7. Milo #2
“How does the whole daddy thing work for you? I’ve only read it in books, and they’re mostly written by women, and it can feel formulaic. I always thought it was more nuanced than that.”
“It is,” said Patrick, looking unperturbed by Milo’s question. “You respond to what the boy needs, not what the daddy wants. That’s the most important thing. It’s always about them.”
“So, they don’t have to ask permission to go out, or have you text them reminding them to eat?”
“Some do that and have a full-time arrangement; others just keep the dynamic to the bedroom. Then there are a lot of variables in between those two extremes. You need to ask the boy what he needs, and be able to pick up on any cues when he’s too shy or embarrassed to say what he really wants.”
“I never thought of it like that. So in a way, the boy holds the power?”
“Exactly right, and anyone who thinks differently is not a real Daddy.”
Milo had more questions, but he didn’t want to risk upsetting his boss by reminding him of his late husband.
He wondered who this new guy was Patrick seemed smitten by, even if he tried to brush it off as something he didn’t think would go anywhere.
Milo hadn’t intended to ask that question at all, but he was curious about the dynamic.
Given that he liked to be in complete control when he was in the bedroom, he wondered if that was his kink.
He’d explored whether he was a Dom before, and knew that wasn’t him.
There was a part of him concerned about Eddie hiding a big part of who he was from the world and wanting to help him any way he could.
Although their situation was unique, he still felt a connection to the guy like nothing he’d ever experienced with anyone else.
There was this urge to fix everything for him, but whether that was in Eddie’s best interest, he wasn’t sure.
He didn’t think a daddy was what he was, but he still wanted to know Eddie’s story.
He couldn’t help it, he was a nosy bitch, but he cared about Eddie as well.
Patrick’s phone pinging pulled Milo out of his thoughts. He looked at it, his eyebrows raising.
“What is it?” asked Milo.
“There’s an article about Eddie Chivington using a transphobic slur.”
“What the fuck?” he said, pulling out his phone to find the news alert. “Wait a minute, did you just call him Eddie?”
“I’ve interviewed the prime minister a few times, and she has referred to him that way. Must have got stuck in my brain . . . Milo, are you okay? You’ve gone pale.”
Milo wasn’t sure what to think. He’d been joking earlier, but could he have been right? Edward Chivington was a silver fox, possibly closeted, and well-spoken. No matter how much he tried, Eddie wasn’t fooling Milo with his put-on accent. There was no way they could be the same person, could they?
“Milo, are you okay?”
“Sorry, I just . . . suddenly I don’t feel very well.”
“Let me get the bill and I’ll get you home.”
Milo wanted to protest that he was fine and just needed some fresh air, but he needed to know if he was right or not. He hoped he was wrong, because if his Eddie was Edward Chivington, he didn’t know what he was going to do.
“The deputy prime minister is my fuck buddy!”
“Good evening to you too, Milo,” said Lexie, opening the door wide for him.
“What am I gonna do?”
“I’m missing part of the story here, babes. Do we need wine?”
“Yes, lots of wine. All the wine.”
Lexie jerked her head towards the sofa and went into the kitchen.
Milo kicked his shoes off and took a seat, his head spinning.
Not wanting to see any of his flatmates, he’d spent the afternoon in a coffee shop researching Chivington, and cross-referencing it with the small nuggets of information Eddie had shared over the past couple of months.
He’d also done something he wasn’t proud of, but he had needed to be certain.
Lexie walked in with two large glasses of white wine and passed one to him before joining him on the sofa.
He took a huge gulp of wine, draining half the glass.
It was lovely and cold. The fruitiness of the wine was perfection on his tastebuds.
If there was one thing Lexie was good at, it was picking wine.
That was unfair. Lexie was good at a lot of things.
“Start from the beginning and leave nothing out.”
“Er . . .”
“I don’t need to know those details. You shared enough with me after the first time, so I’ve got the gist,” she said, smiling, which made Milo squirm a bit with embarrassment. “I mean, what do you talk about after you both cum?”
“Wow. Not being subtle, I see.”
“When have I ever been subtle? Why do you think Edward Chivington and back-room Eddie are the same guy? It’s not like Eddie is a rare name.”
“They’re both the same age.”
“I thought you said guys lie about their age on the app.”
“Maybe Eddie’s like me and gives his proper age.”
“Aww. That’s so sweet.”
He glared at her, and she burst out laughing.
“If you’re done. His profile name is silver fox, which Edward Chivington definitely is, and he said he can’t be out because of his job. Plus, I found out the prime minister calls him Eddie, so he uses that name. It all fits.”
“Is that it?”
“I may have done some fact-checking.”
“Like what?”
“Look, I don’t feel good about this, but I had to know,” he said, not looking at her.
“What did you do, Milo?”
“I found an interview with him from a couple of years ago where they did one of those rapid-fire things. You know, favourite colour, food, music, film, and all that. I messaged Eddie on the app and asked him. They all match.”
“Ah.”
“That’s all you’ve got to say?”
“I’m processing.”
“Well, do it quicker. I need advice. What the fuck am I supposed to do?”
“You can’t out him. You’d never be able to live with yourself.”
“Of course I’m not gonna out him. Even if he made that transphobic comment. Did you see that?”
“What? The idiotic comment he made twenty years ago at university? Hargreaves made his on live TV this summer, and not only was it far worse, but he wouldn’t apologise and is using it to get the party leadership.”
“Are you defending Eddie for what he said?”
“Milo, it was twenty years ago. People make mistakes. At least let the guy explain himself first. You’re sounding like Kieran.”
“Bitch!”
“Put the comment aside until we know more. Do you want to keep seeing Eddie, if it is him?”
“I can’t. There’s no way. Imagine if Kieran found out.”
“Fuck that judgmental bitch. Do you want to keep seeing Eddie or not?”
Milo was torn. In his heart, he knew he wanted to keep seeing Eddie, but how was that even possible?
He’d never even seen his face, although obviously he now knew what he looked like.
Their amazing chemistry might only apply to the bedroom, and the dark for that matter.
What if when their eyes met the connection wasn’t there?
And could Milo be with someone who was closeted?
It wasn’t like he could hide who he was, and why should he?
“I can hear your brain catastrophising from here,” said Lexie.
“There’s no way we could ever work. Say he can explain that comment away. It changes nothing. He’s in the closet, and even if he came out, he’s the favourite to be the next prime minister.”
“Ooh, you could be the UK’s First Lady!”
“That’s not a thing.”
“I’m sure you would make it your own.”
“I can’t. I just can’t be in a world where I can’t be myself.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’ve already done it.”
She looked at him suspiciously. “What have you done, Milo?”
He took out his phone, opened the app and passed it to her. She looked at the grid of faceless torsos, looking confused.
“What am I looking for?”
“What’s missing?”
She looked at it for another few seconds before the comprehension dawned on her face.
“You blocked him?”
Milo nodded tearfully. Before he could say anything, Lexie pulled him into a hug. He knew he didn’t have a choice, but that still didn’t make the pain any easier.