I'm always reminded of my mother's wise words: the days are long, but the years are short. Somehow those long days stretch into weeks, dissolving into years before my blind eyes.

When Isabella was little, I was so caught up in the busy day-to-day activities of life as a single parent that the subtle changes in her went unnoticed by me. It would hit me hard when I saw a random snapshot or photograph of my daughter that captured a glimpse of the young lady she was becoming. There would be a look in her eye or a flash of her smile that was more mature than I thought she was. Sometimes the moment would catch me off guard; forcing me to stop, take notice, and be present.

I had one of those moments when Isabella was 16. Coming home from work on a Friday afternoon I found her in the living room, smiling to herself as she texted back and forth with a friend. She was sprawled out in the recliner, the same worn, now threadbare chair I'd had in my parent's basement. I'd thought about disposing of the ugly old thing but I liked the memories it held for me. I didn't have to close my eyes to see myself dozing off with my baby curled up on my chest, both of us with content smiles on our faces. The chair was like a time machine and for that reason I kept it, and the memories, close to my heart.

Before me, lounging sideways on that old recliner, legs dangling over, was a girl on the brink of adulthood. Time sprung ahead and left my baby in its wake.

I looked past the memories and took notice of Isabella's bare legs. There was a time when Hello Kitty Bandaids were a regular accessory. Not today. There weren't any fresh scabs on her knees or bruises on her shins. Something seemingly insignificant made me realize the years had gone by so quickly. The circling hands on the clock reached the future I thought was so far away.

My baby girl wasn't a baby any more. I swallowed the lump in my throat.

Though my relationship with her mother was non-existent I could see the best of both of us manifested in our daughter. Eyes the color of rich soil, flecked with black and amber were a carbon copy of her mother's. Her mouth too, but she had my nose and pale complexion. Isabella's long, dirty blonde hair - no idea who she got that from - had hints of copper in sunlight, similar to mine. Usually wavy, today she'd flat ironed it, wearing it loose and spilling over her left shoulder. She absentmindedly played with the strands, twisting it into ringlets with her index finger.

I sat down on the armrest of the chair and kissed the top of her head. Even though she was growing up, she'd always be my little girl, with or without skinned knees.

"Hey, beautiful girl. How was school?"

Isabella smiled at my compliment though she didn't look up from her conversation.

"Good."

"Great. Hey, uh, is there a reason why you're not wearing pants?"

Isabella glanced down. "I'm wearing shorts."

Yes, they were certainly that. All I could see was thigh - too much thigh. I loathed that September heat wave, not only because of the atypical skyrocketing temperatures but also because it meant Isabella wore clothes that were far too short and revealing for my liking.

"Did you wear that to school today?"

"Uh, yeah." She rolled her eyes which I interpreted to mean I was the least cool dad in the state. I flash-backed to my mom lecturing me about my disheveled hair and sagging pants which were usually low enough to see the band of my Calvin Kleins. Apparently, this was called payback. Lovely.

"Do you have any plans for tonight? I was hoping we could grab a bite to eat, maybe catch a movie? What do you say – want a date with your old man?"

Isabella was apologetic. "Oh, I'm sorry Dad, I'm busy tonight. I have to work on this stupid biology project for school and I'm meeting some classmates at the library at six." She looked at the time on her phone. "I'm going to have a bath before I need to get ready to head out." She hopped off the chair and planted a kiss on my cheek before disappearing into the bathroom.

I chuckled at the amount of time she needed to get ready but the years with Rosalie in my life had prepared me for the primping and priming girls required.

Ninety minutes later, as Rosalie, Emmett, and I were settling in to watch the Mariners, Isabella emerged from the bathroom. Rose gave a low whistle.

"Hot date, kiddo?"

The absurdity of the comment was funny until panic made me catch my breath when Isabella didn't deny it. Instead, she shrugged her shoulders as a blush crept from her neck to the very tips of her ears. Emmett and I exchanged worried glances.

