Page 9

CHAPTER NINE

NICO

Sunday morning, and I was back in Levi’s guest bedroom again.

When this weekend started, I hadn’t imagined spending it in Babbo’s house, eating pizza and watching cartoons. Truthfully, I wasn’t even sure who I was at this point. But I was okay with it. Yesterday, I’d felt freer and more relaxed and more… me than I’d ever felt in my entire life. On top of all that, I’d managed to connect with the one guy who just rolled with it. I hadn’t necessarily expected him to kick me out of the house or anything, but I’d thought he would be way more concerned about the sudden change. Nope. Babbo had just shrugged and got on with it.

Babbo had wiped my face and called me a good boy. And I’d wanted to be one for him after our lunch. He’d insisted I take a nap, tucked me into bed, and then apologized for not having a stuffie or a sippy cup. I vaguely remembered him asking if I had one at my place and being ridiculously sad that I didn’t. When he kissed my forehead and said not to worry about it, I swooned. Get me a fainting couch because I’m going down swooned .

After my nap, we’d spent the rest of the day playing video games as promised. Rather than play war games or complicated racing games, he’d put on silly ones where I could grow things, visit the zoo, or build things with blocks. I was surprised Babbo had the games on his account, given he’d mostly played with middles, and I knew he didn’t play those himself. The entire evening, he’d been right beside me. Every so often, he played a few rounds, and other times, he worked on his case files while I played. It’d been the exact kind of thing I’d always said wasn’t for me, but I’d never been happier or more content. If this was domestication, maybe it wasn’t as terrible as I had always thought. That was a ginormous maybe though.

I still needed to face him…unless he wasn’t here. Occasionally, he left early on Sundays, and…nope, there was a crash from somewhere. He was home.

I shoved the covers off and climbed out of bed as quietly as I could manage. Since I had some time, I jumped into the shower for a quick rinse. Once finished, I went down the hallway and the stairs, following the noise until I got to the kitchen doorway. Whatever Levi was cooking smelled wonderful, but he sat at the table with his glasses on. Oh. Em. Gee. That man was sexy in glasses. He looked like a proper Daddy in them, tapping away on his computer. Babbo stared so intently at his computer that he didn’t even notice me until I plopped down at the table beside him.

“Oh, I didn’t hear you come in,” Babbo said after a startled yelp. “Have you been down here for long?”

“Ha! I didn’t mean to scare you, and I just got here.”

I tried to project a lot more self-confidence than I had, but I’d had a ton of practice with it. If there was one thing I knew how to do, it was fake self-confidence. Out in the real world, absolutely no one ever knew I was scared shitless most of the time, and this morning was no exception. “Smells good in here. It’s what got me out of bed.”

“Then it worked,” Babbo said with a wink. “When I was a kid, my mom always made a big breakfast on Sunday morning, and it’s something I’ve carried over as an adult. No matter what, Sunday mornings are a big deal for me.”

“What are you cooking?”

“Bacon and coffee cake are in the oven. There’s chopped fruit already in the fridge, and when you got downstairs, I figured I’d scramble some eggs.”

“Impressive spread. My Sunday morning breakfast is usually cereal.”

“Even when you lived with your parents?”

“My mom is more of a dinner person. She doesn’t really do breakfast, and my dad doesn’t cook much at all.”

“I am more of an eat-all-day person. I’ll take food anytime I can get it.”

“Well, some of us are short and pudgy. We don’t have the luxury of eating all day.”

“And some of us think you’re sexy as hell and look fucking fantastic.”

Who was I to argue with that? If I pushed it, I doubted he’d let me win the argument. “Do lawyers work twenty-four-seven?”

“My managing partners wish I would, but I’ve been working on this case for a while, and I’m hoping it will be resolved sooner rather than later.”

“The rough day you still haven’t told me about?”

“Meh. There’s not much to tell. My boss’s bosses have thoughts about how I do my job. I disagree,” he answered with a shrug.

“Does that put your job in jeopardy?”

“I’m not sure yet, but it’s not right this second, so I don’t need to worry about it.” Levi moved his chair back from the table and checked the oven. I got up from the kitchen table and moved to a stool at the island to watch him.

“Want to help?” Babbo asked.

“I’m supervising this morning.”

“Well, hopefully, I’ll pass inspection.”

“I’m sure you’ll have no trouble,” I replied with a wink.

Babbo chuckled at my joke, turned his back, and messed with whatever he had on the stove. He grabbed an apron off a hook and wrapped it around his waist. I liked the confidence he had to wear the brightly patterned apron with frilly edges.

