Chapter 1

My roommates were all out on the dance floor, but thankfully, it seemed like they hadn't noticed that I wasn't following. Or that, instead of just grabbing another drink first, like I'd told them I was going to, I'd awkwardly set up camp on a bar stool and planned to stay for a while.

Not that it had been a total lie.

I did order myself another drink.

My second of the night.

And I wasn't actually trying to dodge them, or the dancing, it was just that I was a total lightweight who didn't normally drink much, and I actually wasn't sure if I could stand up without swaying at the moment.

Well, okay. Maybe I was dodging the dancing.

And the whole, you know, socializing with strangers part, too.

"But tipsy or not, I'm really not drunk enough for all that yet," I murmured under my breath, feeling a little guilty that I wasn't having a good time when that was what my roommates had dragged me out here for.

Well, even though they hadn't exactly said so, I figured they'd really dragged me out to cheer me up after getting dumped by Hannah, which had happened weeks ago. I was actually over it, but I guess they didn't see it that way.

But it wasn't her that had me down lately. It was everything else. Regular stuff that felt too pathetic to whine to anyone about, but that still felt like a lot.

I gulped down the rest of my drink—all of it, all at once—then immediately choked a little because wow, that was a lot, too.

"Oh God, I'm pathetic," I mumbled once I could breathe again.

The bartender leaned over the bar, cupping his ear. "What was that? Another?"

"No, but thank you," I shouted back, embarrassed that he'd caught me talking to myself. "It's just that this isn't really my scene, and I was feeling a little…"

I trailed off, blushing hard.

He'd given me a curt nod as soon as I said no to the drink, and was already walking away. I guessed that meant that the whole pour your heart out to the bartender and get some good advice thing in shows wasn't real?

Or at least, not in a place like this.

I nibbled on my lip. That was fine. What would I have told him, anyway? That adulting was hard? So I was falling behind in my classes at college. Having second thoughts about whether I was actually cut out for my major, despite being only a year away from graduation and having known I wanted to be a vet since I was a kid?

And yeah, the stuff with the house was pretty stressful and it sucked having to collect rent from my roommates, especially when they were always late with it, but who could I complain to about that since they'd become my friends, too?

So, okay, it might have been a little bit nice to talk to someone about some of that, but I was pretty sure none of it fell under the category of the kind of advice bartenders generally gave out, anyway.

As if my gloomy thoughts were some kind of parental bat signal, my phone vibrated with an incoming message.

I pulled it out, then grimaced when I read it.

I'd texted them earlier today asking them to front some money to the house maintenance account so I could get someone to come check out the weird noises coming from the water heater. I wasn't really surprised that their answer was no, but it still made my stomach clench tight with anxiety.

So maybe I should get another drink? It might help?

Or maybe I should just go.

I sighed, shoving my phone back in my pocket, then spinning my empty glass in my hands. I didn't really think the guys would mind if I left since they were all otherwise occupied, but springing for an Uber all on my own instead of splitting it four ways felt irresponsible.

Before I could weigh the pros and cons, someone spun me around on the barstool.

"Owen! My man!" Tyler, one of my roommates, shouted in my face. "You're still sittin' over here?"

"Um, yes?" I said as he threw an arm around me, leaning against me so heavily that he almost knocked me right off the stool.

I shoved him off, and he grinned at me, swaying a little. "You're never gonna get laid if you don't get out there. If you don't wanna dance, at least come mingle!"

I shook my head a little frantically. "No, thank you."

He snort-laughed like I'd just said the funniest thing, then grabbed my arm, yanking me off the stool. "Come on, brother! I'll find you someone hot."

"Oh, um, I don't think I'm actually ready to sleep with anyone new yet," I said, pulling away from him in a bit of a panic.

He stumbled, then caught himself by grabbing my face in both his hands, squishing my cheeks together the way my late grandmother used to.

"Ty-wer?" I asked.

