward with Lotus, though that’s hard to imagine given how badly I want her. My daughter is once again caught in her parents’ crosshairs—Bridget’s spitefulness and my carelessness, my lack of control. However we got to this juncture, we’re here now, and I can’t lie to her. She’s fourteen, not four. I need to respect her intelligence and the fact that she’s been exposed to a lot more than I had at her age.

“Do you remember the woman I introduced you to at the restaurant?” I ask, watching her face for signs of recognition.

“Lotus,” she says, meeting my eyes and nodding.

“Yeah. She and I are dating, Moni. She’s my girlfriend.”

Bridget gasps, and her frustration and anger grip me like a hand at my throat.

“She’s here.” I reach down to grab Lotus’s belongings. Scoop up my jeans. “I’ll be right back.”

When I walk into my bedroom, Lotus sits on the bed, the tulle skirt flared out around her, an anxious look on her pretty face.

“Is everything okay?” she asks. “Is the coast clear?”

“Yours, I believe,” I say, offering her the panties.

She grimaces, slipping them on and her feet into the red shoes.

“The coast is not clear.” I reach for her hand and walk toward the door. “There was a, let’s call it a mix-up, to give Bridget the benefit of the doubt, and Simone is going to the game today after all.”

Lotus stops, tugging on her hand. “What are you doing?”

“Babe, she was standing beside your purse, panties, and size-six shoes, which obviously weren’t mine. She’s not stupid, and I didn’t want to lie to her. I told her you’re here, and that we’re dating.”

“Is she okay?”

That’s the question I ask myself every day. I wonder what goes on in my daughter’s quick mind—how she’s processing the changes in her life. Huge sea changes that have come in waves and thrown her world into chaos.

“She’ll be okay,” I say with more confidence than I sometimes feel. “Lying to her won’t help. Come on.”

After a brief hesitation, Lotus nods and follows me.

When we reach the living room, my daughter sits on the couch typing on her phone. With the open floor plan, I can see Bridget in my kitchen, poking around in my refrigerator.