Chapter 7

"Come hungry."

Rowan stared at the text messages for the millionth time the next morning. In fact, he'd had to pull over because going somewhere new often made him anxious and this was Master Gabriel. What did it mean? Well, he knew what it meant, but the thought of having to eat in front of anyone else made him feel ill, especially Master Gabriel. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, then looked at the clock on his GPS. He had time. Not that you should ever keep a Dom waiting. Well, anyone, but especially someone that expected obedience. This was going to be a disaster. He knew it was. In fact, he didn't know why he hadn't cancelled, except he couldn't think of an excuse and the idea of lying to Master Gabriel felt wrong.

After a moment, he set off again and, using the code, accessed the community Master Gabriel lived in. As he drove past the manicured lawns, the lakes, the tennis court, and the swimming pool, he was surprised. Not that the area wasn't nice. He just expected Master Gabriel to want a little more privacy, or even somewhere low key. Not that he should know. It wasn't like they were friends. Even if Rowan hoped they might be.

If he was honest, he wanted more, but as he was honest, or tried to be, he knew that friends would be all he was ever going to get.

Rowan parked carefully and gazed at the unit as he got out of the car. There were four, like Master Gabriel had explained. Two downstairs and two up. He knew Master Gabriel's was on the right, but he didn't seem to be able to get his legs to walk away from the car, so he just stood there.

"Rowan."

Rowan looked up and saw Master Gabriel standing, smiling, at the top of the stairs next to an open door. Swallowing heavily, he walked over and up the stairs. Master Gabriel had gone back inside, so he wasn't staring at him climbing the stairs.

Rowan walked in and looked around quickly; his first impression was that it was bare. Functional. But then, the only thing he liked about his father's house was the library and his secret room.

He didn't like anything about Mother's.

"Are you a vegetarian?"

Rowan blinked. "What?" He thought Master Gabriel had said something else as well, but as usual, he was spacing out.

Master Gabriel glanced back as he was heading to the kitchen. "Food allergies?"

"No, Sir. No," Rowan mumbled.

Gabriel grabbed a pan and poured a little olive oil into it before putting it on to heat.

"Can I help, Sir?" Rowan offered. He could cook the basics.

Master Gabriel looked over at him again. "Yes. You can take your jacket off, grab a seat, and call me Gabe." He smiled. "Only my friends get to call me Gabe."

His friends?

Rowan's heart went pitter-patter with excitement. He carefully returned to the doorway where he'd left his shoes and solemnly hung his jacket on the peg, then came back and took a seat at the table.

"I'm only renting," Master—no, Gabe, explained. "But there's an extended development going in at the back I've been looking at. Three beds, one story. Plenty of yard space. If my plans work out I'll be home more, and I'm thinking about getting a dog."

"You are?" Rowan always wanted a pet. Anything, but of course—

"Yep, my sister's best friend has a German Shepherd. He's her service dog, but he's a big softy as well. You got any pets?"

Rowan shook his head and watched in awe as Gabe folded his first omelet after stuffing it full of different veggies. Then he slipped it onto a plate and popped it in the oven.

"What would you like to drink?"

"I—" Rowan could feel his face heating.

Gabe reached into the fridge and pulled out two water bottles. He unscrewed one and set it down in front of Rowan. "Coffee? Tea? I have orange juice. Milk?" He glanced over at Rowan. "Chocolate milk?"

Rowan desperately wanted to ask for chocolate milk. He hadn't had that…well, in forever.

"I'm not sure if I made it properly," Gabe mused and opened the fridge again. "You'll have to tell me what you think."

"You made some?" Rowan blurted out.

"I might have overheard Charlie raving about it one time, and you looked like you were agreeing with him." Then Rowan stared in utter shock as Gabe brought out a Toy Story cup with a straw and a lid, poured some milk in, and snapped the lid on. "And I know you like Toy Story."

He put the cup down in front of Rowan. Rowan took one look and bolted for the bathroom before he made an utter fool of himself and did something really stupid, like crying. Rowan stood with his hands pressed to his mouth and his back to the door. He shook. It was like he couldn't catch his breath.

"Rowan, are you okay?"

Rowan might have whimpered, but silently. His heart was going a million miles an hour. He had to move his hands so he could gasp in a breath. Not now. Not now. Rowan knew what a panic attack felt like. He had to breathe.

"Rowan?" Master—no Gabe, call him Gabe, was using his Dom voice. The one that made Rowan weak at the knees. Good thing he was sitting down. Wait? He was sitting down? How did that happen?

"Rowan, open the door."

That was an order. Rowan shuffled forward. It wasn't locked. Then the door opened, and Master came in. Nope, he couldn't call him Gabe. But he couldn't breathe either.

"Okay Rowan, this is what we're going to do." Master's voice came through a fog. "You're going to get up and sit on the chair because leaning forward there is pretty impossible." Except Rowan couldn't get his legs to work, and then it seemed he didn't have to because without any effort, Master had him up and sitting on the chair in the corner. "Now lean forward and just take some breaths. In, count to three. Out, count to three. Good boy. Well done. And again." And somewhere in between being so shocked Master was able to get him off the floor without, well, a crane, and being called a good boy which seemed to warm Rowan all the way to his toes, Rowan did exactly what Master told him, and in a moment he could breathe.

