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CHAPTER 3

VINCE

Bear sends a text when he’s home safe and sound as promised. He accompanies it with “proof of life”—a photo of him tucked in bed, his red hair disheveled on a Lego-print pillowcase.

He really does love his Lego, doesn’t he?

It’s a cute quirk.

I wish him goodnight as I also head home, and it takes all the willpower in the world not to immediately send him a good-morning message when I wake up.

I tell myself I’m only so smitten because it’s been six months since I last got laid, so I’m horny as fuck. Putting someone like Bear in front of me is like plopping a wounded gazelle in front of a starving lion.

However, I can’t help but feel like we had a genuine connection. As a bisexual man, I’m used to the dumb jokes about how I’m attracted to everyone, but I’ve only ever felt deeply attracted to people I click with. Yes, sometimes that connection turns out to be fleeting, for one reason or another, but it still exists. And my time spent with Bear was the strongest connection I’ve felt with anyone since…well, if I’m being honest? Since I met Anson in college.

Even though Anson and I realized early on that our chemistry was purely platonic, it was still strong enough to set the foundations for a friendship that will last a lifetime. Last night, I felt stirrings of the same intense feelings, like my soul was reaching out to someone compatible.

It was more than Bear just ticking all my boxes, too. Sure, he’s cute and adorably na?ve, but he’s also funny and made me laugh. He’s also ridiculously sexy, with all of his coy, flirty “Daddy” comments which I’m sure were designed to drive me wild.

And they did.

Who would have thought that there’s an appreciation for daddy kink hiding inside me? Every time he spoke the word so sweetly, parting his plump, pink lips and batting ginger lashes at me, I swear my dick took extra interest.

Even now, I’m getting hard remembering it.

I resist the urge to reach down and rub one out, knowing I’ve got a thousand odd jobs to complete today. Gone are the days where weekends were relaxing. Instead, Sundays are spent doing laundry, groceries, and other chores which are wholly unappealing but are sadly necessary.

My phone stays silent all day, and I try not to feel too disappointed or hurt that Baron hasn’t reached out.

Maybe he’s waiting for me to make the first move , my brain supplies helpfully. He was really shy.

His shyness was part of his appeal. He was sugary sweet, and I spent enough time with him to conclude that it wasn’t an act. Then there’s how genuinely innocent and young he seemed…so, yeah, maybe he is waiting for me to take charge. That fits with daddy kink, right?

Right.

Decided, I slip my phone from my pocket, pulling up the app to text him. I drop the phone when it rings before I can type even a simple hey .

“Shit,” I curse, diving after the device. It clatters on the tiles, and I wince. It’s still ringing when I grab it and I sigh when I see it’s my mom calling.

“Hey Mom,” I greet, bringing the phone to my ear.

“Hi sweetheart,” she replies as if we didn’t talk a couple of hours ago. “I’m sorry to bother you after all, but your father’s just broken the lawn mower and?—”

“ I have not! ” I stifle a snort when Mom blithely ignores Dad’s indignant protest in the background of the call.

“—I’ve got my book club coming over for brunch tomorrow, so I was hoping we could borrow yours?”

I don’t hesitate. My parents only live half an hour’s drive away, just outside of the city limits, where properties sprawl a touch more generously. This is as good a distraction as any. “How’s about I come mow your lawn for you?” I offer. “I’ve got nothing else planned, and if you sweeten the deal with your famous pot roast…”

Mom laughs. “It’s a deal. I might even make some of those peanut butter cookies for dessert.”

“The ones with extra chocolate chips?” I’m salivating at the thought. All that gooey chocolate within the contrast of the salty, peanutty, chewy cookie is like heaven on earth.

“Yep. Those ones.”

I glance down at my soft middle and consider whether I need the calories. Then I tell myself I’m healthy and a few cookies won’t hurt. I’m a doctor: I know what I’m talking about. “On my way!”