Page 14 of Daddy’s Muse (Bloody Desires #12)

Still, there was nothing pushy in his tone, nothing I could point to as suspicious. Just… him. Steady, calm, looking at me like he’d carved out this time for me alone. I blushed at that thought. Had he been waiting for me? The beyond sexy, caring, amazing Daddy of my dreams? No way… right?

“You headed somewhere?” he asked.

“Back to my dorm. Just gonna grab dinner and—” I cut myself off before I could overshare, because talking to him always made me want to tell him more than I should. “Just… normal stuff.”

Bodin’s mouth twitched like my awkward pause amused him. “Ah, yes, normal stuff . Well, since we’re both here, would you like to get dinner with me? It would be my treat.”

My chest tightened, and sure that I had misheard him, I repeated, “Dinner? With me?”

“Ja.” That sounded like a yes.

My throat went a little dry. “Like… right now?”

His smile deepened, slow and knowing, like he could hear every thought tripping over itself in my head. “Unless you have somewhere else you’d rather be.”

I opened my mouth, but no words came out for a second. I’d been planning on grabbing something from the dining hall, eating alone while scrolling aimlessly on my phone. The thought of Bodin sitting across from me instead—talking to me, looking at me like he did—made my pulse jump.

“I, uh… Yes, I guess I’m free,” I managed, rocking back on my heels and feeling so small as he towered over me.

“Good.” He didn’t waste time, just gestured toward the edge of campus. “Come. I know a place.”

We fell into step together, and I couldn’t shake the weird awareness that he’d just… appeared. Nonetheless, I followed him diligently as he led me to who knew where.

The campus buildings thinned out, replaced by the quiet hum of town streets. He walked like he had all the time in the world, occasionally glancing over at me, like he was checking to make sure I hadn’t disappeared.

“You were studying?” he asked.

I nodded. “Yeah. I have a couple of exams next week.”

His mouth curved slightly. “I am sure you’ll do well. You’re a very smart boy.”

I huffed a laugh. “I don’t know about that. But… thanks.”

“Although you really shouldn’t follow strangers, Colby,” he mused.

My steps fumbled. “But you’re not a stranger… right?”

“I’m glad you see it that way, kaninen min.”

“What was that?” I asked, confused at the switch in languages.

He smiled, placing a heavy hand on my back as we turned the corner and reached a small brick building with warm light spilling through the windows.

“We’re here,” he said.

The sign above the door read Lena’s Kitchen in faded gold script. It was the kind of place you could walk past a dozen times without noticing, but I could smell the garlic and fresh bread even outside.

Bodin opened the door for me, and I stepped inside, blinking at the cozy glow.

A hostess looked up, and for a second her eyes flickered over Bodin like she was checking him out.

He didn’t seem to notice, instead remaining stoic and silent while she led us to a table in the corner.

Bodin pulled out my chair before sitting across from me.

I glanced at the menu, trying not to stare at him too openly. “So… how’d you find this place?”

His eyes held mine. “I make it a point to know where the good food is.” Then, almost as an afterthought, “And I like quiet corners. No matter when I come, this place is never busy.”

“Do you come here a lot?”

“Sometimes.” His tone was vague, like he didn’t want to pin down the answer too firmly. Then his lips quirked. “You’re not interrogating me already, are you, Colby?”

Heat rushed to my cheeks. “No, I just… was curious. And um… if you’ve eaten here before, maybe you have suggestions on what to order?”

“I like your curiosity,” he said simply.

And just like that, I was blushing even harder, because it didn’t sound like a throwaway compliment—it sounded like he meant it.

“Hmm,” he hummed, looking over his menu at me.

“I suppose it would depend on how you’re feeling.

You don’t like anything too complex,” he stated, like he knew that for a fact.

My brow creased. “I guess… I’m not the most adventurous eater.”

“I think I’d recommend the spaghetti and meatballs. It’s simple, but delicious. There’s also butter noodles on the kids’ menu.”

“O-oh, I don’t… um… spaghetti does sound really good,” I mumbled. The butter noodles did too, but… this felt too much like a first date to order off the kids’ menu.

The waitress came over to take our orders, and I barely registered Bodin ordering for both of us, only realizing it when the girl walked off. I picked at my napkin in thought.

Bodin leaned back slightly in his chair, drawing my attention to his broad, sturdy shoulders and muscular arms. “You were surprised to see me tonight.”

I froze, my hand mid-reach into the bread basket.