So, he wasn't going to suffocate, merely die of embarrassment.

Master chuckled. "Nah, you're not allowed to die before breakfast."

Oh. Apparently, he'd said that out loud. Well, he couldn't get any redder. Rowan kept his gaze on the floor and breathed. Master was rubbing soothing circles on his back, and it was so good. Then he stopped, crouched down in front of Rowan, and hooked a finger under Rowan's chin and gently encouraged him to look up. Not that looking into Master Gabriel's eyes was a chore. In fact, he'd never noticed the almost amber highlights in the deep brown before. Rowan sighed happily.

"Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but I think you were embarrassed because I got you the Toy Story cup? Overwhelmed a little?"

Rowan nodded, his happiness deflating.

"Rowan, do you think I would get embarrassed if you saw me in my leather pants or holding a whip?"

Rowan swallowed heavily, a weird fluttery feeling starting in his belly.

"Rowan, you're a little. I'm a Dom. Of all your friends, I should be the one person to understand." He paused. "I'm guessing other than at the club, you don't have another safe space to explore your little side?"

He opened his mouth to tell Master about the room, but he couldn't. He'd tried not to think about it, because he knew he was going to have to remove everything.

"What is it?" Master drew his thumb over Rowan's cheek.

"Father's selling the house," Rowan croaked out.

Master gazed at him. "Rowan, do you have some little things there? Maybe stuffies? Books?"

Rowan nodded, misery sinking into him like a cloud.

"Well then, until you get your own place, pack them up and bring them here."

"Here?" Rowan said. In an abstract way he understood the word of course, just not what Master meant. "Master—"

But Master chuckled. "You're really struggling to call me by my name, huh?"

Rowan flushed.

"Then, how about when you're here, you call me Daddy Gabriel or Daddy Gabe?"

Rowan was going to have a heart attack. "Daddy Gabriel?" he squeaked out. "But you're not a Daddy."

"No, but I can be when you're here if it helps. You can't call me that at the club, but I don't mind if it makes it easier for you here. And it's similar to calling me Master Gabriel."

"You don't mind?" Rowan rubbed his chest. Something hurt. But if he was going to die, he would go happily now.

"We're friends, aren't we? I want you to be comfortable around me. I can't help you get a Daddy unless you feel you can talk to me. Don't forget, you're helping me as well." Master—no, Daddy Gabriel stood and held out his hand. "Come on, let's eat. I'm hungry."

Rowan took it. It was warm, safe. He had a Daddy. No, he had a friend that would let him call him a Daddy.

Before Rowan knew what was happening, he was digging into a really tasty omelet. Veggies never tasted this good. He had some of those cute little breakfast potatoes as well, and some red sauce to dip them in. Rowan hummed around a delicious mouthful. M—Daddy Gabriel didn't say much as he was eating, but every so often he would smile in approval. Daddy Gabriel finished first and got up to pour himself a coffee, and that almost broke the spell. Rowan looked down at his plate in alarm. He was maybe three quarters of the way through, and while it killed him, he carefully put down his knife and fork.

Daddy Gabriel looked over. "You didn't like it?" He shrugged. "Be honest. Honesty is very important, vital even, to a friendship."

"I loved it," Rowan blurted out. "I—"

Daddy Gabriel came back to the table, sipping his coffee. "It's okay if you're full. Please don't feel you have to finish it."

Rowan looked down at his plate. Be honest. "Mother always gets angry if I finish my meals."

Daddy Gabriel gazed at him. Confusion flittered across his face, so Rowan hurried to explain. "It's just because she cares. I was sick for quite a while, and she worries I eat too much. Weigh too much," Rowan added miserably.

"I suppose I can understand that," Daddy Gabriel said carefully. "I'm assuming you see a nutritionist?"

"A dietician," Rowan mumbled, feeling his face heat. He looked up when Daddy Gabriel didn't reply. Daddy Gabriel nodded, then reached for Rowan's plate and cleared everything before Rowan even got the chance to offer.

A dietician? Gabriel struggled to keep his opinions to himself, but making Rowan feel guilty about eating food was complete bullshit. And he knew because of Clare that dieticians had to be fully registered and keep themselves up to date. They were skilled and highly educated, but Rowan had said it like it was something to be ashamed of. Rowan wore a lot of baggy clothes, and Gabe had had been shocked at the ease with which he'd gotten Rowan off the floor. He hadn't weighed as much as Gabe expected, but somehow Rowan seemed to have so much guilt and shame. Not that the disaster from last week had helped in any way, and he had to remember that despite him wanting to help Rowan, Rowan didn't belong to him. Daddy Gabriel? The words had been out of his mouth before he could second-guess himself. He knew that's how the littles referred to other Daddies.

He was worried he might be giving Rowan the wrong idea. But then, Rowan needed a friend, and the Master title or even just his first name wasn't working. He needed advice. But he had no ability, and especially no right, to get any information about Rowan that Rowan didn't give him.

Baby steps.The more Rowan relaxed around him, the more he would trust him, and hopefully, the more Gabe would be able to help. Rowan needed to be happy and a little more confident in himself. He didn't need to settle. He was smart, kind, and any Daddy would be very lucky to have him.

It was a shame Gabriel wasn't one.