6. King
SIX
KING
K ing sat at the clubhouse bar, one hand wrapped around a cold beer, the other resting on his phone. The screen was dark, but that didn’t stop him from staring at it, his fingers tapping absently against the worn wooden counter.
It had been four days.
Four days since the BBQ. Since he watched Ella drive away, gripping the wheel like she was afraid of whatever the hell was developing between them. Since she’d pressed herself into his chest during that hug, soft and warm, making itso damn hard to let go.
They hadn’t texted. Not other than her sending a message to say that she’d gotten home safely and him saying goodnight.
He’d been waiting. For what, he wasn’t sure. Maybe for her to reach out first. Maybe to see if his growing feelings for her would disappear because he barely knew the woman. He couldn’t possibly have such strong emotions for her already. It was a simple infatuation. Surely if he fucked her, those feelings would disappear like they always did with other women. But Ella was Little. Undeniably Little, and the last thing he wanted to do was hurt her or lead her on.
He picked up his phone again, thumb hovering over her name in his contacts. He could text her. It wasn’t a big deal. A simple, hey, how’s it going? would do. Or maybe something playful— did you survive off candy salad for the last four days, or did you cave and eat real food?
Fucking candy salad. Only Ella would think of something like that. Brightly colored and sugary. Just like her.
But every time he thought about hitting send, he hesitated.
And he never hesitated. It wasn’t his style.
A low chuckle sounded beside him. “Jesus, man. Just text her already.”
King turned his head, finding Gabriel dropping onto the barstool next to him, a beer in his hand, eyes glittering with amusement.
King grunted. “Didn’t say I was going to text her.”
Gabriel snorted. “Didn’t have to. You’ve been staring at your phone for days.”
King rolled his shoulders, taking a slow sip of his beer. Outside, a bunch of the Littles were playing in the yard. Giggling and chasing each other, completely lost in their own world. It was adorable, and he could picture Ella playing with them.
King found himself drawn to them, watching as Harper and Ivy knelt on the pavement, lost in another round of sidewalk chalk, while a couple of others squealed as they tumbled down the playground slide. It was peaceful here, familiar. But it wasn’t settling the tension winding through him because all he wanted was for Ella to be out there, too.
Gabriel followed his gaze, his smirk softening. “Why are you being so stubborn? You can have what we all have. I saw the way she looked at you.”
King arched a brow. “What?”
Gabriel glanced toward the Littles. “She looked at you like Eden looks at me. Like Ivy looks at Steele.”
King didn’t respond right away, just exhaled slowly through his nose. He’d thought that, too, but hadn’t wanted to assume.
Gabriel huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Text her. She’s waiting for you to take the lead. Little girls often struggle with making decisions. You know that. She probably wants to text you, but she’s second-guessing it. So quit being a wimp and take charge. Send that text.”
King clenched his jaw, taking another pull from his beer.
He wasn’t wrong.
There was something about Ella. Something he couldn’t shake, couldn’t get out of his damn head. She was soft but not fragile, sweet but not na?ve. She was playful in a way she didn’t even realize, and the way she had reacted to the club’s women at the BBQ? He had no doubt about her being Little. Which meant he needed to take the lead.
Gabriel leaned back, smirking. “Good luck. I’m gonna go push my girl on the swing before she has a full-blown tantrum that turns into her getting her bottom spanked.”
King laughed because as he looked out at the playground, it looked like Eden was already in the middle of a tantrum as she scowled at Gabriel and kicked her feet wildly trying to get the swing to move on its own.
With a long breath, he looked at his phone again.
And this time, he didn’t overthink it.
King:You eat any real food this week, dollface? Or you still surviving on candy salad?
As soon as he sent it, it was like he could finally breathe.
King barely had time to set his beer down before his phone buzzed in his hand. He smiled, already knowing it was her before even looking at the screen.
Ella:Excuse you, candy salad is a very sophisticated dish.
King huffed out a laugh, shaking his head.
King:Yeah? What’s the main course? Gummy bear stew?
There was a short pause before his phone buzzed again.
Ella:Don’t be ridiculous. Gummy bears are for dessert. The main course was a balanced meal of Goldfish crackers and a juice box.
King let out a low chuckle, running a hand over his jaw.
Christ, this woman.
King:And here I was, worried about your diet. Sounds like you’re thriving.
Ella:Oh, I am. Top-tier nutrition over here.
King:Guess I can stop losing sleep over it, then.
Ella:Wait… you’ve been losing sleep over me?
King paused for half a second. He could practically see the playful challenge in her words, the teasing tilt of her head as she waited for his response.
King:Maybe a little. Just don’t wanna be responsible for you passing out from a sugar crash.
