4. Anders #2
“I’ve never seen anyone who looks like they could benefit from a little possession, more than that kid.
To be honest, if he wasn’t so skittish, I’d have invited him up here to live with us.
I’ve been racking my mind trying to figure out how to convince him to take the permanent job we’ve offered him.
But I’ve never even managed to get him to come to dinner, let alone let us take him under our wing.
If I’m honest, you claiming him would be a huge fucking relief for me,” Penn admits.
“Apparently Parker gave him a ride home the other night, and his place is in a rough neighborhood,” I tell them both.
“Okay, what exactly are you planning on doing about that?” Beau asks.
“Fuck if I know,” I confess on a pained sigh. “Honestly, I don’t know if I can let myself claim him. I don’t want to ruin him, and I would. I’ve done it in the past, and I promised myself I’d never let it happen again.”
Both guys flash sympathetic eyes in my direction.
“We have an apartment over the garage that’s empty.
Since Parker hinted that the lack of affordable apartments in town was the reason why Henry hasn’t accepted the job we keep offering him, I’d already planned to suggest that he could have it free for six months as a signing bonus if he takes the permanent job for us,” Penn says.
“Is it safe?” I growl, hating the idea of him living anywhere but with me.
“It’s safe. It’s small and empty, but it’s safe, and it’ll do as a stopgap until you figure your shit out and take him home with you.”
“How much would the rent be after the first six months?” I ask.
“Cheap enough that he could afford to stay there and not have to worry about money,” Penn answers. “But I’m guessing that he won’t be there in six months…will he?”
Sighing, I shake my head. “Probably not. I just need to figure out if I can make him mine without destroying him.”
“I have no fucking clue if it was fate, or our family’s legacy, or just dumb luck that brought you and Henry together.
But I do know that since the day I realized Bonnie was mine and told her as much, things tend to work out.
If you know that Henry is yours, that’s probably because he is, and if he’s yours, I’m sure whatever you’re worried you might do to hurt him won’t be something he can’t handle. ”
Beau and I aren’t close, but in the year that I’ve lived here, my team has talked about his advice, and how he’s the voice of reason when it comes to all this love-at-first-sight bullshit.
As much as I hate to admit it, I hope that he’s right this time too.
I hope that whatever force brought me and Henry together knows what it’s doing.
That it didn’t give me perfection, only to take it away from me again.
After finishing my coffee, I leave the Barnetts, get in my car, and drive down into town, ready to pick my boy up and see just how bad his apartment is.
Instead of parking at the garage, I wait across the street, interested to see if my kitten will wait for me or if he’ll try to run after I told him I’d be driving him.
The fucked-up, dominant part of me hopes he tries to run, because I’m confident that chasing him would be a lot of fun.
But the sane and rational part of me knows he’s not ready for that yet.
He may never be ready to feel the full force of my dominance, and I have no idea if I’m capable of censoring that part of myself.
When six p.m. rolls around, I climb out of my car and lean against the door, watching for him to emerge. When I spot him, he’s walking with Parker, the two of them smiling as they chat.
Once they hit the sidewalk, Parker waves goodbye and turns toward the parking lot behind the garage. My kitten pauses, scans the street around him once then twice, before he pulls his cell from his pocket and taps at the screen.
I’d lay money on the fact that he’s checking to see if I’ve messaged him.
A relieved breath falls from my lips as I step out from my slightly hidden spot and emerge into the halo of the streetlight. “Henry,” I call.
His chin snaps up, and his expression becomes cautious as his eyes land on me. “Oh, hi,” he says, his voice meek.
Circling my car, I open the passenger door, holding it ajar as I tip my head and gesture for him to get in.
“Actually, I should.” Shrugging, he points down the street and away from me.
“You should get in the car,” I say, allowing a little growl to slip into my words.
He reacts to me beautifully. His shoulders straighten, and his lips part a little, like his body understands my order even if his mind isn’t so sure.
“I…” he starts.
“Get in the car, Boy,” I say, calling him boy instead of Kitten so he’ll start to learn the difference between the two nicknames. When I call him Kitten, I want him to know that I’m asking him to do something instead of telling him. When I call him Boy, it’s an order, not a suggestion.
His feet move before his brain catches up, and in moments he’s beside me, his wary gaze lowered to stare at the stuff I put on the seat for him.
“Should I put…” His voice trails off, but he gestures to the blanket, protein bars, and drink that are sitting on the passenger seat, then vaguely to the back seat.
“They’re for you.”
“I don’t…what?” he asks, clearly confused as he stares at the pile of stuff and not me.
Leaning into the car, I pick everything up and hold it in my arms. “In the car, Boy,” I growl, ensuring there’s not an inch of question in my words.
Without thought, Henry scurries into the seat, lowering his backpack to the floor between his feet. Leaning over him, I place the pile in his lap, then pull the seat belt across him and clip it into place.
Slipping the blanket from his lap, I spread it out over him, then open the soda and protein bar and hand them to him.
He takes them from me, but his gaze is so confused, I have to fight the urge to lean in and kiss him.
I want him…my boy, my kitten, more than I’ve ever wanted anyone else.
I want to kiss the confusion and doubt from his lips.
I want to own him and claim him, fuck him and protect him.
I want to dominate and coddle him. I just fucking want him, and even if I try to, I know that I won’t be able to stop myself from taking him, even if I shouldn’t.