Page 5 of Their Perfect Daddy

DANNY

I will be perfectly fine if I never attend another football related party in my life. It’s supremely embarrassing to know one of my favorite players, a man whom I have been crushing on for ages, not only saw me in my underwear, but he also thought it was disgusting.

Yeah, no.

Makes for a not so fun time.

Since I’m not sure how close Micah and Monty really are, I keep myself busy for the several days following the party. Everything Micah and I talk about is work related. I don’t let a single thing slip through the cracks.

It all works great. Business is good, and I feel confident enough time has passed for him to not drop a “so you and the lace, huh?” type of comment.

Except I realize that in the midst of my inner crisis, I might be missing something with my friend. His behavior has always been professional when we’re at work. Somehow, it’s become even more so.

And the man is checking his phone relentlessly. He must be waiting for someone to text him back. It makes me wonder…

“What’s going on with you?” I ask him one day when it all becomes too much.

As I suspected he would, his body goes tight. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

I shake my head and hop onto the counter. The position puts me in his line of sight. He can’t avoid me now.

“We both know that’s a lie, Micah. You’ve been different ever since we went to that football game. What has gotten into you?”

He backs away from me, his hands moving over his face as he replies, “It’s just…”

The bell above the door draws both of our attention. From the corner of my eye, I see Micah physically jerk at the sight of the visitor. Meanwhile, I shrivel up inside because I suspect I know exactly who it is.

What is he doing here? He’s never been here before. Please tell me this isn’t going to become a thing.

“Monty?” Micah practically whispers.

“Hey bro! I was in the area and wanted to come by.” He looks at his brother as he says the words, though I can tell he’s only half paying attention. I’d bet anything his eyes were on me right before Micah called his name.

“What are you two doing for lunch? I figured it could be my treat, and we could have something while you show me around this place a bit.”

I jump off the counter, snatching my keys along the way. “Just tell me what to get, and I'll go grab it. It'll save on delivery costs and everything.”

Micah covers up a laugh as Monty frowns at me. You’d think the guy was angry I wanted to save a few bucks. It’s not like I’m doing it for him. Nor is it because I’m escaping.

Nope. Not at all.

“Are you allowed to have pizza?” Micah asks him.

Monty smirks, his lip curling in a way that makes me hate myself a little. Why do I still find the man attractive? “Of course, I am. I work out plenty enough to eat a slice or two.”

Micah turns my way. I’m about to crawl out of my skin hoping the two of them can get this song and dance over with. I need to get out of here.

My friend tells me, “Grab a supreme, an extra cheese, and a sausage with half bacon. That should keep him going.”

I nod before taking the hundred-dollar bill Monty extends my way. It sucks to take his money, but I’m not going to complain. Especially when I see the way he deflates when I make sure not to touch him as I do.

Little victories and all that.

Since I’m in no hurry to get back to them, I head down the street to the local pizza place. I put in the order with Pete Sr., the magician behind the most delicious marinara on the planet, before going next door to grab snacks.

If Monty didn’t want me to spend all his money, then he should have given me a smaller bill. I can’t help it if the instructions were vague.

After grabbing a shopping basket, I weave through the aisles until I have enough sugar to last me a few days. I also throw in some salty stuff for Micah in case he’s feeling loose enough to join this feast on his brother’s dime.

You never know with him.

The young girl at the register raises her brow at my snacks, her judgment clear. She doesn’t say anything out loud as she rings me up, then loads my arms with the bags.

At the pizza place, Pete Sr. is just cutting them up as I walk in. He loads them on top of my haul once he’s done.

Navigating the sidewalk from there is a little tricky, but I manage. Mostly because people move out of the way when they see me coming.

It would be laughable if I weren’t afraid of dropping all this delicious food.

Thankfully someone spots me approaching the shop. A kind older man opens the door right as I get there, and I sweep in to put down all the food.

“All right, food’s here. What did I miss?” I ask the pair.

The brothers share a look. It leaves me feeling completely left out and slightly curious. Hopefully this wasn’t the moment Monty decides to bond with him by sharing our incident.

Micah shrugs. “Monty was just telling me about boring football stuff.”

Oh no he did not!

I can’t resist telling him exactly how I feel about his opinion.

“You know that football isn’t boring. We’ve talked about this so many times.

Do you have any idea the commitment it takes to run those plays?

The teams have to work together becoming a well-oiled machine to make passes and score.

It’s not something boring. It’s athleticism at its best.”

Taking a deep breath, I dive into a series of questions about the game we attended together. I know he was distracted by someone on the field, but I need to know how much he actually absorbed.

Will I need to go to another game with him just to ensure he pays attention this time? Or maybe we can watch it on tv instead? The second option keeps us away from his brother, who’s watching me intently.

“You should definitely come to another game with him,” the far too sexy man tells me. “You know, to make sure he’s aware of how awesome it really is.”

Ugh. That stupid smirk of his.

He’s reading my mind, and I don’t like it one bit.

I’d pout if I didn’t think he’d enjoy it too.

Turns out the two of them were plotting some type of Christmas surprise for the player Micah is interested in. I’d say I’m surprised, except it would be a lie. My boss is efficient to his core. If he can coordinate this to his benefit, he’s all in.

While Micah spends the majority of his time and energy planning this surprise, I keep my focus on the business we run together. There’s no need for things here to dwindle while he has other stuff going on.