He stared at me drunk-solemnly. "You gotta get over her, man."

"Who, Hannah?"

"Yes, Hannah!" he shouted, thankfully releasing my face so he could flail his hands around dramatically. "You gotta get back out there, O! That's why you're here tonight! She dumped your ass! Block her number and move on!"

I blinked. "I don't think I really need to block her, though? I mean, we haven't really been in touch since we broke up."

He gave me a disappointed look, shaking his head. Then he grabbed my ass.

"Tyler!" I snapped, swatting at him before I realized he was just stealing my phone.

He waved it in my face. "Denial ain't just a river in Egypt, my man. I saw you."

"You saw me what?"

Tyler flung an arm out—thankfully not the one holding my phone—and pointed toward the other side of the bar. "I was right over there, getting my flirt on with this badass domin… domo… domino… you know, chick dressed in leather who looked like she'd get off on spanking me, and I saw you. Hannah messaged you." He shook my phone at me. "I saw this light up. Then you read her message and got all constipated-looking."

"Oh, that wasn't—" I started, about to explain that it hadn't been Hannah.

Tyler cut me off before I could.

"Block that bitch, O," he said, grabbing my cheeks again. "Seriously, she doesn't deserve you."

"Um, thanks?"

Even though he was wrong about me needing to block Hannah, it still made me feel kind of warm and fuzzy inside that he cared… unless that warm, fuzzy feeling was from the drinks?

Drinking the second one so fast definitely had me swaying on my feet.

"No prob," Tyler said, clapping me on the shoulder with a grin. "I've got your back." Then he waved my phone in front of my face again. "Unlock it for me."

I pushed his hand away before he took out my eye. "What? Why?"

Tyler leaned in, his alcohol-scented breath wafting over me. "Unlock your phone," he enunciated carefully. "And I'll do you a solid. Told you, O. I've got your back."

"Um, okay?" I was still confused, but maybe it would just be easier to go along with it.

I steadied his hand, then let the phone scan my face.

He snatched it back with a gleeful chortle, shoved the sleeve of his shirt up, then rapidly tapped something out on my screen.

I leaned closer, trying to see. "What are you doing?"

He thrust his arm out at me. "All for you, my man!"

A sloppily written phone number was scrawled over his skin in Sharpie.

"Whose phone number is that?" I asked, getting a sinking feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach.

Tyler gave me a slightly manic-looking grin. "The hot girl in leather I told you about!" He flapped a hand in the direction he'd pointed to before. "You know, the domino-matrix chick! She was a little scary, but maybe that's what you need after Hannah, right? A little kink to snap you out of your funk!"

My eyes went wide, and I started shaking my head. "I… you… that doesn't sound… I can't. Besides, she gave you her number."

"I know, I know," Tyler said, slinging his arm around my shoulders again. "I was trying to close the deal for myself, but the way you've been pining lately, you need the hook-up more than me."

I really, really didn't.

I opened and closed my mouth a few times before I managed to get anything out. "Did you seriously just message a total stranger from my phone?"

"She doesn't have to be a stranger for long," Tyler said, waggling his eyebrows at me.

Oh God. He'd really done it.

He squeezed me against him in a clumsy bro-hug as he went on. "But not just that, my man. I blocked Hannah for you, too. You're welcome."

"Oh my God," I wheezed, shoving him away and then snatching my phone back.

I didn't care about him blocking Hannah. That was whatever. But sexually harassing a stranger from my phone? Because this was Tyler. Drunk Tyler. So even though it hadn't been a dick pic or anything, I was pretty sure it wasn't going to be pretty.

I cringed inside as I closed out my contact list and opened my messages to see what he'd sent her, and… oh shit.

"Tyler," I hissed, feeling light-headed and a little bit nauseous. And this time, I was pretty sure it wasn't from those two drinks I'd had.

He slow blinked at me, still smiling. "Yeah? Did she reply yet?"

