Marriage with my daughter's father: Darling please be gentle - Chapter 67

Chapter 67: Chapter 67:No promise
Stanley had barely stepped into his apartment with Lilac in his arms before she began squirming.

“Stanley, your place smells nice,” she mumbled against his chest, her fingers loosely gripping his shirt.

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah? That’s called cleanliness. You should try it sometime.”

Lilac gasped, pushing away to glare at him—though, in her drunken state, it was more of a squinty pout. “Excuse you—I smell expensive. Like Chanel and bad decisions.”

Stanley bit back a chuckle, shaking his head. “Exactly my point.”

With zero patience left, he dropped her onto his couch. Lilac groaned, stretching like a spoiled cat before grabbing one of the throw pillows and hugging it.

“Comfy,” she murmured, already half-asleep.

Stanley sighed. “I swear if you puke on my couch, I’m throwing you out the window.”

“Shhh,” she whispered dramatically, holding up a finger. “Let me… drift into my beauty sleep.”

Stanley rubbed his temples, wondering why he was the one stuck dealing with this mess. But before he could retreat to the kitchen for a well-deserved drink, the sound of the front door unlocking froze him in place.

His eyes snapped to the entrance just as the door swung open.

Sean stepped inside, casually kicking it shut behind him. “Yo, Stan, you won’t believe the night I had—”

He stopped dead in his tracks. His gaze shifted from Stanley… to Lilac, sprawled out on his couch in a very compromising position, her dress slightly askew from all her tossing and turning.

An eerie silence filled the room.

Lilac blinked up at Sean, her intoxicated mind struggling to place him. Then, suddenly, she gasped, pointing a shaky finger.

“Why are there two of you?”

Stanley groaned. “Perfect.”

Sean’s expression flickered between amusement and confusion before settling on a slow, smug smirk. “Well, this is interesting.”

“It’s not what you think,” Stanley deadpanned.

Sean crossed his arms. “Really? Because it looks like you brought a very wasted Lilac home, and now she’s in your clothes—”

“I’m not in his clothes,” Lilac muttered, frowning at herself. Then, as if just realizing she wasn’t wearing her heels anymore, she gasped dramatically. “Wait. Where are my shoes?”

“Jesus Christ,” Stanley muttered under his breath.

Sean leaned against the wall, barely holding back his laughter. “You know, if I didn’t know you, I’d assume you took advantage of a drunk, defenseless woman—”

Stanley shot him a glare. “Finish that sentence, and I’ll make sure you wake up in a ditch.”

Sean grinned. “Relax, man. I’m just saying, this is very out of character for you. You, of all people, babysitting Lilac Kalix?”

Stanley ran a hand through his hair, exhaling. “She was drunk out of her mind. I wasn’t about to leave her at the club.”

Sean hummed, his eyes flicking between them with interest. “Huh. Didn’t know you cared.”

Stanley looked away, ignoring the way Lilac was now making herself comfortable in his lap as if he were her personal pillow.

Sean’s grin widened. “Oh, this is gonna be fun.”

Sean smirked, clearly enjoying the disaster unfolding before him. “Well, I’d love to stick around and watch this train wreck play out, but I have better things to do.”

Stanley shot him a dry look. “Then why are you still here?”

Sean chuckled. “Just making sure you don’t do anything scandalous. But you know what? Looks like Lilac’s the real problem here.”

Lilac, who had made herself very comfortable on Stanley’s lap, lazily trailed her fingers down his chest. “He’s not a problem, he’s a delight,” she purred, blinking up at Stanley with half-lidded eyes.

Sean let out a low whistle. “Yeah, I’m definitely leaving before she starts stripping.”

Lilac smirked. “Unless you want to join?”

Sean barked out a laugh. “Tempting, sweetheart, but I value my life. Kalix would skin me alive if he found out I even breathed in your direction the wrong way.”

Stanley groaned, shoving Sean toward the door. “Get out.”

Sean held up his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. Have fun, lover boy.” He shot Stanley a knowing look before slipping out and shutting the door behind him.

As soon as they were alone, Stanley exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You really need to stop drinking so much.”

Lilac giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck. “And you really need to loosen up.”

Stanley stiffened as she shifted on his lap, pressing her body dangerously close to his. “Lilac—”

“What?” she whispered, her lips brushing against his jaw.

His grip tightened on her waist, but he didn’t push her away. Bad idea. Very bad idea.

“You’re drunk,” he reminded her, voice strained.

Lilac smirked, trailing her fingers over his collarbone. “Maybe. But that doesn’t mean I don’t know what I want.”

Stanley swallowed hard as she tilted her head, her lips hovering just over his. Her scent—warm, intoxicating, utterly Lilac—wrapped around him like a vice.

He should stop this.

He needed to stop this.

But when her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, and her lips brushed against his—soft, teasing, dangerous—he knew he was already losing.

“Admit it,” she whispered, her breath warm against his lips. “You want this too.”

His jaw clenched. “You’re playing a dangerous game, princess.”

Lilac smirked. “Then play with me.”

Stanley exhaled sharply, his hands coming up to grip Lilac’s shoulders, but instead of pulling her closer, he gently pushed her away.

“Lilac,” he murmured, his voice rough but firm. “You’re drunk.”

Lilac frowned, her brows furrowing slightly. “So?” she countered, tilting her head as if she truly didn’t understand the problem.

Stanley let out a strained chuckle, shaking his head. “So… I’m not doing this. Not like this.”

Her lips parted, a flicker of confusion in her hazy eyes. “But I want this,” she insisted, her fingers playing with the fabric of his shirt. “And I know you do too.”

Stanley swallowed, his grip on her arms tightening for just a second before he forced himself to let go. “You don’t even know what you want right now, Lilac,” he said, softer this time. “And I won’t take advantage of that.”

Lilac blinked at him, as if processing his words, before her face twisted into something close to frustration. “I’m not some helpless little girl, Stanley. I can make my own choices.”

“I know that,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “But tonight, you’re not thinking straight. You’ll regret this in the morning, and I don’t want that on my conscience.”

Lilac bit her lip, her frustration melting into something more vulnerable. “What if I won’t regret it?”

Stanley sighed, lifting a hand to brush a stray strand of hair from her face. “Then tell me that when you’re sober.”

Silence stretched between them, thick with something unspoken. Lilac stared at him, searching his face for something—maybe a sign that he was just pretending to resist, that he was waiting for her to push harder.

But all she saw was sincerity.

And that… that made something in her chest ache.

She slumped back against the couch with a dramatic sigh, throwing an arm over her eyes. “Fine. Ruin my fun.”

Stanley chuckled, relief washing over him as he leaned back as well. “I’ll take that over ruining you.”

Lilac peeked at him from under her arm, lips twitching. “That was really smooth.”

He smirked. “I know.”

A small pause. Then, in a softer voice, she muttered, “Thanks… for not being like other guys.”

Stanley glanced at her, his expression unreadable. “You don’t have to thank me for doing the right thing, Lilac.”

Another silence. Then, she scoffed, turning away. “Ugh, stop being such a good guy. It’s annoying.”

He laughed. “Then stop throwing yourself at me when you’re drunk.”

Lilac groaned into the couch cushion. “No promises.”

Stanley shook his head, watching as she slowly started dozing off. As reckless and stubborn as she was, she deserved someone who would treat her right.

And he knew that he wasn’t the one for her.