Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

LUKE

Driving Timothy home is difficult. I want nothing more than to bring him into my bedroom and show him just what that staring does to me. The look in his eyes was pure heat. He gave himself away with a glance, and I ate every second of it up.

But we need to have more of a talk. We need to sit down, hash a plan out together. One where there's not quite such a power imbalance.

For goodness’ sake, he thought I had forced Jake to lower his job responsibilities. Granted, I did suggest he do less, but it was purely from the standpoint of his health, not because I think he's incompetent.

And Jake, once he stopped to think about it, realized how wrong he was to put so much on his friend. Going into a relationship on the back of a conversation in which I'm made to look like I'm interfering isn't how I want things to go.

I'm thankful when I get the text from Timothy letting me know that the realtor can see me tonight. It's been fourteen hours since I've seen him. I'm already about to come out of my skin. I didn't know I could feel like this about someone. Didn't realize how addicted I've become to him in such a very short amount of time.

It all comes down to who he is as a person and what I believe is building between us. Timothy is sweet and submissive. He's kind. Never one to speak out even when someone does him wrong.

The most sass I'd seen from him was when he came to confront me last night. Even then, there was a level of sweetness to it that had me fighting back a grin all night. I lost the fight more than once. Overall, I kept my cool.

When the end of practice rolls around, I'm the first guy out of the locker room for once. The players laugh, each calling out to me about if I have a hot date or big plans. I wave them off, especially when Chavez starts thrusting his hips. Those assholes.

Timothy waits at the front doors for me. He's staring down at his phone, a frown marring his gorgeous face.

"What's wrong, honeybee?" I say softly as I approach.

He whips his head my way. "Nothing," he says, smoothing out the frustration I saw on the surface. He's got his practiced smile on. I'm not a fan of it. I know it's what he does for work and such when Jake is being out of hand, but I don't want us to be that way.

I only want authentic, real emotions from him. Stepping closer, I press us together. “I don't think it's nothing. I think something is bothering you, and I'd like to know what."

His body is hot against mine, his muscles locked into place. It's not fear in his eyes. No, this is the same look he gave me when I stood in front of him in a threadbare towel soaking wet from my shower.

“Someone posted on the website I use. It was not good. I'm a bit worried about them.”

I nod to the phone. "Can you show me?"

He winces, then shakes his head. "Not really. It's a private server for certain people. It would betray their trust if I showed you."

I pause to think of what could have made him react this way. It's clearly something he doesn't want me to know, or that I already know, and he isn't aware of. I've gobbled up every ounce of information I can about Timothy, whether it be from Jake or the rest of the team.

Hell, just watching him gives me tons of info every day. Each intricate detail of him is ingrained in my brain at this point.

But this is different.

This is empathy towards someone else. A friend.

And damn it if I don't want to help.

“What if you read it to me instead? Just skip the parts that you need to. Keep it anonymous.”

He tilts his head to the side, contemplating it for a moment. Then he agrees.

I listen carefully as he details the post. It's about a young man who was living at home, and his parents found certain items. They decided to kick him out, which is unfortunate. According to Timothy, he is a legal adult, but he has difficulty maintaining jobs due to what he prefers to call quirks.

I shove my hands in my pockets. “I know we're doing this anonymously, but is this person local? Could we help them find something here in Bellport?”

Timothy shrugs. “To be honest, I'm not sure where they are. I could send them a private message to find out. It's actually a good idea. They need some encouragement anyway.”

As he goes back to the message, his eyes widen.

“Oh crap, look at the time. We have to get going or Donna will be upset with us.”

I nearly snort. Donna is such a distinct name. It reminds me of the workout videos my mother used to do. I was the only person who was ever allowed to see her do those moves because a lady of her standing could not do such in front of others.

But for me, she would put on her old leg warmers and stretchy Lycra and dress me much the same. Together, we would dance around in her room for thirty minutes or so while Dad was gone. It was one of the few times we weren't held to standards that felt damn near impossible to keep.

I follow Timothy out to my truck. He waits like a good boy while I get him strapped in. He's yet to make a comment about it, which pleases me to no end. I love that he's allowing me to take care of him without complaint.

The little smile and wiggle he does when I get behind the driver's wheel makes me think he enjoys it. I'll keep watching to be sure.

In the short drive it takes to meet Donna at the first house she has for us, Timothy fills me in more about his online friend. He says they're usually so upbeat and chipper.

“I enjoy talking to them because we like some of the same things. And honestly, not many people in my real life understand it. Makes things harder, you know?”

I do know so I just nod along, not wanting to interrupt him.