"I've been a bad, bad boy. Will you come spank me if I promise to call you Mommy and suck on your—" I started to read the text he'd sent through clenched teeth, but broke off to glare at him. "Are you serious right now?"

"Yeah!" He grinned even wider. "Like I said, she seemed like she'd be into that shit. And it'll be fun! I don't know how kinky you and Hannah were?—"

"Not even a little bit," I mumbled.

"Then you're due, O," he said, nodding at me solemnly. "Trust me, you don't know what you're missing until you hook up with a girl who kinda terrifies you."

"Oh my God. I can't even with you," I muttered, every word out of his mouth making me panic even more.

I fumbled my phone, almost dropping it as I tried to type out a decent apology text.

Tyler peered over my shoulder. "You already chatting with her? Get it, my man!"

"No, I'm not… you can't just… I don't want… ugh, Tyler," I sputtered in frustration, those two drinks I'd had impeding my ability to both yell at him and get my thumbs to work at the same time.

By the time I did finally manage to send off another message, I looked back up to find that Tyler had left me again, stumbling through the crowd in the direction of the dance floor where our other roommates, Ryan and Jacob, were currently grinding on a couple of blondes I thought I vaguely recognized from my organic chemistry class.

Tyler meant well.

I believed that. I really did.

But I still wanted to kill him.

I slumped back down on the bar stool and really wished I'd taken the bartender up on another drink so I'd have something to calm my nerves right now. He was down at the other end of the bar at the moment, though, so I had nothing to distract me as I stared at my phone and waited for the scary girl's reply.

When my eyeballs started to feel too dry from all the staring, I realized how dumb I was being. She probably either hadn't seen the messages yet, or had already blocked my number. A totally valid response, of course.

Unless she really was going to try to report me as some kind of creep?

I broke out in a cold sweat, pretty sure I was overreacting but still totally unable to stop myself from imagining one doomsday scenario after another where my life got flushed down the toilet all because of my drunken roommate's complete lack of boundaries.

I re-read the messages Tyler and I had sent, trying to put myself in Scary Girl's shoes.

FRIDAY 11:23 PM

I've been a bad, bad boy. Will you come spank me if I promise to call you Mommy and suck on your tits?

FRIDAY 11:26 PM

Hi! Please ignore that. I am SO sorry. It wasn't from me.

Okay, as apologies went, mine pretty much sucked, but I'd been panicking!

Maybe I should send another message and try to explain a little better?

Before I could decide if that was a good idea or another disaster in the making, she finally replied.

FRIDAY 11:31 PM

A bad, bad boy? Of course it wasn't you. ;)

Okay. Um, she didn't sound mad? That was good. But what did the winky face mean?

Did she not believe me?

FRIDAY 11:32 PM

But it really wasn't me.

FRIDAY 11:33 PM

And that's exactly what a boy who's been bad would say, now isn't it?

I gaped at my phone. Oh my God, she didn't believe me.

FRIDAY 11:34 PM

No!

I mean, I wouldn't know?

FRIDAY 11:34 PM

Is that a question?

FRIDAY 11:35 PM

No.

I just

Oh God. She had me so flustered that I hit send too soon. But also, I had no idea what I was trying to say. So maybe I should just admit that?

FRIDAY 11:36 PM

I don't know.

FRIDAY 11:37 PM

Because you're a good boy?

My knee started jiggling. This conversation felt like it was running away from me.

But I couldn't just leave her on read, right? Not when I was the one trying to apologize.

On the other hand, how was I supposed to reply to a question like that? Who even asked something like that?

I typed and deleted some really dumb-sounding things, then finally just went with the truth.

FRIDAY 11:40 PM

I try to be.

She sent back a smiley face. And then?—

FRIDAY 11:41 PM

That's all you can do. I'm proud of you for trying.

I blushed.

Oh God, I was legitimately pathetic. A few words of praise from a stranger—a scary one, according to Tyler—and I was blushing?

