Page 4 of Grace's Daddy

I scoot forward on my butt until I’m free of the closet. By then, Eli pushes to his feet and gives my hand a tug, helping me up.

My heart is racing. I’ve never been so nervous in my life. This is surreal. I can’t believe it’s happening. I let Eli guide me out of the bedroom, wincing at everything we pass. My bed is covered with stuffies. My bedding is pink with ruffles all around it. My princess nightgown is lying on my pillow where I dropped it this morning.

I cringe as I spot my dolls and all their clothes in the corner of the room. As soon as we step into my living room, I groan. Sheesh. I didn’t clean up today.

Eli guides me to my sofa and turns to grab my hips. He lifts me off my feet and sets me on the cushions before sitting right in front of me on my coffee table. His legs straddle mine, and he leans in close to me, setting his elbows on his knees. “Take a breath, Grace.”

I’m stiff. I lean back and look around. My kitchen table has coloring books and crayons all over it. There are dishes on my counter, including plastic things suitable for a toddler, among those items are several sippy cups.

In the corner of my couch is a wadded up pink princess blankie and two of my stuffies. None of that affects me as much as the pacifier on the end table. Shit.

I jerk my gaze to him, but he’s looking at me, not at my surroundings. He’s already seen all of this, though. He walkedthrough my mess to get to me where I was hiding like a coward in my closet.

I shift my attention toward the front door. My mail is no longer on the floor. I’m sure half of it was inside the apartment and the other half out in the hall. Eli must have picked it up all. I notice now it’s in a stack next to his hip on the coffee table. It’s damp because the water bottle exploded all around the mail. There’s no water on the floor, though, so I assume he wiped it up with something.

“Grace, I need you to stop panicking, sweet girl. You’re Little. It’s okay. I get it. I’m not judging you.”

I lick my lips. “I’ve never met a Daddy,” I whisper.

“Sure you have. You just didn’t know it. There are Daddies all around you. Could be the cashier at the grocery store. Could be the mailman. Could be the guy who brings our pizza.”

“What if the guy who brings the pizza is a girl?” I ask, narrowing my gaze.

He chuckles. “Good point. She could be a Mommy.” He lifts a brow.

He’s right.

“Well, I’ve never met someone Iknowis a Daddy.”

“Now you have. You’ve known me for months, and I’m definitely a Daddy. Do you want to see my official Daddy certification?”

My eyes go wide. “You have such a thing?”

He chuckles again. “No. I was kidding. But I do know people who can vouch for me if you want to check my references.”

“Why would you have references?”

“I belong to the Dungeon in town. I know the owner and many of the members. I’ve never seen you there. I guess you’ve never gone?”

“No, Sir.” I’ve never even heard of the Dungeon.

“It’s a kink club. A lot of members are Daddies and Littles. I’m serious that I could give you the name of the owner, and you could verify I’m a good guy.”

I slowly shake my head. “I don’t need to.” He moved in across the hall from me six months ago. By now I would probably know if he were a serial killer, right?

He smiles, his eyes so very kind. “Does anyone know you’re Little, Grace?”

“No, Sir.”

“I’m honored then. You know you’re not the only Little who lives alone in Little space without a caregiver. Lots of Littles do.”

“They do?” I’ve never thought about it. I follow several different Littles through their blogs, but I have no idea if there are others out there or just a few.

“It’s very creative of you, Grace. You essentially have to be your own caregiver. That can be exhausting.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean who tells you to clean up? Who makes you dinner? Who gives you a bath? Who disciplines you, Grace?”