In my life, it was hockey. When you reach a certain level, people expect things from you. Friendships become vain and fake. Relationships can be the same. And my parents were a split. Mom loved to support me and believed in everything I did while Dad couldn't have cared less. Since I didn't take on the family business, I was nothing but a waste to him.

So yeah, I get what he's saying. Making friends and keeping them can be hard, especially when you don't know everyone's motives or when you're a Little in hiding like my boy is.

When we pull up to the house, Donna is waiting on the porch with a clipboard in her arms. She looks like a firecracker of a woman. I already know that I'll probably be in a house by the end of the day if she has any say in it.

Timothy waits for me to let him out. I don't miss the raised brows Donna throws his way. He gives her a slight shake of the head, then introduces us.

“This is Luke Swift, the new coach of the Bears. Luke, this is Donna, our friendly Bellport real estate agent. There are others here, but no one quite like Donna. She handles all the Bellport family properties as well.”

Donna waves her hand at him in a dismissive way but there's a sparkle in her eye. It speaks to the pride she has at serving the family who the city is named after.

“I love those Bellports. They're a fun bunch. It's nothing to help a friend of theirs, or even you, Timothy. You know you're practically family to them, right? Jake adores you.”

Timothy blushes as he dips his head. "Jake’s something else,” he admits.

Donna giggles. "Yes, he is a sweetie. Been that way was since he was in diapers. Now then, enough about the Bellports. Let's talk about houses. Timothy gave me a bit of an idea of what you might be looking for. I've got five options for you.”

My eyes widen. Five? It's much more than I thought she would have. I figured two, maybe three. In a city this size, it's hard to tell where everything is. The downtown area is jam-packed; however, the further you get out, the farther everything spreads. Neighborhoods start in the more rural areas. I haven’t explored the majority of it. I strictly stick to the Bellport city limits.

At least I think there are city limits. I could be wrong.

Downtown and the stadium is where I stick to the most.

“I already have ideas of what you'll like best, but I'm committed to showing you all five unless something just speaks to you. Okay, gentlemen?”

Timothy nods, his body coming to attention. He's in assistant mode. I can see it. It's the same thing he does with Jake. I push aside any thoughts I have about that because it will only frustrate me.

Instead, I let him take in the space first as he follows Donna. I trail at the end of our trio, watching Timothy more than I'm looking at the space. His eyes sweep over everything carefully, like he wants to catalog it all. There's no smile on his lips, though. No light in his eyes. I don’t know if it's because he's keeping himself impartial or because he really doesn't like it.

And I have to know, because at the end of the day, I'm hoping that this house is a place he'll frequent. Somewhere he'll feel comfortable enough to let down the walls he's got around him so I can be a part of his life. So I can be his Daddy.

“What do you think?” I ask him as Donna takes a call a few minutes into the tour. She promises to be back in just a minute, so I know I don't have much time.

Timothy glances around again, avoiding my eye contact. “I think it's a nice place. It's got plenty of rooms. You could host here if you wanted to. There's nothing about it that screams problematic to me, and everything is in working order. Donna doesn't show off properties that don't pass her test.”

I rock back on my heels. “That's all great information, but what do you think of the house? If you were the one spending your money on it, how does it make you feel? I'm trying to get a vibe, but I'm a little blocked myself.”

He gives me a look that tells me he knows this is utter bullshit. He humors me anyway.

“I would say this place is okay. There are some things I'm not a big fan of. At the end of the day, if you love it, you love it, right?”

He has no clue how right he is. I'm already sinking into the hold he has on me. Knowing he doesn't like this place is an automatic no. He's got to be a hundred percent invested or there's no chance.

When Donna comes back, I immediately tell her that this isn't the one. She takes my request with a grain of salt. Soon, we're on to house number two.

At this one, I stop Timothy at the door. “Can you help me with the vibes thing again? I'd love to hear your first reactions out loud, if you don't mind. It's been a long day. My brain is not fully processing.”

I use any excuse I can think of to get him to share what he's feeling. My boy nods, then steps inside.

I give Donna a look, one that she rightly interprets. Instead of going into her spiel about the house and its features, she stands to the side to let us move around.

Timothy's voice echoes through the cavernous space. “The ceilings are really tall," he says, "which is nice.” There's a pause before he turns. “And the windows are gorgeous. That view, right?”

I take in the backyard that looks like it disappears into a wilderness setting with trees and overgrown woods in the distance.

“There's plenty of room to build or add as you'd like.”

He continues much this way with every room we go into, but I'm still hung up on the ceilings. Something about the way he said it rubs me wrong. When we're back in the living room area, I stop him.

