Chapter 9

I'd checked on the beagle three times and knew she was just fine, so there was no point getting out of Daddy's super comfortable guest bed to check on her a fourth time, just because I couldn't sleep.

Which was so dumb.

I was tired.

And I had no reason at all to feel so devastated inside, just because Daddy—um, North, which is what I'd finally found out was his actual name, which was weird but also super cool? Anyway, North had basically been on a date tonight with some other boy.

Well, not a date.

A sex date?

"Oh my God," I groaned, grabbing one of the extra pillows and shoving it over my face. I had to stop thinking about this.

It wasn't even any of my business.

Also, some other boy? That made it sound like I was, well, that kind of boy, too. And even if I'd looked at that gay Daddy porn the one time?—

Okay. More than just once.

Maybe every night this week.

Still, that didn't mean I was suddenly gay, so I had no reason at all to care about who Daddy—um, who North—was hooking up with that wasn't me.

Because of course it wasn't me.

Maybe it could have been if I was gay, and he wasn't him and I wasn't me, but I'd seen him now. And, unfortunately, I'd also seen me plenty of times. And there wouldn't even be a point in me turning gay—not that that was probably a thing?—because as wonderful and nice and thoughtful and caring as he always was, he was also so hot that saying he was out of my league was…

Well, it was true, but it wasn't true enough.

Anyone who looked likehe did on top of having his amazing personality, and also went to a kinky sex club all the time where there were tons of other gay guys who already knew all about kinky gay sex would definitely never in a million years be interested in someone like me that way.

Which was obviously one hundred percent, completely and totally fine.

I hugged the pillow against my head and sniffled, then told myself yet again to stop being such a big baby when there was literally no reason. North was the nicest. And I should just go to sleep already.

But just like every other time I'd told myself that, I still couldn't.

I rolled over, peeking down at the little beagle.

I wished I could cuddle her. No, I wished I could cuddle Da—North.

Or, I mean, hug him again.

Or get hugged by him. Because that had been really nice. And maybe we could still do some of that, even after things went back to normal between us?

Wouldthings go back to normal? Like, what would we do with the dog if we could never find her owners? Would he want to keep her? And if he did, would he let me visit, or ever want to hang out, or would we just go back to only texting each other?

My chest started to ache, and I hugged the pillow against it even tighter, dropping one hand down to rest my fingers on the dog's fur and wishing my eyes didn't sting so hard.

Maybe I should just leave. Call an Uber and go home tonight after all.

Not that I wanted to leave the little beagle, but she was sleeping just fine and I… I guessed I was a big baby. And apparently, I was a little bit gay, too. And now that I'd sort of figured that out and met Dadd—uh, North in person, it hurt a little to know that I couldn't have the whole fairytale with him.

Okay, it hurt a lot.

Same with calling him Daddy now that he'd explained a bit more about what that really meant to him in the kinky sex club way, and that other boys at that club called him Daddy, too.

The dog snuffled in her sleep, and I swiped my face dry, then leaned over the edge a little further to make sure she was okay.

I thought she was?

But I wasn't entirely sure, so I stretched up and turned on the little lamp on the nightstand so I could see her better.

Okay, she looked fine. And I knew North would take good care of her because he was really, really good at that. He didn't actually need me here, even though I'd talked him into letting me come over by promising to help watch her tonight.

That had been a lie. I hadn't even admitted it to myself at the time because I didn't think I'd realized it? But I did now. I'd just wanted to be close to him, but maybe if I went back to my place tonight instead of wearing the oversized-on-me t-shirt he'd given me to sleep in, the one that smelled just like him, and tossing and turning in his bed?—

I meant, the guest bed.

Um, yeah. Maybe if I left, I'd be able to get my head on straight and remember how thankful I was to even know him. Because that had to be better than lying here and pining for things that I hadn't even realized I wanted until I actually met him, right?

"Right," I whispered, my throat tight as I stared down at the sleeping beagle. "But don't worry, girl. I'll still come check on you. Or, like, ask him how you're doing if he doesn't want me to come back over."

A soft knock sounded on the door, sending my heart right up into my throat as I whipped around and sat up, staring at it.

"Owen?"

"Um, yeah?"

"I saw the light on. Is everything okay?"

I nodded, then blushed at my own stupidity. He couldn't see me, obviously.

I cleared my throat. "Um, yeah. Yes, Da—North. I'm fine. We're fine."

This was the part where I should add that I was going to head home after all, but the words stuck in my throat, my heart beating so fast I almost felt dizzy.

Was he still there?

I hadn't heard him walk away.

Should I say something else?'

But finally, he did. "Baby, can I come in for a minute?"

"Yes!"

Oh God. I was really, really hoping I hadn't sounded too eager.

"Um, is everything okay with you?" I asked as soon as the door swung open, realizing that I wasn't actually sure why he'd wanted to come in. "Did, um, did you need me to leave?"

I'd been planning to. I'd basically talked myself into it. But now the idea of him saying yes to that made my chest hurt in a whole new way.

I hugged the pillow against myself even tighter, and North frowned.

"No. Of course not. Is it okay if I come sit on the bed with you?"

I nodded, worrying my lip between my teeth as he came closer. He'd changed into a pair of soft-looking sleep pants that were plaid in all different shades of blue and green, and they made his eyes pop until I almost felt like I was drowning in them.

Also? He had no shirt on… so I kind of had to drown in his eyes. Um, I mean, look at them. Because otherwise I'd, um, look at other things. Which was… maybe not okay?

I had no idea.

But I did know that seeing him shirtless made me realize that I was wrong about being a little bit gay. I was pretty sure that I was actually all the way gay.

