Some might call me a bastard. She calls me Daddy. I’m a recluse. A grumpy old man with no fucks to give and one friend left in this world. That friend manages to convince me a night out drinking is exactly what I need, even though all I want to do is wallow. That’s when I spot her. Mason, a sweet little pink-haired thing who looks like she should be selling tickets to a prom, not grinding against me on the dance floor of a bar. Our first interaction nearly takes me out at the knees. She doesn’t care about our age-difference, even though I’m almost three times older. I’m the last damn thing she needs, but once I get a taste, she becomes the only thing I crave. And I’m not known for letting go of my obsessions.