“What makes you say that?” Not wanting to keep my hand in the air like a weirdo, I grabbed a piece of bread and bit into it, practically moaning at the flavor.

“Oh, god… That’s so good.” I covered my mouth as I spoke, still chewing into the doughy, garlicky goodness.

Bodin chuckled. “I’m glad you approve. And, just your reaction to seeing me. You seemed… frightened for a moment.”

I scrambled for a reply. “Well… um—y-you did say you weren’t a student or a professor, so I just didn’t expect to see you on campus. I wasn’t scared or anything!”

His smile didn’t waver, but there was a flicker—just for a heartbeat—of something sharper in his expression. “Good. I wouldn’t want you to be scared of me, Colby.”

“No, I… I really like talking to you and stuff,” I gulped.

“And stuff?” A sinful smirk spread across his face.

“Yeah,” I swallowed.

“Well, I, too, really like talking to you and stuff .”

I blushed, glad that was the moment when our food arrived.

He didn’t fill the space with meaningless chatter, but he also didn’t let it get awkward.

He asked me questions like he was reading down a list of “Top 50 Icebreakers”: what my favorite book was as a kid, whether I’d rather live by the ocean or the mountains, who I’d call first if I got hurt or into trouble, things like that.

Halfway through my bowl of spaghetti, I set my fork down. “So… is this—” I hesitated, heat creeping up my neck. “I mean, you never said—I don’t want to assume, but—”

Bodin didn’t let me finish. He leaned forward slightly, elbows on the table, and his voice went low. “It’s a date, Colby.”

My stomach swooped.

“Unless you don’t want it to be,” he added, though his piercing gaze didn’t waver.

“I didn’t say that,” I murmured, shoving another piece of bread into my mouth. His lips curved into that satisfied, all-knowing smile again—the one that made me feel like I’d given him the right answer.

We lingered over the last of our food, Bodin nursing his drink while I poked at my final bite of noodles. I wasn’t ready for the night to end; my brain was buzzing with too many questions about him.

“I’m… um, this is the first time anyone’s taken me out.”

The corner of Bodin’s lips turned up, like he was pleased to hear that. “Oh?”

I nodded, staring down into my bowl as my fork spun the spaghetti around it. “I’m just… I think I’m a little high-maintenance,” I admitted, trying to keep my tone light. “I like… being taken care of. In certain ways. And…”

Bodin’s eyes sharpened, but he didn’t interrupt.

“Not that I expect anyone to—” I started.

“You want something more than most people are willing to give,” he said quietly, like he wasn’t asking, just stating a truth I’d never voiced out loud. “You want someone who knows what you need before you have to say it. Someone who doesn’t get tired of giving it.”

The words sank into me, heavier than I expected. “That’s… a little specific,” I said with a broken laugh, trying to deflect.

He just sipped his drink, eyes still on me. “It’s just the truth.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, so I busied myself with stacking my plate on top of his for the server. When the check came, he slid his card across without even glancing at the total.

“Come on,” he said as we stood. “I’ll walk you home.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I’m going to. I want to.”

My breath caught in my throat.

Outside, the air was cool, the streets quiet.

Bodin kept close throughout the walk, his hand brushing against mine every once in a while, making the urge to just take it almost irresistible.

The nearer we got to my dorm, the more that easy warmth from dinner twisted into something else—a low thrum of awareness, maybe even nerves.

And when the dorm building finally came into view, I realized that he’d been leading the way.

There were twelve residence halls on campus, and I knew I hadn’t mentioned which one was mine.

“Have you been here before?” I asked, slowing my steps.

He didn’t answer right away, just smiled faintly. “I’ve been near here.”

“Near here?”

“I told you—I’m not a student,” he said, almost playfully, though it didn’t quite erase the edge in his tone. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t be… around.”

The way he said it made my skin prickle.

Later that night, I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, listening to the hum of the cartoon I was streaming on my phone as background chatter. I was a little too preoccupied with my thoughts to actually watch and pay attention to the show.

The dorm was quiet—most people had either gone home for the weekend or were out late enjoying their Friday night—but my head wouldn’t shut up long enough for sleep.

I kept replaying the dinner in my mind, all the little details I’d been too flustered to fully process at the time.

At some point, I drifted off, still tangled in the sound of his voice.

* * *

The following Monday, I was heading back home after class, my backpack heavy with textbooks. The sun was setting, and the shadows from the buildings stretched long across the quad.

And who did I see sitting on a bench outside my dorm?

Bodin, of course.

I wondered if this was what he meant by around .