I swallowed hard, trying to think of something, anything else. Oh, shoot. Hannah. Hopefully she wouldn't feel bad if she ever found out?

North's lips twitched. "Something on your mind, baby boy?"

"My ex-girlfriend," I admitted.

"Ah, okay," he said, running his fingers through his head as he lost that little hint of a smile. Then he sighed and sat down on the bed next to me. "I wanted to…" His voice trailed off, and for the first time since I'd first seen him in person, he looked a little unsure. Then he shook his head and smiled at me. "I'm sorry. You should get your sleep."

"No!" I blurted, twisting the edge of the pillow between my fingers. "Tell me. Please? I can do whatever it is that you wanted, I promise."

He laughed, so that was good? Then he gave me a fond smile that made me feel all kinds of warm inside.

"I just… didn't like how we left things. When I saw you were awake, I wanted to make them right, but I'll be honest, I'm not sure what that would look like."

"You didn't do anything wrong," I said quickly. Then wondered if I'd misunderstood. "Um, did I?"

"No," he said, cupping my face. "Not ever. If you were my boy?—"

My breath hitched, my heart starting to race, and he must have noticed, because he stopped talking, cocking his head to the side as he gave me a long, deep look, like he was trying to see right down to my soul.

"If you were my boy," he repeated after a moment, speaking kind of slowly and carefully as he watched me. "I think I'd make a rule about talking things out and being honest with each other, because when you left the kitchen, you said you were fine, but that didn't feel true."

Embarrassment burns through me like wildfire. He knew? That I was jealous of those kink-club boys he'd been planning on spending tonight with?

"But I don't feel like it's my place to set those kinds of rules for you," he went on, still watching me so intently that it felt like I couldn't move.

No, like I didn't want to.

I wanted him to see me. To know me. To be wide open to him and… and have him be happy with what he found once he looked inside.

"Um, but you do set rules for me?" I reminded him, trying to focus on what he'd actually said instead of all the big feelings rushing through my heart. "I don't mind. I mean, I like it, Da?—"

I blushed, closing my mouth quickly, before I said it again.

He frowned. "You don't want to call me Daddy anymore?"

I did. I so did.

"Is, um, is that a new rule? The thing about talking things out and being honest with each other?"

He hesitated for a minute, but finally nodded, and relief rushed through me. Not that I wasn't still embarrassed to admit what I was feeling, but at the same time, everything was easier, everything was better, when he gave me rules like that.

It was like they lifted a weight off me and opened me up inside, too. So there was more room to breathe, and less pressure to worry about anything. The right thing to do was crystal clear, just follow the rules, and all I had to do was… do it.

"I do like calling you Daddy." I looked down at the dog so I didn't have to watch him watch me confess these things. "I like how you came when I needed you, and the way you take care of me, and, um, and…"

Oh God. I sniffled.

"And I like it when you call me things," I said quickly, hoping he hadn't heard the sniffle. "Baby and sweetheart and all that. But I, um, I don't really like knowing that you call the other boys all those things, too. The real boys. At your club." I peeked up at him, then got caught by his eyes again as I whispered the last, most selfish part, "And I don't think I can keep calling you Daddy now that I know it's not just for me."

North's eyes really were magic, because I couldn't look away even though I could feel how hot my cheeks were and a part of me couldn't hardly believe I'd said all that out loud.

Except… I could believe it, because even when my heart ached, it also knew that I could always, always trust him with its secrets. Even if he never lov—um, felt like I did, I knew it because he'd proven it, bit by bit, every day.

"It is just for you," he said, giving me a soft smile and cupping my cheek. "I figured that out tonight before you messaged me. I did go to the club because I wanted something, uh, physical… something I couldn't have with you, but then realized I didn't?—"

He paused and cleared his throat, blinking fast.

"You didn't, um, want sex?"

"Oh, sweetheart," he said, laughing as all the weird, awkward tension between us just… poofed it away. Like magic. "I did want sex." He grinned at me, his fingers stroking my face. Then his expression turned serious. "But I didn't want sex as much as I wanted to be your Daddy. Not just a Daddy, but yours, Owen."

My heart started to pound hard, and he pulled his hand away from my face and held up his bare wrist, the green band that felt like it had broken my heart nowhere to be seen.

"I'd decided to switch out my bracelet just before I heard from you, because scening with any of the boys there wouldn't have been fair to them, and it wouldn't have been fair to me."

"Why not?" I whispered.

He smiled at me. Not the wide grin from a moment ago when I'd made him laugh, but something both softer and hotter that had me really, really glad I was still clutching the pillow, because having him look at me like that was, uh…

Well, like I said, I was glad I had the pillow.

I was also pretty sure my dick had just gotten the memo about the gay epiphany I'd had a few minutes ago.

"It wouldn't have been fair," Daddy said, cupping my face again, "because my heart was already somewhere else."

Me. I was pretty sure he meant it was with me.

And then I was all the way sure when he stared at me for another minute, then asked, "Can I kiss you, baby boy?"

"Yes?"

He huffed out a quiet laugh. "Is that a question?"

I'd already told myself all the reasons it was impossible for him to want me back, but he did anyway, and discovering that made something hot and fierce and kind of wonderful burst to life inside me.

I tossed aside the pillow and scrambled right onto his lap, clinging like a baby monkey.

"No, Daddy. It wasn't a question," I said breathlessly. "Please kiss me."

And then he did, wrapping his arms around me and cradling the back of my head as he tipped my face up to the perfect angle and brushed his lips over mine.

Once.

Twice.

And then, on the third pass, he kissed me, groaning into my mouth as he licked his way inside and teaching me that I'd never done it properly before. Kissing had never made me feel both claimed and cherished at the same time. It had never been… perfect.

Because it had never been with him.