At least she'd never know.

FRIDAY 11:42 PM

Thank you.

Wait, had she been being sarcastic?

Shame curdled my stomach, because probably, yeah. Which would have been nice to realize before thanking her.

But then my phone pinged with another reply, and I was back to blushing again.

FRIDAY 11:42 PM

See? So polite. You really are a good boy. ;)

I grinned at my phone stupidly for a minute before my brain finally registered the winky face. The second winky face she'd sent.

"Oh shit," I breathed out, my grin dropping away. I was no expert at flirting—the only girls I'd ever dated had asked me out—but that… that looked a lot like flirting. With a girl Tyler said would terrify me in the bedroom. One who I may or may not have just given the wrong impression about myself to.

I swallowed hard, then quickly typed out another message.

FRIDAY 11:43 PM

I'm not hitting on you!

Oh wait. Maybe that sounded rude?

FRIDAY 11:44 PM

I just mean that I really was just trying to apologize for that first text, not that someone wouldn't want to hit on you. Or like, flirt. Just not me. I'm not flirting here. I definitely wouldn't do that.

Only because I don't know you, though!

Well, also because she was scary, but I couldn't say that.

FRIDAY 11:45 PM

I'm sure lots of guys do want to flirt with you, though.

Tyler obviously did!

I'm sorry. I'll shut up now.

I squeezed my eyes closed, then thunked my head down on the bar.

Oh. My. God. I was pretty sure I'd just made it worse, and she'd just… just let me.

Although maybe that was for the best? Maybe she had finally blocked me, somewhere in the middle of all that.

But no. When I finally got the guts to peek at my phone again, she was typing.

I cringed, pretty sure I didn't want to read whatever she was about to send.

FRIDAY 11:48 PM

Who's Tyler?

I stared. Then laughed. Then scrubbed a hand over my face.

Okay. Right. I'd just started blowing up her phone, and she'd been great about it, but she actually had no clue what was going on, did she? She was just a nice person. Or maybe a bored one?

Either way, I definitely needed to explain.

FRIDAY 11:49 PM

Tyler is my roommate. You gave him your number tonight, remember? The tall ginger? At the club? You wrote it on his arm? Anyway, he's the one who sent you that first message, but it was from my phone because… well, that's not important, but I felt bad for, like, how it probably came across? That's not really how I talk to girls.

I mean, women!!! (Sorry.)

So, um, anyway… here we are.

It took a minute for those ones to show read, but finally they did.

And then it took her another minute to reply.

FRIDAY 11:52 PM

Ok, first, you're adorable, sweetheart. But second, that wasn't me.

I blinked. What?

FRIDAY 11:53 PM

You didn't give Tyler your number tonight?

FRIDAY 11:53 PM

I did not. :)

FRIDAY 11:54 PM

But then how did he get it?

She sent back a string of laughing emojis before actually replying.

FRIDAY 11:55 PM

You said your friend got someone's number at a club…

FRIDAY 11:55 PM

???

FRIDAY 11:56 PM

If alcohol was involved, she may have... written it down wrong. Accidentally or on purpose. ;)

What? Well, that would be rude. Did she seriously think that had happened? Because even if I did kind of want to strangle Tyler for getting me into all this, I was honestly a little offended on his behalf if his scary dominatrix had lied to him like that. And in sharpie.

Another text came through.

FRIDAY 11:57 PM

Or maybe your friend just made a mistake when he put the number into your phone. :)

I blinked. Yeah, that could have happened. And it was definitely better than the first option.

Or… she could be lying right now? Like, it really was her, but now she wanted to get out of hooking up with him?

FRIDAY 11:58 PM

Are you sure you're not really you?

I got back more laughing emojis, and I blamed the fact that I was still feeling pretty tipsy for how long it took me to realize why she was laughing this time.

Oh God, she must have thought I was a total idiot.