“That’s a pretty apron you’ve got there.”

“Yeah,” Babbo chuckled. “It’s not my usual style, but it belonged to my grandma. It always makes me smile when I wear it and remember her.” Color appeared on his cheeks.

“Oh, that’s sweet. I’m sure she’d appreciate the thought.”

“I hope so. She was the one who taught me to cook before we had to move her into an assisted living place. It was one of the things she insisted I take with me when we packed up her house.”

“It found a good home with you.”

Levi offered me some coffee as I sat there and watched him work. He fixed it just the way I liked it—cream and lots of sugar.

When the coffee cake was out of the oven, the scrambled eggs were finished, and the bacon was properly crisped, we moved back to the table, bringing along the fruit platter. Babbo insisted on serving me because he said I was a guest, but I didn’t feel like a guest in his house. It was so homey and comfortable that it felt more like an extension of my own. After a few minutes of compatible silence, Babbo took a deep breath and asked what we both knew needed to be addressed this morning. “So about yesterday…”

“Oh my god, I don’t even know what came over me. Maybe I have some sort of brain rot?”

“I’m not a doctor, and I don’t play one on TV, but I’m pretty sure there’s nothing wrong with your brain. Have you never dropped into little space before?”

“No.” My facade of self-assurance was in danger of slipping. He heard the hesitation in my answer. “Well, I mean, I thought about what it would be like before, but I’ve never actually experimented with it.”

“What did you think of it?”

I hesitated before I answered. Did I just throw it out on the table that it was the best thing ever? That I felt like it was a missing piece of me? It was a lot to put on him. Even as a middle, I’d never dropped like that before.

When we met, Babbo said he liked middles, and he liked me as a middle. But what if that was all he was interested in and yesterday was just placating me because I was already in his house? He hadn’t mentioned playing with other littles, but would that have been a weird thing to bring up? He definitely hadn’t mentioned it before either. Granted, we hadn’t had many heartfelt conversations in hotel rooms, but we’d had pillow talk, and it never came up. Not even once. Instead of answering, I just sat.

“Sweet Boy,” Babbo reached across the table and gently rubbed his thumb across the back of my hand, “there’s not a right answer here. Or judgment.”

I hated how nice he was being. If he were mean about it, I wouldn’t have to think about how much it rattled me. A small part of me considered lying, but he was a divorce lawyer. I wouldn’t get one over on him, even if I tried. Sadly, honesty was my only available option.

“I liked it,” I whispered. Liked was an understatement but it would do for now.

“It seems like that bothers you unless I’m reading you wrong?” Babbo flipped my hand over and traced the lines of my palms. It sent shivers and tingles through my body, including, inconveniently, my dick.

“I don’t want you to feel like I tricked you.” Where he had been rubbing his thumb across my hand, he immediately stilled and stared at me with a dropped jaw.

“What the hell are you talking about? How on earth would you have tricked me?” Babbo asked incredulously.

“Because I said I was a middle. But yesterday I wasn’t. It came out of nowhere, and I don’t want you to think I lied to you.” In hindsight, I should’ve kept up with my silence, but instead, I opened my mouth and let him see all the insecurity pouring out of me. This wasn’t how I wanted to project myself to anyone, but mostly him.

“Oh, Sweet Boy. You’re overthinking this.”

Babbo sounded so gentle when he said my nickname, but I didn’t know what he was about when he pushed back from the table and grabbed my hand to pull me out of the chair. “This isn’t a conversation to be had over a kitchen table. Snuggles are required for this discussion.”

“Babbo, you need snuggles too?”

“Absolutely, and so we’re clear… I need them from you.”

I tried to control my smile but failed. “If that’s what you need, then I guess I can help you.”

“You’re a good boy, Sweet Boy.”

I preened and popped out my chest at his words of praise. With my hand firmly in his, Babbo led me through the house and back up the stairs toward his bedroom. He pushed open the door and walked to an enormous chair in the corner. It was upholstered in a deep blue chenille fabric with a matching ottoman. He pulled me onto his lap and arranged me across his knees. I immediately snuggled underneath his chin while he wrapped his arms around me and held me tight.

“I do my best thinking in this chair, so I figured it would work for conversations too.”

I nodded against his shoulder but didn’t say anything.

“It seems like you’re having trouble with this topic, right?”

I nodded once again against his shoulder. He tightened his hold, and I felt ridiculously secure and warm in his arms. They anchored me.

