Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

VINCE

Being dragged out to another party is not the way I want to spend my Saturday night. I might only be in my twenties, however barely I'm holding onto them, but I've never been the type to party hard. I'm a homebody. I like chilling on the couch with a beer, some snacks, and some kind of sport on TV. That is relaxing.

But my best friend and colleague, Anson, is turning thirty and he wants to say goodbye to his twenties with a bang. Hence I'm leaning against the wall in his cramped living room, clutching a sweating bottle of beer in my hand and wincing against the thumping bass from his speakers. Anson, meanwhile, holds court in the middle of the room, gesticulating wildly with a manic grin on his face. I'm pretty sure he's telling the story about us walking in on our exes fucking each other, but I don't want any part of that.

From the way he's talking, you'd never guess that we're both well-respected doctors at a local hospital. Sometimes, I don't believe it myself. But we are, and I'd like to try and maintain my professional reputation.

Tearing my gaze away so I'm not pulled into the retelling, no matter how amusing Anson makes it, I startle when I find a pair of bright blue eyes staring intently at me.

"Uh"—I scramble for equilibrium—"hi?"

The eyes belong to a youthful face framed by a mop of red curls. Freckles dance over reddening cheeks and a ski-dip nose. Blush-pink lips part, and a red tongue sneaks out to moisten them before the bottom lip is tugged between two rows of pearly white teeth.

"Hi." My observer ducks his chin. "Sorry, I didn't mean to stare."

He's adorable .

For some reason, I always fall for the sweet, coy act. Always. I'm the world's biggest sucker for it. Invariably, though, it's only ever an act, and by the time I realize that, it's usually too late. Just ask Anson, whose ex-boyfriend was balls deep in my ex-girlfriend in this very spot six months ago. The fact that they barely paused their sexcapades to ask Anson and me to join in should give you some clue about how brazen my ex really was.

"It's okay." I take in the cute guy's slim frame from toe to crown. He's wearing skinny jeans and a pastel-blue T-shirt with a picture of Kermit the Frog emblazoned on its front. It suits his coloring perfectly. "There," I add, lazily bringing my gaze back to his. "Now we're even."

He honest-to-God giggles and nibbles his bottom lip again, his cheeks turning even more pink. "I don't know. I'm not much to look at." He shrugs. I can tell that he's aiming for self-deprecating humor, but there's a sense of genuine melancholy underneath the joke. I frown.

"Bullshit," I argue, making him inhale sharply. "You're the prettiest person in the room."

Obviously, I haven't yet learned my lesson. I'm still flirting with any coy cuties to cross my path.

Excellent .

When this all backfires on me ( again ), I give my conscience permission to say "I told you so."

Still abusing his bottom lip with those too-straight teeth, the guy looks down at the carpet and toes his sneaker over its surface. "Thank you."

The whole act is going straight to my dick.

I swallow roughly, clear my throat, and offer him my free hand. "I'm Vince."

He hesitates for a moment before he puts his palm in mine. His skin is soft and supple, smooth where mine is calloused. His touch is light and tentative, even as he clasps my hand and gives it a polite shake. "Baron."

I blink.

"Yeah." He chuckles, withdrawing his hand. Once again looking at his toes, he adds, "My mom's nuts. I, um, I prefer being called Bear. By, um, by friends."

Smirking, I lean down, brushing my lips over his earlobe, ostensibly so I can ensure that he'll hear me over the crazy-loud music. "Can I be your friend, Bear?"

His full-body shiver is exactly the response I wanted.

Before my new friend can reply, though, a large hand claps down on my shoulder and squeezes tight. It's a warning, but I can't fathom what for. I turn to look at Anson questioningly. The blond glances between me and Baron before grinning widely. "I see you've met our Baby Bear," he says, and a thrill of something like jealousy trickles down my spine. It only intensifies when he smiles much more softly in Baron's direction. "Careful with this one, Bear. He's not…uh…"

"Not what ?" I bristle, wondering what my best friend is up to.

Is he trying to warn me away from the whole cutesy coy act? Because it's too late. It might only have been a minute or two, tops, but I like Baron. And, when I like someone, I have to see how it plays out.

The hand still on my shoulder squeezes again. "Trust me, Vince. Bear's looking for a?—"

"Daddy." Baron immediately appears horrified at his own outburst.

" Oh ," I exhale. I don't have any issues being called Daddy. I mean, it's just a word, right? "Bear, you can call me Daddy if you want to."

"Vin…" Anson's voice dips low with warning, but I wave him off.

A little daddy kink won't kill me. In fact, hearing the word come out of Baron's mouth is kind of hot. And, at almost thirty to his…what? Twenty-two if he was a day? Well, I guess maybe I do throw off Daddy vibes. I've got the dad bod, anyway. I might as well embrace the word.

Baron stares at me with what can only be described as awe. "Really?"

"Vinnie…" Anson tries again.

Ignoring him, I grin back at Baron. "Of course, Bear. I'd love to be your Daddy."

Anson groans and mutters something about me having no idea what I'm getting myself into, but I'm solely focused on the way Baron's eyes have lit up and he's bouncing on his heels.

"Do you wanna dance? I'm a very good dancer, Daddy." He hits me with more wide-eyed na?vety and my cock perks up with interest.

"Lead the way, baby."