Sebastian's POV
I swear, all I wanted was to drop Ava off.
That's it. Drop her off like a normal, responsible father. Maybe carry one box. Maybe kiss her forehead, tell her to not drink from plastic cups at parties. Something wholesome.
What I did not sign up for was the swarm of barely-legal, gloss-lipped university girls blinking up at me like I was some celebrity dad off a Netflix show.
Correction: like I was the main event.
"Is that your older brother?"
"Oh my God, is he single?"
"Do you think he'd tutor me? In like… economics?"
I heard it all.
And Ava? She was gripping my arm so tightly I was pretty sure I lost circulation in my bicep.
"This is my dad," she announced, sharp and loud, fake smile and all, flashing her ID badge like it was a weapon. "So back off unless you want to be dropkicked across the quad."
One girl blinked.
"Oh. Like… your stepdad?"
Ava inhaled so deeply I put my hand on her back, gently.
"Don't," I said under my breath. "It's the first day. Let's not get arrested for assault just yet."
"I'm restraining myself only because I promised not to commit felony-level crimes in front of the administration."
Another girl — tall, caramel skin, red lipstick, legs longer than my business career — sauntered up while Ava was distracted with a clipboard.
"You must be new here," she purred, looking me up and down. "Political science? Law?"
I blinked. "Sorry?"
She leaned closer, confident. "I've just never seen you around. I'd definitely remember."
Right. Here we go.
I gave her a polite smile, already preparing to exit this conversation without accidentally getting invited to a sorority wine night.
And then — Ava turned.
"Oh, sweetheart," the girl added, glancing at Ava like she was a piece of lint, "I'll return your boyfriend in a sec."
I didn't even get to open my mouth.
Ava exploded.
"BF? OH—NOPE." She stormed over, eyes blazing. "He's my dad, and if you try to flirt with him again, I'll make sure you never get laid on this campus again, so help me God."
The girl blinked. "Relax—"
"Do I look like I'm relaxed?!" Ava shrieked, slapping her hands on my chest dramatically. "Mine. Mine-mine-mine. Go eye-fuck someone your own age, Barbie."
The girl walked off, wide-eyed and muttering something about "possessive issues" and "therapy." Ava stuck her tongue out behind her.
I looked down at her. "Feel better?"
She huffed. "No. I wanna fight everyone here."
"You're gonna be such a joy to room with."
"I requested a single," she said smugly. "I don't share."
Of course she did.
Later that day, after the crowd had thinned and Ava was unpacking her twenty-seven skincare products into her dorm bathroom, I stepped outside to take a call. I was five minutes out when I heard someone call behind me.
"Hey! Wait!"
It was her.
The caramel-skinned, red-lipped girl again.
Great.
"Listen," she said, walking up, slower this time. "I… didn't realize. You're her dad. That's hot, actually. Like, really hot."
I stared at her.
She twirled her hair, biting her lip. "Just saying. If you ever wanna hang out… not as her dad…"
"I'm not interested," I said calmly.
"Oh, come on. You're not that old."
"Not interested," I repeated, voice colder.
Her gaze dropped once to my hands. "No ring."
"I don't need one to be loyal."
She opened her mouth again but Ava's voice, like clockwork, cut through the air.
"SEB!!!"
She was stomping toward us, barefoot, hair a mess, and wearing one of my shirts that fell to her knees.
"I CAN SMELL YOU FLIRTING FROM THREE FLOORS UP!" she screeched, grabbing my arm. "What part of mine did you not understand?!"
The girl backed off, finally, muttering something about "daddy kinks gone wrong."
I took Ava's hand and led her back to her room, quietly.
"I swear to God, Seb," she was still yapping, pacing in front of her bed, "I will pepper spray the next girl who breathes too close to you."
"I'm sure that's very illegal on campus."
"I'll frame them first. Don't test me."
I sat on her bed, watching her ramble.
Still the same Ava. Older. Smarter. A little less reckless. But still ridiculous. Still dramatic. Still mine.
She climbed into my lap, crossed her legs, and curled into my chest like she had since she was five.
"I know I can't keep you forever," she said quietly.
"You've got me forever," I said.
She looked up. "Yeah, but I have to share you now. With like… society. And college girls."
"Poor you," I murmured, brushing her hair back.
"I'll get used to it," she mumbled. "But only because I love you more than I hate them."
I chuckled.
"I love you too, baby girl." That One Hot Dad
Sebastian's POV
I swear, all I wanted was to drop Ava off.
That's it. Drop her off like a normal, responsible father. Maybe carry one box. Maybe kiss her forehead, tell her to not drink from plastic cups at parties. Something wholesome.
What I did not sign up for was the swarm of barely-legal, gloss-lipped university girls blinking up at me like I was some celebrity dad off a Netflix show.
Correction: like I was the main event.
"Is that your older brother?"
"Oh my God, is he single?"
"Do you think he'd tutor me? In like… economics?"
I heard it all.
And Ava? She was gripping my arm so tightly I was pretty sure I lost circulation in my bicep.