"You don't like the ceilings, do you?"

He chokes out a fake sort of laugh. “What kind of question is that?”

I pull him close, not caring that Donna's watching the entire exchange. My hope is that we'll one day be together as a couple and everyone in town will know who he is and what he means to me. Donna can be the first to get the scoop for all I care.

“I want to know because you said you would tell me your opinion, and the way you talked about the ceilings indicated something about them was bothersome. I'd like to know. Maybe it would bother me too.”

He sighs deeply. “If you must know, I just think that they're impractical. Christmas is coming up. How would you ever decorate the ceilings this high? You would need one of those thingamajigs that lifts up and makes the whirring noise.”

I snort at his description of commercial construction equipment.

“So it needs to be easily accessed for Christmas decorations. Lower ceilings. You know, that makes sense,” I admit as I survey the space.

He smiles at my acknowledgement of his points. There's no sarcasm or mocking in my tone. It's a genuine thing that people should think of when looking for a home.

Houses three and four are both out of commission fairly early on as well. One has just enough space for me and a couple of spare bedrooms. Since it’s unsuitable for hosting parties, I can't imagine it being my home. If I decide to have kids one day, I need to know that I have the room. Not to mention the little surprise I have in my head that I want to see about coordinating. I need an entire room for it and those houses just wouldn't do.

The fourth is ‘just icky’ according to Timothy. Something about the place doesn't sit right with him. I make a joke that it's probably haunted, to which he freaks out a little bit, and we make a quick exit.

Now sitting outside of house five, I wonder if I shouldn’t have jinxed myself at the beginning of the evening. It's late, way past dinnertime, and I want nothing more than to steal my boy away so I can feed him.

For her part, Donna is patient as ever. She climbs out of her car, waving to the house. “She's beautiful, isn't she?”

I nod, my gaze immediately stuck on the beauty of the outside. It's different from the others. More similar to the cottage I'm in now, or rather what the cottage would have been like when it was first built. It's big. Something my mother would probably call a mini mansion just to humor and poke fun at me. But not so big that it's outlandish.

From the outside, I can already tell that it would fit the team comfortably. If it has as many bedrooms as I think it does, we might have a winner.

Of course, it has to pass the Timothy test as well. When I look at my boy for his reaction, I see tears brimming in his eyes.

“What's wrong, honeybee?” I whisper in his ear as I stand behind him.

He shakes his head. “Nothing. It's just…”

I look at the house again and then back at him. “Do you know this place?”

With a nod, he tells me the words that lock in the fact that this house is going to be mine. “This was the house I used to dream about living in when I was younger. I didn't even know it was for sale. I've been too caught up with things. It's even on my Pinterest board.”

He whips out his phone and shows me. A picture of this house is labeled on a page titled “Dreams come true.” While holding the phone, I swipe over a few more of the ideas, locking them into my memory to access later. He doesn't realize he's just given me the keys to the kingdom. Now that I know how to find out more, I'm going to be eager to fulfill his every wish.

“Let's go look inside, shall we?” Donna says, grabbing our attention. There's a knowing grin on her features. Whether she knew this was Timothy's dream house or not, she put it on the list. I have a feeling this is the one she was referencing when she mentioned there would be a particular home I'd love most.

Either way, she's done her due diligence.

The inside is just as beautiful as the outside. The second Timothy crosses the threshold, he's rattling off ideas about design elements and pieces that would look great. He talks about hosting parties and how everyone could mingle together in the rooms. He has color schemes already in mind. It's as if his mind has gone haywire with the options now that he's found a place he really loves.

My smile is so wide my jaw aches. I look at Donna, whom I've shifted beside while he wanders around the downstairs. “Put an offer in,” I tell her.

“Will do.”

We wrap up the rest of the tour in the backyard. Donna walks through the front of the house, letting us know to lock up after we leave. She has no worries about heading out given the neighborhood and that I've decided to purchase it. Besides, I think she knows we need a minute alone. I could tell from the way she looks from Timothy to me that she knows something is up.

I haven't made a move yet, despite wanting to. All my attraction has felt one sided. Not because he’s not attracted to me. I have no doubt he is. It’s more that he refuses to give any indication he wants more.

I'm thankful for the moment I hear her car pull away. It's quiet enough outside that every little chirp of a cricket, every little echo of tires on gravel, is heard.

It means I also hear the way Timothy’s breathing picks up when he realizes we’re alone. It sounds like he's been running for hours, but when he turns to look at me, there's pure excitement in his eyes.

“This place is amazing, Luke. You’re so lucky to have it.”

