Page 9 of Layla's Daddy

“Your city bus had a flat tire?” he asks incredulously.

“See? Even you don’t believe it.”

“I didn’t say that, Little one. I’ve just never heard of such a thing happening to anyone.”

“I’m bad luck, I tell you. You should take me home and wash your hands of me.”

“Well, I think you’re the best luck I’ve ever had, and I’m not taking you home. I’m going to give you some medicine for your headache and then order you some chicken noodle soup from the best restaurant in town. When you wake up, it will be here.”

My tummy growls, and my mouth waters. That sounds so good.

“Did you eat breakfast, Little one?”

I cringe. “No. I didn’t have time. I would have grabbed something at the restaurant when I arrived, but I was late, and then I got fired.” My shoulders droop at the reminder.

“How about if you change into this T-shirt while I go make you a nutritious drink. How does that sound?”

My tummy rumbles again.

Theo chuckles. “I’ll be right back.” When he stands, he kisses the top of my head before he leaves the room. Or have I imagined that part?

It takes me a minute to realize I need to hurry up and change before he gets back. I certainly don’t need him to see me naked. This is all entirely surreal.

I’m shaking as I stand, and I wince as I carefully lower the giant hospital pants down my legs. It’s impossible to see the back of my thighs, but I’m aware they are scraped up.

I drop the gown next and pull the T-shirt over my head seconds later. It nearly reaches my knees. I’ve needed to pee for over an hour, so I’m relieved to see there’s an attached bath in this room. I rush inside, use the potty, wash my hands, and I’m back on the bed, pulling the covers up before Theo returns.

Holy moly, he’s holding a bottle. Like the kind a baby would use with a nipple. It’s filled with a white liquid.

Theo sets the bottle and two smaller bottles of medicine on the nightstand, sits on the edge of the bed, and gently lifts myhead forward so he can tuck another pillow behind me, propping me up. “How young is your Little, Layla?”

I stare at the bottle as he lifts it and shakes it a bit. “I don’t know,” I murmur, eyeing the bottle.

“Do you ever use a bottle, Little one?”

I shake my head, which hurts and makes me wince.

“I bet you’ll like it. Bottles are perfect when you need to get some calories in bed or when you want to sit on Daddy’s lap.” He holds it out. “Try it?”

I tentatively reach out my hand.

He uses his other hand to gently lower my wrist. “Let Daddy do it, Layla.”

My heart races when he calls himself Daddy as if he weremyDaddy. It sounds so nice, but I won’t let myself think about the possibility. I’m already going to be very sad when this ends—and it will because I’m not lucky enough to find a forever Daddy. It would be dangerous for me to think of Theo as my Daddy, but it surely won’t hurt if I let him feed me, will it?

I lean back against the pillows and open my mouth.

Theo is so pleased; he beams as he pops the nipple between my lips. “It takes a second to get the hang of it. Wrap your tongue around the nipple, figure out what’s comfortable, and start sucking.”

I do as he says, and soon I’m sucking hard. Whatever is in the bottle is delicious, and I’m suddenly famished. It tastes like a vanilla shake. I wish the hole were larger so I could guzzle it.

Theo brushes a lock of hair from my face with his free hand. “Slow down, Little one. You’ll get a tummy ache if you drink too fast.”

I try to slow, but it’s so good. Eventually I start to drift off.

Theo jiggles the bottle. “Try to finish it, Layla. Then you can nap. I’ll check on you every half hour or so to make sure you’re still doing okay.”

Soon I’ve drunk enough for his satisfaction, and he gently eases the extra pillow away and helps me lie back. He carefully tucks the blankets around me and kisses my forehead.