SATURDAY 12:01 AM

I mean, Tyler's you! You're not her?

You're not Tyler's girl? Wearing all the leather?

Wait, I don't mean Tyler's! Not, like, you belong to him. But you're not the one he was hitting on?

More laughing emojis, followed by?—

SATURDAY 12:02 AM

Yes, sweetheart. I'm sure.

SATURDAY 12:02 AM

But… REALLY sure?

SATURDAY 12:03 AM

Really sure. ;)

There was another one of those winky emojis. And now she was calling me "sweetheart," too? Before I could decide how I felt about that, especially after I'd just told her that I wasn't flirting, she sent another one.

SATURDAY 12:04 AM

Trust me, if your friend Tyler had asked me to spank him tonight, he would have called me Daddy, not Mommy… and it definitely wouldn't have been my "tits" he'd be promising to suck on.

I gasped and dropped my phone. Then snatched it right back up and read the message a second time. And then let out an embarrassingly high-pitched squeal when the bartender startled the crap out of me by suddenly appearing out of nowhere to collect my empty glass.

"Want another one?" he shouted over the music.

"Um…"

He must have taken my deer-in-the-headlights impression as a yes, because not even a second later, he slid a full glass across the bar to me.

I mumbled a thank you, cringing inside at the tab I must be running up. That was definitely not going to help my tight budget.

But then I decided I was actually grateful he'd taken the decision out of my hands, because yeah. I kind of did want another drink. Maybe even needed one given that it took me re-reading the scary girl's last message three more times before finally wrapping my head around what it meant.

Shedidn't want to be called Daddy.

Because the wrong number Tyler had put in my phone belonged to a guy.

A guy who kept calling me sweetheart and talked about sucking on…

My stomach twisted up, and I put my phone face down as I squirmed on the bar stool, feeling really freaking weird about the whole thing now. I mean, it was good that I hadn't accidentally been sexually harassing some scary dominatrix, and I couldn't even fault her—I mean, him—for sort of maybe sexually harassing me back, since I'd started it?

Well, Tyler had.

And he—"Daddy," not Tyler—hadn't so much been sexually harassing me, I guessed, as just explaining how I'd gotten it all wrong. But what I wasn't sure about was whether all of that was better or worse than the mess I'd originally thought Tyler had gotten me into.

I picked up my phone and re-read the whole conversation again, then took a sip of my new drink—a huge one that made me choke, then cough so hard tears leaked out of my eyes—before finally deciding on… better.

Yep, it was definitely better this way, because weird or not, at least the knot I'd had in my stomach after reading Tyler's original text was gone.

I mean, sure, "Daddy" was a guy—a guy who was a stranger and seemed kind of flirty, but also actually really nice—but even though that meant he was probably gay and I definitely wasn't, I'd still take a gay Daddy telling me he was proud of me for being a good boy over offending a terrifying dominatrix in leather.

I finished off my new drink and then realized I'd left that last message on read for long enough that I was officially the asshole now. Not that it probably mattered in the long run since we didn't actually know each other, but it still felt rude. Especially since Gay Daddy had been so great about the whole thing.

Like, actually kind of super great. A little bit funny, a whole lot patient, and really, really nice even if it was in a way that made me feel sort of weird and squirmy inside.

I should at least let him know that, right? It would only be polite, and he did seem to like it when I was polite.

Oh, but first, I should apologize again—apologize to him, since the first apology had been meant for not-him.

SATURDAY 12:15 AM

Ok, um, "Daddy"… sorry for misgendering you.

Well, that was Tyler, actually, and he didn't mean it since, you know.

I stared at my phone hard, but he wasn't reading my messages. And then I realized it sounded like I was making excuses.

"Shit," I muttered, typing fast. I had to fix that before he did read them.

SATURDAY 12:17 AM

But I'm still sorry! I wasn't trying to put it all on Tyler. You've got my apology, too.