"This is my dad," she announced, sharp and loud, fake smile and all, flashing her ID badge like it was a weapon. "So back off unless you want to be dropkicked across the quad."
One girl blinked.
"Oh. Like… your stepdad?"
Ava inhaled so deeply I put my hand on her back, gently.
"Don't," I said under my breath. "It's the first day. Let's not get arrested for assault just yet."
"I'm restraining myself only because I promised not to commit felony-level crimes in front of the administration."
Another girl — tall, caramel skin, red lipstick, legs longer than my business career — sauntered up while Ava was distracted with a clipboard.
"You must be new here," she purred, looking me up and down. "Political science? Law?"
I blinked. "Sorry?"
She leaned closer, confident. "I've just never seen you around. I'd definitely remember."
Right. Here we go.
I gave her a polite smile, already preparing to exit this conversation without accidentally getting invited to a sorority wine night.
And then — Ava turned.
"Oh, sweetheart," the girl added, glancing at Ava like she was a piece of lint, "I'll return your boyfriend in a sec."
I didn't even get to open my mouth.
Ava exploded.
"BF? OH—NOPE." She stormed over, eyes blazing. "He's my dad, and if you try to flirt with him again, I'll make sure you never get laid on this campus again, so help me God."
The girl blinked. "Relax—"
"Do I look like I'm relaxed?!" Ava shrieked, slapping her hands on my chest dramatically. "Mine. Mine-mine-mine. Go eye-fuck someone your own age, Barbie."
The girl walked off, wide-eyed and muttering something about "possessive issues" and "therapy." Ava stuck her tongue out behind her.
I looked down at her. "Feel better?"
She huffed. "No. I wanna fight everyone here."
"You're gonna be such a joy to room with."
"I requested a single," she said smugly. "I don't share."
Of course she did.
Later that day, after the crowd had thinned and Ava was unpacking her twenty-seven skincare products into her dorm bathroom, I stepped outside to take a call. I was five minutes out when I heard someone call behind me.
"Hey! Wait!"
It was her.
The caramel-skinned, red-lipped girl again.
Great.
"Listen," she said, walking up, slower this time. "I… didn't realize. You're her dad. That's hot, actually. Like, really hot."
I stared at her.
She twirled her hair, biting her lip. "Just saying. If you ever wanna hang out… not as her dad…"
"I'm not interested," I said calmly.
"Oh, come on. You're not that old."
"Not interested," I repeated, voice colder.
Her gaze dropped once to my hands. "No ring."
"I don't need one to be loyal."
She opened her mouth again but Ava's voice, like clockwork, cut through the air.
"SEB!!!"
She was stomping toward us, barefoot, hair a mess, and wearing one of my shirts that fell to her knees.
"I CAN SMELL YOU FLIRTING FROM THREE FLOORS UP!" she screeched, grabbing my arm. "What part of mine did you not understand?!"
The girl backed off, finally, muttering something about "daddy kinks gone wrong."
I took Ava's hand and led her back to her room, quietly.
"I swear to God, Seb," she was still yapping, pacing in front of her bed, "I will pepper spray the next girl who breathes too close to you."
"I'm sure that's very illegal on campus."
"I'll frame them first. Don't test me."
I sat on her bed, watching her ramble.
Still the same Ava. Older. Smarter. A little less reckless. But still ridiculous. Still dramatic. Still mine.
She climbed into my lap, crossed her legs, and curled into my chest like she had since she was five.
"I know I can't keep you forever," she said quietly.
"You've got me forever," I said.
She looked up. "Yeah, but I have to share you now. With like… society. And college girls."
"Poor you," I murmured, brushing her hair back.
"I'll get used to it," she mumbled. "But only because I love you more than I hate them."
I chuckled.
"I love you too, baby girl."
---
8 months later
Sebastian's POV
I arrived fifteen minutes early.
That was my first mistake.
The campus parking lot was already packed — students wheeling suitcases, hugging friends, complaining about finals. I leaned against the car, arms crossed, sunglasses on, just waiting for Ava to come barreling out of her dorm with six bags and zero logic.
What I didn't expect?
Every third girl walking past to look at me like I was a goddamn dessert tray.
Low murmurs.
Side glances.
Double takes.
Slow, dragged-out stares that went from my hair to my shoes and then back up again.
One bold brunette in an oversized sweatshirt walked past, turned around, and whispered, "Jesus Christ."
Another one — messy bun, tiny skirt, lip gloss and zero shame — actually circled the car once, pretending to be looking for her Uber.
"Hi," she said, stopping beside me. "Sorry — are you waiting for someone or… just gracing us with your presence?"
I looked at her, completely expressionless. "Waiting for my daughter."
"Oh," she said, blushing. "Stepdaughter?"
"No."
She still didn't leave.
Another one joined her — tight tank top, glittery phone case, fake lashes for miles.
"You know," Tank Top said, "you look way too young to be a dad. Like… hot professor vibes."
Sunglasses still on, I didn't reply. Just tilted my head slightly, arms still crossed.
