Chapter 19

CHAPTER 19

Micah

As much as I enjoy spending time with the other Daddies and boys on the train, I'm thankful when nighttime comes, and I can get Jett alone again.

My sweet boy has mostly kept to himself throughout the day. The others were able to bring him into conversation and a little bit of playtime, but I could tell his energy was waning.

Part of me is amazed that he can keep up playing an entire football game when he's been so lethargic this whole trip. I suspect it has more to do with his Little nature than anything.

He's spent so much time worrying about things like getting to practice and eating the right foods for years. All these other millions of things have kept him preoccupied, so when he finally lets all that go, his body needs rest.

So rest is what he's going to get.

I take him to the room and have him go potty before we climb into bed. While he handles that, I strip down to my underwear.

While I enjoyed last night's sexual exploits, I'm not going to pressure him for anything more. There's not really a need to when I feel confident in where we are at this stage.

Some people consider sex like a check mark they have to do, or a mandatory thing in relationships. For me, it's an added bonus.

Being close to him is enough.

And honestly, if he weren't here, but I could still talk to him and check on him, I would feel just the same.

I'm not an idiot.

I know how much my brother has to travel for his career. Jett will be going with him. There's no avoiding it.

With my work being what it is, I won't be able to hop on a plane every time they go somewhere. That doesn't mean our relationship has to suffer or that it's not possible to be happy together. There are plenty of professional athletes who are married and build families.

Not that marriage is what I want right now.

Right now, I simply want to bask in the beauty and softness and affection that I have for my sweet boy.

When morning comes, I wake to find my boy already watching me. His thumb has slipped between his lips, and his eyes are wide.

It's then I notice that the curtains are open. It's as white as could be outside. Snow covers nearly everything.

I feel a bit off-kilter given today is the last day of the trip. I dread it a bit, but at the same time, I know I am capable of making this work outside of this one piece of time.

I can convince, or rather suggest, because I don't want to pressure him, that we stay together. We also have our single night at the hotel, which I planned to use as a buffer should the train be late.

It's not, which is good.

While I wouldn't mind staying on it, I also know that we need time away from this specific location. My boy's feelings for trains could be overlapping with his feelings for me.

It's something I need to uncover before it goes any further.

"Good morning, sweet boy," I tell him.

"Good morning, Daddy," he mumbles around his thumb.

"Are you ready to get up and start the day?"

He nods quickly, then whispers, "It's Christmas."

Laughing at his cuteness, I pull him to my chest and kiss the tip of his nose. "It is Christmas! Do you think that there are any presents for you?"

His finger pops out of his mouth as shock covers his features. "But how?"

I shake my head. "Santa, of course. How else would presents show up on Christmas Day?"

He doesn't accept my teasing for what it is. There's suspicion in his gaze now, as if he knows that I'm hiding things from him.

I mean, of course I am hiding things, but they're good things.

Good things like presents and a train trip. Stuff I know he'll like.

We argue a bit over if he can stay in his pajamas. I remind him that he has other clothes he can wear that will be just as comfortable.

What I don't tell him is that I have another outfit for him to wear. This one less Little, but still just as comfy.

When I first saw Jett, I wondered what it would be like to be partnered with someone of his size. I knew that I could wrap up in his sweatshirts and cuddle into his lap because I was smaller, but I really wanted it to be the opposite. The Daddy in me needs to hold him and comfort him.

I want my boy to feel just as special as anyone else.

So an idea formed. As I climb out of bed to get the perfectly wrapped package I tucked away in my suitcase, I hope that it was the right call.

"While I would have loved to have given you this with everyone else opening presents, I feel like you should open it now. It's important for you to have before we leave the room."

My boy doesn't hesitate to rip into the paper. He's wavering somewhere between that Little side I've come to care for and his adult self, with just enough of the regression for him to not care about making a mess.

It's adorable.

Once he gets inside the box, he gasps. He pulls out a hoodie with my boutique's name on it. It's oversized to ensure it'll fit him. And on the back, it's got his football number and Sweet Boy written above it.

Considering I had already decided on the nickname for him before this trip, it made sense to put it on the hoodie. It's also underneath the hood, so unless he's got it up, most people won't notice.

Beneath that, I included a pair of sweats with his number on the thigh and his team name running down the leg.

After he has them both out, he leans forward slowly until his face is pressed against the material. He rubs from side to side, taking in their softness before he breathes in deep. It's then he freezes again, and I smile.

"Daddy, they smell like you? How is that possible?"

I tug the fabric further down so I can see his face. "I decided to wear them around my house before the trip. I wanted to make they smelled like me so you would feel wrapped up in my warmth. I obviously had to get them in a size that would be comfy for you, which meant I was buried in fabric. But it was worth every single second I nearly tripped over my own feet."

He giggles, and the sound punctures my heart.

Gosh, I love him.

The thought is instant. There's no hesitation, no question.

My subconscious knows what I did not want to accept yet, because my brain feels it's too soon. Insta-love is a fluke. Attraction should be invested in over time. I'm not a love at first sight person.

Except maybe I am.

Maybe I've been wrong this entire time.

"I can wear this today, can't I, Daddy?" My sweet boy asks as he bounces on the bed a little bit.

He's far too large to do a full-blown jump, but it's enough that I put my hand between his head and the top bunk bed. The top bunk that has been completely unused since we started this trip.

"Yes, sweet boy. You can wear that today. It's why I brought it. I figured you would be most comfortable in something like this, rather than another outfit since we get off the train today."