I was dumbfounded. Isabella was going on a date? If I'd had some warning I would have sat her down and had a talk with her. You know - the talk. About boys and their grabby hands and perverted minds.

"I- I thought you told me you were going to the library?" I stuttered.

"I am."

"Is that how kids dress to go to the library nowadays?" Emmett crossed his arms over his chest in protective pseudo-daddy mode.

"Nowadays?" Rosalie mocked. "What's wrong with her outfit, Grandpa? She looks great."

"I'm with Emmett. Isabella, you aren't going out like that."

"Like what? It's just jeans and a shirt."

Isabella looped her thumb into her belt loop, the silver bangles on her arm clanked together as they slid down her wrist. She stood with her hip jutted out slightly, legs shoulder width apart. When Isabella looked down to survey her outfit, her shirt slipped off her shoulder revealing a skinny, black bra strap.

Hell to the N. O. 'Just jeans and a shirt', my ass.

In five strides I made it over to her and adjusted her top, covering her bare shoulder. No sooner had I done that and the other side slipped down.

"See? Your shirt doesn't even fit you properly." I threw my hands up in exasperation.

"It's the style." Isabella huffed.

"You can't go out with a naked shoulder and...and...toe cleavage!" I pointed at her feet where you could clearly see the partial exposure of her toes in shoes that were cut way too low.

"Oh no! I have toe cleavage! Nothing sexier than that." My daughter mocked.

Rosalie attempted to cover up her snort with a fake cough. I glared at her.

"People judge you by the way you look. It isn't fair, but it's the way the world works. You need to keep that in mind when choosing your outfit."

Oh my God, I was turning into my parents.

"And what exactly does toe cleavage say about me?" She raised her eyebrow in question. To be honest, I didn't have an answer but I did have a response - my old stand-by.

"I don't have to explain myself to you. I'm your father. Go change."

"Fine." Except her 'fine' wasn't of the 'fuck you' variety so I knew it wasn't really fine. Isabella continued. "I'll just go put on the shorts I had on earlier."

Check and mate. She smirked and I growled under my breath.

"Why are you all dressed up anyway? I thought you were meeting a group of classmates?"

"I am."

Rosalie smiled. "I'm guessing one of those classmates happens to be cute."

Isabella's face was confirmation.

"What's his name?" I tried not to sound anxious but by barking my question I didn't succeed.

"Jake."

I swallowed hard. "That sounds like a boy's name."

"Uh, yeah, it would be."

"Jake what?"

"Dad…" Isabella started to protest, relenting when she saw it wasn't up for debate. She sighed. "Black. Jacob Black."

"What's his social security number?" Emmett demanded.

"How old is he?"

"Where does he live?"

"What does he drive?"

"What's his mother's maiden name?"

Rosalie rolled her eyes as Emmett and I threw out rapid-fire questions. "Ignore them, honey. Is he cute?"

"Not as cute as my dad." Isabella worked her magic seamlessly.

"Is this a date date? I thought you weren't supposed to date anyone but me?" I pouted and Isabella gave me a sympathetic look.

"Look, it's not a date. We were paired up by our teacher for this stupid project. Jake's captain of the football team, extremely popular and, yeah, I think he's cute so I wanted to look nice, okay? Besides, I'm not anywhere near his radar so don't get all worked up." She looked down and frowned.

Her insecurities instantly brought me back to my youth when life, even before Ally, was complicated. Always trying to fit in; to figure out if one girl's fluttering eyelashes were a sign of adoration or bad eyesight. I lifted her chin with my hand.

"Baby girl, you look better than nice. You look beautiful and this Jake kid would be crazy not to notice." Isabella gave me a half smile. "But if he lays one finger on you, he's a dead man." I gave her a wink but I was far from joking.

"May I go now?"

I nodded. "Do you want a ride?"

"No, thank you."

"I promise I won't follow you into the library or otherwise embarrass you."

