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But it was Immy’s safety and happiness that consumed him.

Almost to the extent of being unhealthy. To the point that sometimes he couldn’t think of anything else.

Like tonight.

He’d tried to go to bed, but the thought that she was hiding something from him was keeping him awake. What if she was in trouble? What if she couldn’t sleep?

He knew he’d be unable to sleep without checking in on her.

But Immy needed a lot of sleep. If she didn’t get enough sleep or eat properly, she could easily get ill.

Stress also wasn’t good for her. Which was another reason he wanted to find out what was going on.

So he didn’t knock because he didn’t want to wake her up if she was asleep. Instead, he quietly pushed her door open.

Yeah, someone else would likely take offense to him sneaking into their room like this. It was an invasion of privacy.

Unless you were Immy and Jenner.

And then privacy didn’t really come into it. Because he’d been sneaking into her room for years. It had been so hard to live apart from her after they left the cult, before they’d all been old enough to move in together. But at least she’d been close by and they’d gone to school together.

Sometimes, he’d still snuck out of his house at night to go to hers. Thankfully, neither his mom nor his aunt had discovered what he was doing.

Jenner’s mom had been his father’s second wife. After Sampson’s mother. His aunt, her sister, had often tried to free the two of them from the cult. But they’d been too scared to leave Sampson, whose mother had died a few years previously.

Jenner slipped into her room. She had a nightlight on and he moved closer to the bed, studying her.

God, she was beautiful.

He’d always thought that she was cute. She was fun and sweet.

But lately . . . yeah, he’d started to notice how beautiful she was. How feminine and gorgeous.

Jenner swallowed heavily, closing his eyes.

It was wrong.

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

He couldn’t think of Immy as anything other than his sister. He wouldn’t do that to her. She deserved someone who wasn’t like him. Wasn’t messed up. Someone who didn’t come with all his baggage. That could see how gorgeous and sexy she was without wanting to vomit.

Screwed up didn’t even come close to explaining his state of mind. Sometimes he felt like he didn’t even deserve to breathe the same air as Immy.

She was perfection.

He was the troll under the bridge, just hoping for a glimpse of her sunshine.

Yet he couldn’t stop himself from taking her in. Her red hair was streaming out across her pillow. Her bedding was all Harry Potter themed with Harry, Hermione, and Ron on the front. Hogwarts Castle was in the background. She was cuddling Snowy, her owl.

Was she a Little? He often thought she was, but she always denied it.

And it wasn’t about her liking Harry Potter or sleeping with a soft toy. Plenty of people who weren’t Littles did that. It was the way she acted, the way she seemed to need how they all nurtured and supported her.

Maybe it was just Immy.

But he couldn’t help but think that Immy would thrive with a Daddy.

You could be her Daddy.