Besides, I know how to handle everything anyway. With how he set it all up, it’s easy enough for one of us to take control of things should the other need to focus on a particular client.

As much as I would normally complain about my friend being distracted, I’m thankful for it. His own plans make it to where he won’t notice how different I’m acting or how I’ve completely avoided the topic of his brother since his last visit.

Monty is not someone I want to talk about.

He’s not even someone I want to think about.

Yet I find myself doing just that. When I’m home alone, I talk aloud to myself as I try to reason where everything went wrong. And while at work, it takes everything I have not to picture him swaggering through the door with a smirk and a wink for me.

With multiple small holiday events to attend to, you would think my schedule is jam-packed enough to forget about him. Sadly, it’s not. Monty is just that big of a personality.

I don’t know if I’ll ever forget him.

Groaning at my internal thoughts, I decide it’s time for a mini break. Micah is out of the office running errands today, leaving me to man the boutique. We’ve had a few customers stroll in. None were quite ready to set up a schedule for their event.

A quick flip of the ‘away’ sign on the door gives me the peace I’ll need to relax for a few minutes. Rather than checking the sports sites, I pull up one of my other comforts: online shopping.

My weakness for pretty things goes all the way back to childhood. While other boys wanted to play with GI Joe and make muddy messes of themselves, I was sipping tea and deciding which dress went best with Barbie’s skin tone.

The preference never really went away.

Now, instead of dressing up other people’s dolls, I’m doing it to myself.

I pull up my favorite site for lingerie, UnderYou , and scroll to the clearance section. Their prices aren’t horrid, but my addiction is real. Blowing half a paycheck on pretty undergarments isn’t unheard of in my world.

It’s why I have to be super selective of what I buy. I get a few full priced items once a month. The rest of the time, I scavenge through clearance items. If it’s a costume instead of lingerie, then I’ll even look for something secondhand at the thrift.

One cannot be picky when on a limited budget.

A few minutes of scrolling through the options calms the swirling emotions inside me. I smile as I spot a matching baby blue garter and babydoll top. It’s perfect for my collection.

In a flash, I click purchase for the gorgeous creation, going so far as to even splurge on rush delivery. There’s nothing quite like getting a package in the mail with something only you know about.

I don’t have anywhere to wear the new piece. There is no chance of me being caught the way I was with Monty. My lingerie addiction is a secret. No one else would understand me.

Well, almost no one else.

I’m aware there are other people who prefer these types of clothing to traditional masculine wear. I’ve just never met any of them.

Part of me longs to. It would be amazing to swap favorite shopping websites with someone. Oh! Or to text a friend when I spot a sale and think they might like an item.

What an amazing bond that would be.

I love having Micah in my life. He’s absolutely amazing. But he’s also my boss, which means there is no way I’m going to be all “hey, wanna see my pretty panty collection” with him. It would be too weird.

Knowing his brother could slip and tell my secret at any point is a deterrent enough. I don’t want anyone looking at me any differently.

A glance at the time tells me I have a few more minutes to my break. With nothing better to do now that I’ve gotten my shopping fix, I head to social media for a serotonin boost.

My feed consists of three main things: food inspiration, lingerie ads, and abstract thirst traps.

Yes, I’m aware the last one is strange. Though, it’s not as strange as it sounds.

For as much as I enjoy wearing something pretty under my clothes, I also love to watch the way the human body moves. Hands in particular are a weakness of mine. The way they flex and curve. The veins that sometimes bulge in a ridiculously sexy manner. All of it fascinates me.

Just as I start to think of how much I enjoy these types of videos, I notice my favorite account is live. I click the button to watch as I drop onto my stool at the counter. My legs are too weak at the thought of what new treat he’ll give his followers today.

TheLimitlessSkye has over ten million followers between all the platforms. He’s also got a private subscription account that I’ve wanted to sub to for ages.

It’s behind that paywall that he does his most intimate work taking requests for videos, sometimes offering audio clips, and being much more interactive with fans.

If the cost weren’t more than I could budget, I’d have been a member from the day it launched.

His socials are nothing but his hands and forearms. The footage cuts out before you see his face, which I think is part of the allure. Each video shows him doing some of the most mundane things. Reading, cooking, and getting dressed are some of the most popular.

The way his fingers turn the pages of a paperback.

Ughhhhh.

I bite my fist as I take in the live video feed in front of me. He’s doing exactly what I was just thinking about—reading a book. Except he’s not saying anything. Aside from some soft jazz in the background, it’s quiet.

The tension that comes as I wait for him to turn the page is criminal. My body is a live wire, eager for those long digits to casually stroke down the edge of the paper until he swipes it to the side.

Immediately I can picture said fingers roaming over my body in the same manner. I just know he’d take his time memorizing every inch of me.

My eyes close as the fantasy forms. I don’t need to see his hands to know exactly what they look like. I even have his tattoos memorized in case I ever run into him in person.

Granted, I have no idea where he lives or if the tattoos are even real. He wouldn’t be the first person to do something fake to gain attention on the internet.

Either way, I’m more than prepared to find him should I come across any sexy inked up hands in the future. If they’re out there, I’ll spot them.

A tinkling sound pulls me from the daydream about TheLimitlessSkye , reminding me I have to get back to work for the day. I give myself one more second to think about him as I silence my alarm, then I flip the sign back to ‘open’ and settle into work.

There will be time to obsess over those hands again later.