Isabella glanced over at Emmett. "It's not you I'm worried about."

Rosalie draped her arm around her husband's shoulder. "Don't worry about him, I'll make sure he stays out of trouble."

"Thanks. I've gotta go. I'll be home just after nine." She gave me a quick hug before she grabbed her book bag and closed the door behind her.

I stared after her as I sank down onto the couch. Perhaps I was being melodramatic but her leaving felt like an exodus of her childhood. Life would only get more complicated with the addition of the opposite sex in our lives. I was afraid the first boy who broke her heart would also break mine.

"Our girl's growing up." Emmett spoke quietly.

"She is. I don't like it." I rubbed my hands over my face.

"She's not six anymore, guys. Yeah, she is growing up and into a lovely young woman."

"Who likes boys," I bemoaned.

Rosalie passed me a beer, not in celebration but in consolation. "We knew it was only a matter of time."

"Do you think she's actually going to the library?"

"Emmett, of course she is. Isabella's a great kid with a good head on her shoulders. She got that from you, you know." Rose smiled at me. "Trust her. At least until she gives you reason not to."

"It's not her I'm worried about. Boys suck sometimes," I whined.

"For sure." Emmett agreed.

"Relax. Let's watch the game, okay? The library closes at nine - it's a ten minute walk home so by 9:15, at the very latest, you can grill Isabella to your heart's content." She knew me well.

Emmett and Rosalie left at nine so Isabella and I could talk privately when she got home. By 9:18 I was pacing the floor and sporting a few more grey hairs. Walking the floor with a colicky baby was far easier than waiting around for my daughter to get home from a non-date with a boy. If I could have manipulated time to rewind 16 years I would have, in a heartbeat.

When she finally came home at 9:20 and 32 seconds I tried to look casual by tidying up the already clean kitchen.

"Oh, hi. Are you home already?"

Isabella's lips twisted into a smirk. "How long have you been wiping that same spot on the counter?"

I gave her a sheepish grin. "That obvious, huh?"

"Yep." She dropped her bag on the floor and sat down at the kitchen table. I tossed the rag into the sink and sat across from her.

"How'd it go?"

"Good, I guess. We got a good chunk of the project done."

"How was, oh shoot, what was his name again? Jason?" I feigned stupidity so she wouldn't think he was all I'd thought about while she was out.

"Nice try, Dad. Jake was good. It was really strange, though. He couldn't stop staring at my toe cleavage all night." She mocked.

I traced a figure eight on the tabletop, wondering if I should probe further. "So, nothing significant to report?"

Isabella shook her head. "Nope. We worked on the project and then he walked Leah and me home. Sorry, that's why I was a bit late; we detoured to her house first." She grabbed an apple out of the fruit bowl on the counter and took a bite. "Who won the game?" She asked with a mouthful.

Isabella was quick, too quick, to change the subject. I side-eyed her, wondering if something happened at the library or on the walk home. My heart leapt and got stuck in my throat. What if he'd kissed her? I distinctly remembered my first kiss, which coincided with my first boob grope. Boys, even the best of them, are pervy, horny bastards. I knew it was time for me to warn my daughter about my species. I dreaded having the talk but unless I wanted to be a grandpa before I hit 40, it had to be done.

Selfishly, I wanted to enjoy at least one more night with my not-so-little girl before I did. So I let her change the subject and we spent the rest of the night watching a movie. The talk would come soon enough.

Someone nominated this story for best snuggle fic and me for potential best-selling author. I was shocked to be nominated in the first place but never expected it would be for those categories. There are so many other stories and authors who are far more deserving than me but I thank you for the nomination - what an honor! A heart-felt thank you to Iris aka Mariah Hajile for her tireless work on the contest. In case you haven't been told this today - you're incredible. And so is Alanna Capricorn75 for being my friend and beta.

And so much appreciation for each of your reading. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please leave a note if you did.