I want to tell him then, to let him know that it could be his as well. That I'm getting this house because of him and his dream for it. That I want to live a life out here with him.

The only reason I don’t is because I worry it would scare him away. We barely know each other. I've been at the job for just a few weeks shortly before the season started. Now I'm buying houses and making declarations of feelings.

It'd be too suspicious.

Also, I'm still not sure what Timothy will think when he finds out I'm a Daddy. It would be great if he accepts it right away. He would tell me about his little side, then we could work together to see if we're compatible. Or it could be a disaster, and he tells me we don't fit at all.

I've known Daddies who've gone through that. They've met a boy, and everything seems perfect, but the minute they're in little mode, they just clash.

My big turnoff is that I'm not a fan of brats. They've never been my thing. I'm not a brat tamer, so it's honestly just easier on me if I don't even get into a relationship with one.

And while I don't think Timothy is one, what if he was? Would I be able to put aside my instincts and preferences to be with him just because of the other feelings I have? Maybe. But how long before that changes or resentment forms? What if I'm not enough Daddy for him, and he wants something completely different?

It's a big gamble expressing your feelings, especially with people you have to see over and over and over again.

I'll be brave eventually. I just need to get my head on straight first. Once I have a better grasp of things, maybe then we can talk about the future.

When we leave, I ask Timothy if he would like to come back to my place to eat. I have this urge to feed him. Despite knowing it's not the best idea, I make the request. He agrees without any hesitation.

Half an hour later, we've got food spread across my kitchen counter. My boy sits on top of the worn surface, his mouth full of French fries as he giggles. I tickle his sides, then stop to put on my stern Daddy face.

“You have to be careful or you'll choke.”

He nods, then slowly chews what he can from the massive pile he stuffed into his mouth. Once he's able to talk again, he tells me he's sorry.

I shake my head. “That's okay. It's what I'm here for. You need someone to take care of you, don't you?”

It's the closest I've come to hinting at who I am. Timothy freezes, his body halting mid-reach. He takes me in, his eyes looking all over my face and down my body. Like he's seeing me for the first time.

I'm not sure if it's the late night calling to me, but I decide to test the limits. I push between his legs, my hands moving to the counter behind him as I press my body forward. He doesn't lean back. If anything, he sways forward closer to me.

Neither of us are under the influence of anything unless you count fast food. So I know what he's feeling is true.

When my lips press against his, it feels like perfection. Like everything right in the world has come to be in this exact moment, and I can't get enough.

But instead of mauling him like I want to, I pull back.

“It's getting late. Why don't you sleep here? I'll drive you home in the morning before practice.”

I can tell he wants to deny the request. He's already given me so much. Hell, I just took a kiss from him without letting it continue. He chased my lips, eager for more, but I refuse to push too far too soon.

“I’ll stay,” he replies, his voice whisper soft in the space between us.

“How about I get you something comfortable to sleep in? You can take the bed while I take the couch.”

He pushes me back, catching me off guard enough that I move. Then he’s heading towards the door. “No! Absolutely not! You are way too big for that couch.”

I can’t let him leave. Blurting out the only thing that comes to mind, I say, “Then we'll share the bed.”

His hand pauses on the doorknob. “You want to share the bed with me?”

Oh sweet boy, I want to do so much more than that.

The dirty thoughts in my mind play all the ways we could fall into each other on a loop. Pushing them aside, I stand and meet him. My hands go to his shoulders. Gentle yet coaxing.

“I would love nothing more than to share space with you. I wish you could understand how much.”

Leading him to my bedroom, I pull out one of my old jerseys for him to sleep in. After I make sure he sees the sincerity in my gaze, I usher his tired form into the bathroom to brush his teeth with my extra toothbrush.

Once he's ready, I get him tucked in and climb into bed beside him. We lay facing one another, neither of us shying away from the closeness.

A few minutes pass in silence. I can tell he's fighting not going to sleep. It's like he wants to, but he can't.

It’s then I remember what he looked like on the couch in the office. With slow movements, I reach up and grab his fist where it's clenched on the pillow. I rub his knuckles until I can loosen them. Then I pluck his thumb up and press it to his bottom lip.

His expression is one of panic. He now knows that I know his secret. The fear bolting through him breaks my heart.

“It's okay, honeybee,” I whisper to him. “It's okay.”

The second he slips his thumb between his lips, I'm a goner. He passes out a few seconds later.

I become the creep I feel like as I stare at him for far too long. My sweet little honeybee has worn himself out today. All for me.

I plan to return the favor tenfold.

I'm going to spoil him endlessly.