4. Augie
4
AUGIE
Well, that was an action-packed weekend. I’d met the nicest Daddy in the world, insulted him by not eating his pastries, had a fun time playing kites, swung on a swing, and then gorged myself on grapes and ruined it all.
I really was the king of making bad decisions.
I’d imagined so many ways our date could have gone and none of them involved me stuffing myself until I had to barf. At least I was able to hold it together until Dexter drove away. That was lucky because when I got sick, I got really sick. Like I needed a shower and a lot of alone time afterward.
Which I had. Lots and lots of alone time. Probably for the rest of my life because no one understood what it was like to have the kind of food issues I had. The kind that were in my head and my palate but not a biological sensitivity. Medically, I could eat anything I wanted. I wasn’t actually allergic to anything that I knew of. But there were a lot of flavors I didn’t like and even more smells that made me gag without even getting near the food itself.
No regular man wanted to be with someone who lived on white carbs and chicken for no real reason. And a chef like Dexter wouldn’t ever be happy with someone like me. Ethan was amused by Brayden’s food preferences when he was Little because Brayden was a good eater the rest of the time. But I was never a good eater. I liked bagels and white toast and plain pasta and French fries. I’d eat a salad a few times per week but only because my tummy had a different kind of pain if I didn’t eat any veggies. But I didn’t need variety or options or experimentation.
I liked what I liked, and that was oddly offensive to most people. Dexter deserved a boy who didn’t offend him.
The screen on my phone lit up with another text from Dexter. I hope you’re feeling better today, Little one?
My stomach fluttered from his concern, but I pushed the feeling down. After ruining our date, I didn't deserve his kindness. Yeah, I am.
There was so much I wanted to thank him for and apologize for, but none of that mattered now. We both needed to just move on. It was better that way, at least for Dexter, so I tossed my phone aside and tried to ignore how fast my heart raced from those few words of concern.
I'd spent the rest of my weekend moping and replaying how great our kite-flying date had been until I made myself sick. Now I just needed to forget Dexter entirely.
But as I curled up on the couch, wrapped up in a fuzzy blanket, all I could think about was how gentle Dexter had been with me. The way his strong arms had practically carried me to the car, cradling me against his broad chest. If I hadn't felt so sick, I could have savored that moment more. I could have appreciated the firm muscles beneath his soft skin and breathed in his warm, comforting scent so much more.
As I pulled up my nausea-tinged memories, my phone buzzed again. I didn’t want to look at it, but I couldn't help myself.
So glad you're doing better. I was worried about you. Can I bring you some soup later?
I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting the urge to say yes. Everything in me wanted to let Dexter sweep in and take care of me like he was my Daddy and I was his boy. But I wasn't the sweet boy he deserved. And I couldn’t hide my food issues if he was constantly trying to feed me things I couldn’t eat. No, thanks. I'm fine.
His response came back almost instantly, like he had anticipated my response. Augie, it's no trouble. I'd feel much better if I could check on you for myself.
Thank you, but I’ll call Brayden if I need anything. Take care. I tossed my phone across the room, ignoring the pang in my chest from truly ending things with Dexter before they even had a chance to get started. It was better this way. Dexter would realize soon enough that I wasn't worth his time.
Tears streamed down my cheeks as I huddled under my blanket. I couldn't stop thinking about how safe I'd felt in Dexter's arms. He would have done anything for me, even after making a mess of his perfect date. I dozed off with pretend words of comfort floating in my mind.
"It's okay, little one. Daddy's got you." Even though I knew it was just a dream, I wanted so desperately to believe it was real. The fantasy of having a Daddy like Dexter had started to take root, and it wasn’t easy to let that go.
I jolted in that weird stage between being asleep and awake. Those dreams about having a happy ending with Dexter felt silly and childish now. That wasn’t how my story would end. I wasn't meant to have a Daddy to cuddle me and make everything better, at least not one as kind as Dexter.
My eyes opened and went straight to where my phone lay silent on the floor. Part of me longed to pick it up and beg Dexter to come over. I wanted to let myself be vulnerable with him to see if he really meant all those sweet things he'd said.
But I knew better.
Eventually Dexter would see the real me. The parts that were damaged and difficult to accept. The parts that made other men want to hurt me. It was better to push him away now before either of us got too attached.
I pulled the blanket over my head and tried to block out thoughts of Dexter's gentle touches and silly words. I tried to forget how badly I wanted to curl up in his lap and let him put all my broken pieces back together.
But I couldn't quite silence the tiny part of me that wondered if maybe he was different. What if Dexter was strong enough to handle all my issues and not get mad because of them? What if he really did want to be my Daddy?