Elle’s smile was wide and so genuine it lit up her eyes. “Exactly that. It’s only a tiny bit of my life that you see.”
“And it’s all specially made for the videos.”
“Just like everyone else’s,” she agreed. “But Calla’s channel is a little bit more real life because a lot of them are filmed in her salon on actual clients. They’re sped up a lot, though.” She finished tying off the braid with a flourish. “Done!”
Ari ran her hands over them, her face lighting up as her fingertips reached the very ends of the braids. “Wow wow wow!” She jumped off the stool and ran to the downstairs toilet room, where another shriek of “Wow!” was heard from inside.
Elle muffled a laugh.
“I love it! Thank you!” She ran back in, right over to Elle, and slammed into her to hug her. Elle let out a grunting noise, but she accepted the hug and returned it just as enthusiastically.
“You’re welcome, Ari.”
“I’m gonna go watch that girl’s videos now!”
“It’s bedtime,” I reminded her. “Brush your teeth.”
“Aw, but, Dad!”
I glanced at Elle, who shrugged as if to say it wasn’t her problem. Which it technically wasn’t, but still. “Fine,” I said after a moment. “You can have an extra thirty minutes, but you’re cleaning the sinks tomorrow.”
Ari didn’t even bother weighing it up. She kissed my cheek with a squeal and ran upstairs.
“You’re a total soft touch,” Elle said, cleaning Ari’s hair off the comb and putting it in the bin. “No wonder she and I are practically best friends after your first impression of me.”
I laughed. “Man, I wish I could argue with that.”
“Think of it like this: she’s learning about other people and the way they do things. Their culture, I guess.”
“True. And if it means I don’t raise a racist arsehole, then it’s worth her staying up thirty minutes late.”
“Oh, please. Like she could ever be racist.”
“I don’t know. It was pretty touch and go when we watched Aladdin.”
Elle set down the comb on a gentle laugh. “Of course it was. It was her first encounter with an Arabian culture, I’d imagine. Being curious doesn’t make her a racist, it makes her… well, a kid. Kids aren’t inherently racist, just like kids don’t hold naturally occurring prejudices or anything like that. Kids are what they’re taught to be.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Is that your professional opinion, Dr. Evans?”
“I did tell you I had a degree in psychology. It’s not my fault I’m a genius.”
“A genius. Really.”
“Yep.” She lifted her lemonade and put the straw between her lips. “Graduated with a four-point-oh GPA, Summa Cum Laude.”
“You can braid hair, you’re a genius, you’re loved all over the world—is there anything you can’t do?”
“Yes, based on the last few days, I’m not that great at painting, I trip over doorframes, and I entertain a friendship with your conspiracy theorist great aunt.”
“The last one is the most disturbing.”
“Maybe I should put her on my channel. Could be quite entertaining.”
“You should make them their own and charge them commission for filming and uploading. They’d pay you just to get their names out there.”
She raised her eyebrows. “I am not filming them on a regular basis.”
“It would keep them out of my hair.”
“Ah, so your intentions are purely selfish.”
“Hey, we can’t all be as perfect as you are.”
She laughed, setting the lemonade down. “Oh, be quiet. You’re hardly a walking hot mess. I have the grace of a newborn giraffe with one leg.”
“I might start taking bets for the next time you’re going to fall over,” I said. “Shall we go… in about an hour?”
“Here’s a bet for you.” She showed me her middle finger.
I walked over to her and curled it back into her fist, then slowly dropped her hand down. “Now, now.”
“Now, now, what?”
“That doesn’t help you with your grace thing.”
“And you watched me try to clean paint out of my cleavage two days ago. I’m not really winning any points here.”
I grinned and glanced down. “For what it’s worth, it looks like you got it all.”
She moved to swat at my arm, but I was faster than her and caught her wrist. Before she could do anything about it, I tugged her to me, closing the distance between our bodies, and pressed my lips to hers.
She squeaked in shock, but almost immediately she relaxed against me. I cupped the back of her neck with my hand to keep her against me, relishing the tartness of the lemonade on her lips.
Elle moved onto tiptoes, kissing me back firmly. Heat wound its way through my body, and blood rushed to my cock. It was too damn soon for that to be getting its own ideas, so I pulled away before it ended up becoming too obvious.
Judging by the smirk on her face, I hadn’t moved fast enough.
“Oh, my God, I love her videos!” Ari came rushing in, and we jumped back from each other like we were on fire. She looked between us, confusion on her face.
“Elle slipped. I caught her,” I said lamely.
“Dad, I’m nine. I watch TV. People do that on TV when they’ve been kissing but they don’t want anyone to see. I know that.” She wrinkled her nose up. “Yuck.”
Elle buried her face in her hands.
“Goodnight.” With that, she left, muttering to herself about how gross kissing is.
I laughed because that was not the reaction I’d been expecting.
“So much for hiding anything from Ari,” Elle said, dropping her hands.
“You’re right. Next time I feel the desire to kiss you, I’ll go and make sure she’s asleep first,” I replied dryly. “That won’t ruin the moment at all.”
“Don’t worry. I promise I won’t move a muscle when you do.”
“Smartarse.”
***
I turned around and jumped at the sight of Ari standing in front of me, staring at me, completely expressionless. With her two braids and black outfit, she resembled Wednesday Addams a little too closely. “What have I told you about doing that?”
“Doing what?”
“Creeping up on people. It scares them.”
“No, Dad, it scares you.”
“Same thing.” I put the wine glass I was drying in the cupboard. “What’s up?”
“Are you dating Elle?”
I shook my head and answered honestly. “No.”
“Do you want to date Elle?”
“I’m not sure any of this is something you need to worry about right now, sweetheart,” I said softly.
She hopped up onto one of the island stools. “Okay, but do you like her? Because she’s really nice, and you were mean to her when she got here.”
“I was mean to her,” I admitted, putting down the towel and leaning on the island.
“Why?”