His bottom lip pokes out. "I don't want to leave," he admits.

Since he stopped bouncing, it's safe to move my hand. I run it down over his hair and cup his jaw.

Smiling confidently, I tell him, "I don't want to leave either, but we can't stay on the train forever. I think it will be good for us to head to the hotel after and get resituated. Besides, so long as you want me to be your Daddy, I will be. This does not have to end the minute we step back on steady ground."

Jett bites his lip, then nods carefully.

I sense he may not believe me. I wouldn't blame him. It's one thing to take someone on a trip for the holidays as part of a Secret Santa ruse. It's another to commit to a relationship with that person outside of said trip.

I'm going to prove to him, though, that he is more to me than a charade. Maybe if I admitted to him that the charade was one that I had my brother and his teammates invent for the sole purpose of being alone with him, then he'll see how serious I am.

Or, then again, he might think I'm a stalker and decide to run in the opposite direction. I'm not sure I want to risk that last one.

I pull him from the bed and motion to the bathroom. He goes on his way, leaving me to my own thoughts. As I get dressed, I weigh the pros and cons. The good far outweighs the bad, and I can only hope that my boy sees it the same way.

Once he's dressed in his comfy clothes, and I've changed into my own somewhat festive garments, which include a green sweater and a pair of black slacks along with some house slippers that are soft and warm, I bring out my last surprise of the morning.

The thick socks with trains on them are another custom-made item I had commissioned to fit my boy's extra-long feet. Initially, I had thought to give it to him with his pajamas, but considering those already have feet built in, it made more sense to pair it with the sweatpants.

"Have a seat, sweet boy," I tell him as I pat the bed.

He plops down, then raises one leg. He's so long that I have to make him bend his knee so I can get the sock on. The confined space of the train car is not much to work with when you're over six and a half feet tall.

The second both socks are on, he wiggles his toes and claps his hands. "Comfy, Daddy!"

I smile, then tug him to stand. He does most of the work, though he still humors me by making me feel like I'm in charge.

Leaving the room for the last time feels monumental. We'll be back throughout the day, of course, but it's the last morning where we'll wake up, get dressed together, and go out to face our new friends.

Friends who have quickly become ingrained in our lives. I can't wait to see how things turn out in the future.

Will we go visit them or will they all bundle up to come visit us? If they come to Bellport, will they meet Bellamy and Aries and Monty and all the rest of the gang? Could we host some type of big party?

The thoughts make me wonder when my boy's birthday is. It's something I'll have to see about coordinating. He would love some type of train-themed event. I just know it.

Throughout the day, I make a plan in my head while my boy loosens up and plays with his friends. Someone pulls out a set of blocks and some Lincoln logs, which takes up a good bit of the morning. All the Littles come together to work on it, and one Daddy even produces crayons and coloring books.

Apparently, they'd all done presents in their room as well. The day is less Christmas-oriented with gift-giving and more about spending quality time together. It's wonderful.

Conveniently, it also gives me a chance to plot with the other Daddies. I convince more than a few of them to see about coming down for Jett's birthday — which I confirmed is April via an Internet search over breakfast.

The few that can't make it promise to send gifts and well wishes, along with making video calls.

Speaking of video calls, no one has reached out to Jett since we left. I know because I have been keeping track of his phone. He's had a couple of messages from Bellamy saying he hoped that we had a good time and to not worry about anything, but otherwise, it's been pretty silent.

I know his mom is on a trip as well, and I hope that means she's staying safe wherever she is.

As if my mind conjured her, his phone begins to buzz in my pocket. Once I pull it out, I see it's his mother trying to FaceTime him.

At my panicked expression, Jasper laughs. "What's wrong there, Micah?"

I turn the phone his way. "My future mother-in-law's calling, and my boy's in his Little mode. I'm not really sure if I should answer, but it's Christmas Day."

Jasper sucks in a breath. "That could be a problem. Maybe you should just go talk to him? I'm sure he would like to speak to his mom today. Also, his Little mindset doesn't mean he's not aware enough to tell his mom he loves her and Merry Christmas. Trust me, I know all about it. My boy could live in his regressed state 24/7 if it were possible."

I'm thankful he doesn't comment on the mother-in-law slip up. He probably knows I'm too freaked out to take a joke.

I bite my lip, then rush over to Jett's side. "Sweet boy, you have a call coming in."

He turns to look at me, then sees the phone. His small smile drops away as shock covers his features.

"My mother," he says softly, then grabs the phone.

He doesn't move, nor does he act as if me being right at his shoulder is an issue. He simply answers the call, which brings to the screen a woman who looks so similar to him it's uncanny. Like a female cloned version of him — the same rich brown skin, the same eyes that captivate my soul.

Instead of the short curls on his head, she has her hair wrapped in a beautiful scarf with a few small curls peeking from the top. She's also in what appears to be a swimsuit and sunglasses.

"What are you doing?" she says by way of greeting.

My sweet boy dips his head. "I'm on a train ride," he tells her.

She gasps, her hand moving to her chest. "Oh, that's lovely, sweetheart. I'm so glad you got out of the house for the holidays. Who's that with you? I don't recognize him."

She tilts her glasses down and leans forward. My boy turns to look at me. I'm smiling, amused that it took him so long to realize I'm visible on screen. At my slight nod, he turns back to his mother and says words that give me chills.

"He's my boyfriend."