Wait, not "too." Tyler never apologized at all. But I am. This is my apology. I'm really sorry about tonight. Not just the misgendering, but about all of this. So… I'm sorry?

I mean, not a question.

I *am* sorry.

Oh God. What was wrong with me?

But then they all switched to read and… he didn't reply.

I panicked.

SATURDAY 12:20 AM

I know I already said that I was sorry in the first place, but I just mean that now I'm extra sorry for bothering you tonight, since you're you and not… who I thought I was bothering? So I didn't want to just leave it weird between us, not that maybe you care? But I really want you to know that I'm sorry to you, not her.

"Her" being Tyler's, um…

Shoot. What did I call her? Scary dominatrix would sound rude.

SATURDAY 12:21 AM

The girl he was flirting with.

Not that I wouldn't have been sorry to her, too! I am!

Or I would be? But maybe I don't have to be now? Because she never got Tyler's message.

They all flipped to read as soon as I sent them, and I had no idea if that was because he was reading them and ignoring me now, or he'd walked away with his chat app open, or… or what. But the longer it went on with no reply the more panicky I felt as I tried to find the right way to both explain and apologize at the same time.

Exp…ologize?

Apologi…ain?

Except maybe it wasn't about finding the right way to do it, but about how I'd just done too much of it. Bothered him even more, all while trying to say how sorry I was for bothering him in the first place.

I whimpered, glad the music was so loud that no one but me would ever have to know.

And then, finally, Gay Daddy answered. He sent another string of laughing emojis, followed by?—

SATURDAY 12:28 AM

Calm down, sweetheart. None of this has been a bother. You're fine.

I relaxed, smiling a little as the tight knot in my stomach unraveled all at once. I mean, the way he kept calling me sweetheart still felt a little… weird, but gah. He was just so nice about it all.

SATURDAY 12:28 AM

Ok. Thank you.

SATURDAY 12:29 AM

Again with the manners. You really are a good boy. :)

SATURDAY 12:29 AM

Thank you.

Again.

Okay, now I was maybe back to harassing him. It probably (definitely) wasn't cool to apologize for bothering him and then… then keep bothering him like this.

Especially because he was probably busy.

Or sleeping?

Trying to sleep.

Because if he wanted to be called "Daddy" then he was probably old, and didn't old people consider midnight kind of late? And here I was, blowing up his phone and… and clinging.

And he wasn't even reading my messages anymore.

I swallowed hard. Looked again. The latest two were still sitting on unread.

Maybe if I bought another drink, the bartender would talk to me after all? Because at least with him, it was his job. This guy, "Daddy," hadn't signed up for any of this.

SATURDAY 12:34 AM

Sorry I keep apologizing and thanking you. I mean, I'm not sorry I did both of those things, but you probably don't want to keep hearing them so… sorry.

For the last time . :)

And… I'll stop now.

I'm stopping, for real.

I waited a second, but there was still nothing. So… okay.

SATURDAY 12:37 AM

Um… bye?

I started to type out another one, telling him I didn't mean that as a question, it was just a habit to use question marks when I wasn't really sure about stuff, but then I caught myself and stopped. Really stopped. The way I'd promised him I would.

"Oh my God," I whispered, putting my phone down—face down, just to avoid temptation.

And… seriously? Temptation? What did that even mean?

What was wrong with me right now?

My cheeks felt hot, although maybe that was just because I wasn't used to drinking.

It was just that the way he called me a good boy made me feel just as squirmy as those sweethearts did, both hitting my people-pleasing buttons in a way that made me want to chase after more of them even though…

Well, even though he was clearly done.

Which was maybe for the best.

After all, I'd told him I wasn't flirting, but if I kept spamming him then it might seem like I'd lied, since it still kind of felt like he'd been flirting. But since I wasn't even gay…

Wait, had he ever actually said he was gay?

I'd just assumed.

But if he was, well… yeah. Then it was definitely for the best that it was over now, before anyone got confused.