Sweatshirt Girl stepped closer. "We're, um… law majors. If you ever feel like giving lectures."
Tank Top giggled. "Private ones."
I opened my mouth to tell them to go away, but before I could — I heard the familiar clack of heels. Sharp. Furious.
A voice followed.
"Oh my GOD, he's not here to teach ethics, you brainless pigeons—"
Ava stormed into view, flinging her overnight bag to the pavement and marching over like a tiny stormcloud in lip gloss.
"She's seventeen," I murmured to the girls, as she arrived.
Ava threw herself between me and the girls like a shield.
"Do I look dead to you?" she snapped at them. "Do I look like I need help walking to a car?!"
They stared.
"I know you're not this desperate," Ava added. "Actually no — keep trying. I love watching you crash and burn."
"I didn't know he was—"
"Didn't know he was my dad?" Ava grinned, venomously. "Right. So you thought you'd come flash your ass cheeks at him in the parking lot like some clearance-bin stripper?"
"Girl, relax—"
"No you relax," Ava hissed. "There's nothing in this car for you unless you wanna be roadkill."
She picked up her bag and slid into the passenger seat with a huff. I watched the girls scurry off, whispering and muttering, flipping their hair like they hadn't just been verbally assaulted.
Inside the car, Ava buckled her seatbelt, crossed her arms, and looked straight ahead.
I blinked at her. "So. You're fine?"
"No," she snapped. "They were undressing you with their eyes like you were on the damn menu."
"Jealous?"
"Possessive." She whipped around. "There's a difference."
I started the engine. "Want to stop for snacks?"
"Yes. But I'm picking them. Because if one more girl breathes on you, I will go to jail."
"Duly noted."
We drove off. Her hand found mine on the gearshift and she interlaced our fingers like it was a statement.
Which it was.
Because Ava Langford may be tiny, dramatic, clingy and occasionally violent…
But she never shared her dad.
Sebastian's POV
I arrived fifteen minutes early.
That was my first mistake.
The campus parking lot was already packed — students wheeling suitcases, hugging friends, complaining about finals. I leaned against the car, arms crossed, sunglasses on, just waiting for Ava to come barreling out of her dorm with six bags and zero logic.
What I didn't expect?
Every third girl walking past to look at me like I was a goddamn dessert tray.
Low murmurs.
Side glances.
Double takes.
Slow, dragged-out stares that went from my hair to my shoes and then back up again.
One bold brunette in an oversized sweatshirt walked past, turned around, and whispered, "Jesus Christ."
Another one — messy bun, tiny skirt, lip gloss and zero shame — actually circled the car once, pretending to be looking for her Uber.
"Hi," she said, stopping beside me. "Sorry — are you waiting for someone or… just gracing us with your presence?"
I looked at her, completely expressionless. "Waiting for my daughter."
"Oh," she said, blushing. "Stepdaughter?"
"No."
She still didn't leave.
Another one joined her — tight tank top, glittery phone case, fake lashes for miles.
"You know," Tank Top said, "you look way too young to be a dad. Like… hot professor vibes."
Sunglasses still on, I didn't reply. Just tilted my head slightly, arms still crossed.
Sweatshirt Girl stepped closer. "We're, um… law majors. If you ever feel like giving lectures."
Tank Top giggled. "Private ones."
I opened my mouth to tell them to go away, but before I could — I heard the familiar clack of heels. Sharp. Furious.
A voice followed.
"Oh my GOD, he's not here to teach ethics, you brainless pigeons—"
Ava stormed into view, flinging her overnight bag to the pavement and marching over like a tiny stormcloud in lip gloss.
"She's seventeen," I murmured to the girls, as she arrived.
Ava threw herself between me and the girls like a shield.
"Do I look dead to you?" she snapped at them. "Do I look like I need help walking to a car?!"
They stared.
"I know you're not this desperate," Ava added. "Actually no — keep trying. I love watching you crash and burn."
"I didn't know he was—"
"Didn't know he was my dad?" Ava grinned, venomously. "Right. So you thought you'd come flash your ass cheeks at him in the parking lot like some clearance-bin stripper?"
"Girl, relax—"
"No you relax," Ava hissed. "There's nothing in this car for you unless you wanna be roadkill."
She picked up her bag and slid into the passenger seat with a huff. I watched the girls scurry off, whispering and muttering, flipping their hair like they hadn't just been verbally assaulted.
Inside the car, Ava buckled her seatbelt, crossed her arms, and looked straight ahead.
I blinked at her. "So. You're fine?"
"No," she snapped. "They were undressing you with their eyes like you were on the damn menu."
"Jealous?"
"Possessive." She whipped around. "There's a difference."
I started the engine. "Want to stop for snacks?"
"Yes. But I'm picking them. Because if one more girl breathes on you, I will go to jail."
"Duly noted."
We drove off. Her hand found mine on the gearshift and she interlaced our fingers like it was a statement.
Which it was.
Because Ava Chen may be tiny, dramatic, clingy and occasionally violent…
But she never shared her dad.