Discovering Us Spin-off: My Forbidden Love

“Daniel, could you lend a hand and load these trays into the car? I’m a bit behind schedule, and nobody wants to be the last one to arrive at the party.”

“Of course, Ma. In the trunk?” I respond, stacking the trays that won’t be easily damaged and leaving the more delicate ones to carry individually.

Today is Ella’s sixteenth birthday, and Violet, Callum, Tyler, and Zach are throwing her a surprise party. When I say surprise, I mean Ella is the only one in the dark. All her friends are en route, and her parents have decorated the house to the nines.

Her surprise gift… The massive white Land Rover she’s been pining for is parked in their garage, adorned with a huge pink bow. Yes, our Ella is a bit spoiled. But then again, so are the others… Antalya, perhaps even more so. The difference is, Talya is a brat about it, Ella isn’t.

She’s blossomed into a graceful young woman, and I’m all for it. She carries herself with such elegance, and it’s no exaggeration to say she turns heads wherever she goes.

It pisses me off to no end when I have to sit back and watch that. Just last week, some kid at the mall nearly got a fist to the face for touching her without her consent.

I’d only bumped into them by chance, but there was no way I was letting her go home with her friends.

Instead, I made up an excuse about needing her help, successfully pulling her away from that sleazy little punk. We ended up at our favorite restaurant, and I couldn’t help but gloat over the fact that I was spending time with her while he could only watch in envy.

Yeah, that threw me for a loop.

I went home and mulled over what the hell I was doing, and I came to a realization… I have feelings for my niece.

Yeah, that sounds messed up, right?

Technically speaking, it’s not accurate. She’s not my blood relative. She’s Tyler’s by genetics, and Violet isn’t related to us.

That’s why I’ve decided to start seeing Ella in a different light. I know, I know, she’s too young for me, but damn, I think I have a crush on her.

Of course, I won’t act on it because I’m not an idiot, and she’s still a kid, but yeah. So there’s my dirty little secret.

We all have them, some more scandalous than others, and I don’t think mine is all that bad, considering.

“What are you daydreaming about?” My ma snaps me out of my thoughts as she takes the towering stack of trays from my hands.

“Nothing, just something I need to wrap up at work.”

“How’s that going, running your own firm?” she inquires, patting my cheek in her usual manner.

My ma’s always curious. It’s one of the things I admire most about her. Her attentiveness.

“It’s going the same as last week, Ma. Zach’s been a huge help, and his investments and contracts will keep us afloat for years to come.”

“That’s what I like to hear, my boys getting along.”

Things have been tough for me recently, especially since pa passed away in November. Now, I can see the pain she’s concealing behind closed doors. We’ve all grown up, the grandkids included. They aren’t little anymore, and they’re all off doing their own thing, so she isn’t needed as much.

I know what’s coming before she says it. The same thing she’s been asking me for a while… but it’s the one thing I swore I wouldn’t do again until I found the one.

“When are you going to settle down and give me more grandkids? You’re thirty-four now, Daniel. Time isn’t on our side when we wait too long.”

“I’m waiting for the one, Ma, just like you told me to.”

She gives me a long, hard look before sighing heavily. Closing the trunk, she heads back to the house, muttering just loud enough for me to hear.

“One can’t stop screwing around, and the other won’t screw at all. Where did I go wrong?”

Suppressing a retort, I roll my eyes.

“Let me grab the rest of the trays, Ma?” I offer instead.

I assist my ma with the remaining food before she leaves for Zach’s house alone.

Retreating to my old room upstairs, I rummage through the closet where I stashed the gift I bought Ella.

It’s a vintage Polaroid camera. The kind where the photo prints out, and you shake the white film to make the image appear.

Ella has a passion for photography and she’s planning to pursue it in college.

I never knew photography could be a major, but it suits her. She’s patient and kind, the type who would wait a thousand years just to capture that perfect shot.

I pick up the gift my mom has already wrapped for me, leaving the card blank for me to fill in.

Thank God for mothers, right? I was just going to give it to her as it was.

I scribble a note in my messy handwriting, then tuck it back under the bow on the box.

Duchess, that’s my nickname for her. Ella speaks just like her mom, even though she’s always lived here in the US. Her accent is as perfectly British as Violet’s.

It’s just one more thing that makes her attractive to me.

