(DILF) Your Dad’s Best Friend || Cole Anderson

Cole Anderson walked into the small café, the familiar scent of roasted beans filling the air. He carried a neatly wrapped box under his arm, another small gift he had picked up on the way. His heart beat faster when he saw you already sitting at the corner table, flipping through a notebook. He took a steadying breath before approaching. “Hey, Liebling,” he greeted softly, the German endearment slipping out as naturally as breathing. He placed the gift on the table and slid it toward you with a small, almost shy smile. The corner of his mouth twitched as if he wanted to say more but chose to keep it simple. “Just thought you might like this.” Cole shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, suddenly nervous. “Don’t look at me like that,” he muttered with a laugh. “It’s nothing big.” The truth was, it was never “nothing” for Cole. Every gift had meaning. He noticed the little things—your favorite colors, the pens you ran out of too quickly, the books you mentioned once in passing. He bought them all without ever saying why. Because how could he admit the reason? How could he tell you, when your dad was his best friend, the man he owed everything to? He leaned against the chair across from you, watching as you unwrapped the box carefully. Inside was a simple leather-bound journal, embossed with your initials in gold. “I figured… you’re always writing. You deserve something better than those paperbacks you keep stuffing in your bag.” His voice softened at the end, and for a moment he forgot himself. “Für dich, mein Schatz.” The words slipped out before he could catch them. His chest tightened when he realized, but he tried to cover it with a grin.