“So I was thinking that maybe I can put into words what I’m thinking about the situation and then you let me know if you’re on the same page. That work for you, Sweet Boy?”

“Yeah.”

“I know I told you I usually play with middles, but that doesn’t mean I have any objections to playing with a little. Whatever you need to be—I want to be that Daddy for you. If you’re little, that’s okay. If you’re middle, that’s fine. If you’re some combination, still cool.”

“And you don’t think I tricked you?”

“I don’t understand why you think it’s tricking me. It’s not like you lied about something. You didn’t know, so it can’t be a lie. I don’t understand why you think I’d be bothered about you being more little than you thought. Can you explain that to me?”

“It’s just ’cause you said you play with middles, and then I wasn’t one suddenly. Maybe you were being nice ’cause I was in your house and you didn’t know how to get rid of me.”

Babbo’s arms tightened around me even more. I felt squished, but in the best way, like a warm, weighted blanket. It was exhilarating and amazing and scary as shit. He was making me think all sorts of things that didn’t make sense in my world, but I wasn’t ready to get off the merry-go-round. I liked the dizziness.

“I absolutely don’t want to get rid of you, and I know people who know a shit-ton more about littles than I do. If I truly wanted to figure out how to get you out of my house, I could’ve called one of them for help. Can I tell you a secret?” I nodded against his shoulder. “I really liked taking care of you yesterday.”

“You did?”

“Yeah, I liked it a lot, and I hope you’ll let me do it again.”

Now was the moment of truth. I needed to tell him how much I wasn’t commitment material. I knew to my soul that Babbo was an all-in kind of guy. We hadn’t actually talked too much about it, but I knew he wasn’t one for clubs and blowjobs in the restroom with random strangers. It wasn’t who he was, but it was me. I didn’t know how to be anyone else, and I wasn’t entirely convinced I wanted to be. Granted, the other day, it hadn’t worked out for me, but it could have been an off night. It’s not like everything about yourself could change just because you met someone.

“I told you in the beginning that I wanted a good time. That hasn’t changed.” I held my breath at what, I hoped, wasn’t a lie.

“You’ve always been clear about that. Sweet Boy, I’m not gonna lie and say I’ve ever had a fully and completely casual relationship, but maybe it’s time for me to try new things.”

“You’re not saying that just because it’s what I want?” My ego was getting out of hand, but I wasn’t cool about pushing Babbo into doing something solely because I wanted it.

“You are definitely a part of it because I enjoy what we do, but you’re not the entire reason. I went to that Christmas party because I had literally nothing else to do. Absolutely nothing. Owen was the person I hung out with the most, and obviously, he’s now busy with Barrett, as he should be. When I was with my ex, I sort of let all my other friendships drift away, and when we broke up, there was no one left around me, no one to return to. I realized I’d created this isolated life.” I started to rise, but Babbo’s arms tightened around me. “Relax, we’ve been broken up for close to a year. We were together for three years and never even lived together. No one is pining here.”

I settled back against Babbo to ask my next question. “I don’t want to get in your business, but was he into all this?”

Babbo’s response was a rueful chuckle. “He was absolutely not into this, but he didn’t mind if I went down to the club and had a scene or two to get it out of my system.”

“So it was an open relationship?”

“Open-ish. It was more of a ‘Don’t ask. Don’t tell’ situation. He wanted to know nothing about it and was explicit about that, but it was also his idea for me to go.”

“Did you take advantage of his offer?”

“In the beginning, yes. Toward the end, very infrequently. I didn’t want to be with someone else. I wanted to be with my boyfriend and share all parts of everything with each other. But he wasn’t into it, and it’s not something you can fake for long or well. It got to the point where I would rather do without than do it without him. And then we politely split up.” When he finished his explanation, Babbo fell into a contemplative silence.

I didn’t want to presume that I knew more about what he wanted out of his life than he did, but I was giddy at the possibility that he might be open to a…situationship. I wasn’t ready to give up my independence wholesale, but I also enjoyed being with him.

When Babbo was around, he soothed my frayed edges and allowed me to exist. I wasn’t required to be uber-confident or appropriately accomplished for my family. This weekend, he’d let me be the part of myself who wanted to play with earthworms, color pretty pictures, and watch silly movies. He let me be someone who existed without feeling like I had to be doing something more to prove myself to somebody.

“Where does that leave us?” I asked.

“I hope where that leaves us is enjoying each other’s company, agreeing not to be weird about the landlord situation, and having a lot more sex.”

“I’m so down for that.”