Over the years, I’ve discovered that a British accent turns me on. So, there’s that…

With the gift ready, I head into town to pick up Ella and Tilly from the arcade where Ella thinks she’s spending her birthday. It’s ironic that she didn’t want a party, but her parents threw one anyway. It reminds me of my own sixteenth birthday, when my parents threw a party even though I didn’t have many friends.

School wasn’t my thing, and I was never good at socializing like Zach.

But Ella’s different. She has her close friends, but she doesn’t limit herself to them.

She easily mingles with everyone at school. She’s a social butterfly, and I love that about her.

I shake off a wave of sadness as I pull up outside the arcade and dial Ella’s number.

She answers, her laughter warming me from the inside out, as it always does.

“Hey, Daniel, what’s up?”

“I’m outside. Bring Tilly. I have something to show you,” I say, a smile spreading across my face.

“Outside where?”

“The arcade. Hurry up, duchess, I’m not getting any younger,” I tease.

She giggles again before agreeing.

“Okay, okay. We’re coming.”

“Great, I’m in the Volvo. See you soon.”

Not even four minutes later, Ella steps out of the arcade, dressed in her usual all-black attire, followed by Tilly, who’s wearing barely anything at all.

I’m relieved I thought to bring suitable party clothes, because Zach and Callum would have a fit if they saw their eldest daughter dressed like this. Her shorts are way too short, and her bralette leaves little to the imagination.

“Tils, what on earth are you wearing?” I mutter as she slams the car door shut. I quickly turn my gaze to Ella as she slides into the middle seat.

“They’re called clothes. You should try them sometime.”

“And what do you think I’m wearing, Tils?”

“You look like my dad,” she retorts, buckling her seatbelt as Ella settles in next to me.

“Funny, I’m his brother. That might explain it.”

“Haha, you know what I meant, you jerk,” she says, tossing something soft at me.

“Happy birthday, duchess.”

“Thanks, Daniel. What are you doing here?”

“Why not celebrate in style? I brought you both something to change into. Something classy,” I say, glancing pointedly at Tilly. “This is a big birthday. Let’s celebrate the end of your childhood.”

“Did Mom put you up to this? Because I didn’t want a party.” I shake my head as I drive toward my apartment, just seven blocks away.

“No, I just wanted to celebrate your birthday with you.”

The girls take their time getting ready at my place. I never realized how long it could take to put on a little makeup and a dress…

Ella comes downstairs before Tilly. She’s wearing a black corseted dress, and her thick eyeliner makes her eyes pop. One eye is a bright blue, like the ocean, and the other is a deep brown, like the earth we walk on.

“You look beautiful, duchess.”

“She returns the compliment,” she says, her smile lighting up as she moves toward the floor-to-ceiling window that opens to the balcony. She lets out a satisfied sigh, her gaze sweeping over the cityscape beneath us.

“You think I’m pretty?” She gives a nonchalant shrug, her eyes still fixed on the city’s horizon.

I hand her the gift I’ve brought along. She tears into the wrapping paper with an eager excitement.

Her eyes sparkle, mirroring the city’s night lights, as she discovers what’s inside.

“You didn’t!” she exclaims, twirling around before she bends down to pick up the camera from its box. She takes a quick shot of me, my grin captured in the frame, and I watch as the film slides out of the camera, her hand shaking it vigorously.

“See, you’re gorgeous,” she says, leaning in so close that I can catch a whiff of her peach-scented perfume.

Before I realize it, her lips are on mine, and instinctively, my hand pulls her closer before I break away.

She lets out a soft giggle, her fingers tracing her lips as she lowers her gaze.

“That was my first kiss…,” she murmurs, her voice barely audible next to my ear.

I’m not sure what prompts me to lift her chin, to look into her eyes and find the truth in her words, or what part of my self-control slips away when I lean in to kiss her again.

I kiss her the way she deserves to be kissed for the first time, our bodies leaning into each other as I gently press her back against the glass window.

Our lips fit together perfectly, her height matching mine just right. I keep my hands on her jaw, holding her in place.

I kiss her until her hands start to move on their own, snapping me back to reality.

The hand that was holding the camera wraps around my neck, her other hand sliding down my chest, both serving as a cold splash of reality that sobers me up instantly.

I reach out to hold her hand, pushing myself away from her to create some much-needed space between us.

She’s panting slightly, her eyes scanning my body, her hand reaching out to rub her thumb across my lips, probably because her dark berry lipstick has smeared onto my lips.

“No, Ella, that was your first kiss, but I should have known better. I’m sorry, duchess.”