A long pause. Then?—
Ella:I’ve only passed out from a sugar crash once today.
King huffed out a laugh, shaking his head.
She was trouble. And he really was worried about her nutrition. Especially after learning about her life in New York. It was possible she’d never cooked a real meal before.
King: You working tomorrow?
Ella:Yep! Gotta make copies, file things, be an all-around office rockstar. Why?
King:Because I’ll be coming in for my shift tomorrow morning, and I expect you to have eaten an actual meal before I get there.
Ella:Bold of you to assume I take orders from you.
King: You don’t.
Ella: Good.
King: Yet.
Ella didn’t reply right away. King smirked, knowing that message had probably got her flustered. He could practicallyfeelher overthinking her response.
A minute later, his phone buzzed again.
Ella: …Rude.
King chuckled, settling back against the bar.
King:Sleep well, dollface. Looking forward to seeing you tomorrow. Try not to dream of me too much.
This time, her response was instant.
Ella:Ha! You wish. Night, King.
King grinned.
Damn right, he did.
King stepped into the firehouse, his bag slung over one shoulder. His shift was about to start, but before he got to work, he had one stop to make.
Ella’s office.
She was already at her desk, typing away on her laptop. Her hair was pulled up in another high ponytail, and today’s outfit was just as soft and colorful as ever. An oversized pastel sweater and a skirt that barely brushed her knees.
She looked up when he approached, her lips parting slightly in surprise. “King!”
He grinned, setting a black plastic container down on her desk.
“What’s this?” she asked, eyeing it with curiousity.
“A true balanced lunch for Little girls.”
Ella’s entire body went still.
Her lips parted, but no words came out. A deep flush crept up her neck, her hands tightening on the armrests of her chair. She blinked at him, wide-eyed, caught somewhere between shock and something else. Arousal? Curiosity? He wasn’t sure.
King held her gaze. He wasn’t going to push her. Not yet.
After a long moment, she finally managed to find her voice. “…King.”
“Mhm?”
She narrowed her eyes slightly, a mixture of suspicion and interest. “…What’s in the container?”
He leaned down, bracing his hands on the desk, dropping his voice low enough for only her to hear.
“Chicken, rice, vegetables.” He paused before continuing, “And fruit snacks along with a juice box.”
Ella sucked in a sharp breath.
King grinned, straightening. “Eat it, dollface.”
She exhaled shakily, glaring at him even though her face was pink. “You’re bossy.”
“Yep,” he agreed easily.
Ella rolled her eyes, shaking her head. But there was no real heat behind it, only something warm and flustered.
King let the silence hang for a beat before he leaned in again, his voice quieter this time. “Let me take you out after the end of my shift on Friday.”
Ella’s breath caught.
“A date,” he clarified, in case there was any doubt.
She stared at him for a long moment, then finally nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Okay.”
“Good.”
“Thank you for lunch.”
King winked at her. “You’re welcome. Be good, Little one.”
Her blush deepened at the nickname, but she didn’t argue. When he glanced back at her, he was more than pleased to find her watching him as he walked away.
Over the next few days, while he was on shift, King and Ella spent nearly all their free time texting. The conversations were easy, full of teasing and playful banter, but every so often, they dipped into something a little deeper.
King:You ever gonna admit that I make better meals than you?
Ella:Never. I stand by my candy salad love.
King:That’s why you let me feed you real food, huh?
Ella:I let you because it makes you happy.
King smirked at that, leaning back on the firehouse couch, his thumb hovering over the screen before he typed his next message. It did make him happy that she ate the food he left on her desk whenever she was there.
King:So what makes you happy, dollface?
A pause. Then?—
Ella: Lots of things.
King:Like? I want to know you, Little one.
Another pause.
Ella:Coloring. Soft blankets. Bubble baths. Stuffies. Movies.
King’s chest tightened slightly.
King: That so?
Ella: …Yes?
He could almosthearthe uncertainty in her response, the nervous energy behind it.
He decided to push—just a bit.
King:What else do you like to do when you’re in Little Space?
This time, the pause was longer. King waited, watching the screen, knowing she was debating how much to say.
When her response finally came, it was hesitant but honest.
Ella:I don’t really… I mean, I never really called it that before. I don’t know if I really have Little Space.
King: You do.
Ella:…How do you know?
King:Because I see you, dollface.
No response.
King didn’t push.
A few minutes later, his phone finally buzzed again.
Ella:I like to color. And build puzzles. And drink from cute cups with those spouts. And I like soft things. And sometimes, I just like to be small.
King exhaled slowly, something settling deep in his chest.
King:That’s good, baby. You should get to feel small whenever you need to.
Another long pause.
Ella: Baby?
King: Yeah.
Ella:…I don’t hate it.
King: Good.