Chapter 15
FIFTEEN
TRAVIS
Daddy
Did you remember to take a break today?
Casey
When don’t I?
Like almost every day. So that’s a no?
Maaaaaaaaybe
Bub, everyone needs a break.
Stop being logical.
I can’t help it. It’s what I do. It’s what I live for.
Yeah, yeah.
Drink some water and make sure you breathe for a sec.
I will.
Promise?
Promise.
Good boy.
“Dessert for anyone tonight?” Margaret, the usual night server, asked as she tapped her pad a little impatiently.
College students had already flooded back into town for late-night hangouts, and she didn’t have the patience for us to sit around and waste her time.
We all shook our heads, and she slapped the bill down without ceremony, reminding us to pay at the front when we were ready.
The Daddies had invited me into their circle without hesitation, and I appreciated it more than I wanted to admit.
They’d asked if I wanted to join them for a dinner out while their boys worked on the planning committee for yet another Christmas party.
Gabe had given me the overly long, complicated name, and I’d promptly forgotten it, but I did accept the invitation.
The coffee cup I cradled in my hands had long since gone cold, but I sipped it anyway.
Anything was better than nothing when it came to keeping my hands occupied.
“You’ve been awfully quiet tonight. Everything okay between you and Casey?” Reed asked. His perceptive eyes bored into mine, and I didn’t bother trying to lie. I’d hoped I could pass off my mood as tired, but apparently, my acting wasn’t up to par.
“Truth or lie?”
“We always want the truth,” Levi said gently.
“About a week ago, Casey got a text from a friend up in Alaska.” I stopped myself before I said more. I didn’t want to put the fear into the universe. Saying things aloud sometimes made them real, and I wasn’t manifesting that.
“Okay…?” Barrett asked, confusion written all over him. “Are you one of those assholes who gets upset if your boy has friends? Because if so, good fucking luck with that.”
“No, I’m not that particular asshole—though I’m sure I could be another version. The problem is that the friend offered him a job. Starting after Christmas. In Alaska.”
A chorus of “shit” and “that sucks” went around the table, but no one jumped in with solutions. Unfortunate. I thought Daddies were supposed to be fixers.
“Have you told him you want him to stay?” Gabe asked.
“Not in so many words. But I feel like he could be happy here. With me. With his friends.” I looked at Barrett.
“You know that beer-garden idea we talked about behind the bar? Total coincidence straight out of a romance novel, but Casey has a secret dream of starting a food truck. Seems perfect, right?”
“Wait— Casey wants to cook?” Barrett said. “You can never have too many good people in the kitchen.”
“Slow your roll, buddy,” I told him dryly. “Casey doesn’t want to be stuck in a kitchen where he can’t see anyone. He likes people. He wants to talk, visit, charm—do his Casey thing. That’s why he wants a truck.”
“His Casey thing is impressive,” Barrett said. “If he leaves, my customers are gonna riot. They’ll follow him through Canada because they seriously love that guy.”
“Yeah, I know the feeling.”
I meant it as a joke, but the truth of it sank low in my gut.
I loved Casey. His heart, his humor, the quiet way he was protective of everyone, how he observed everything, even if he didn’t always say it unless you asked.
I loved his jokes and how he liked cute shit even when it still secretly embarrassed him.
I loved him when he was in a little state of mind, and I loved taking care of him.
Hell, I’d be hard-pressed to think of anything I didn’t love about him. Even his stubbornness was cute.
Shit. I had it bad.
“Levi, I think this is your area,” Gabe said. “You know something about skittish boys.”
“I do,” Levi said. “And I’m well aware that what I’m about to say is cheesy as hell and sounds like a bad movie, but…you have to be willing to let him go.”
I stared at him, jaw slack. That was it? That was the grand advice? Let him go? We’d all seen the motivational posters. If you love something, blah blah blah. But how the hell was that supposed to help me?
“Dude, are you fucking serious?”
“Yep. Sure am.”
“That doesn’t feel helpful,” I retorted, making no attempt to hide my irritation.
“It is,” Levi said calmly, “because when you let him go, you also make sure he knows you’re his soft place to land. His safe place to come back to. And that if it were up to you, you’d have him stay. Maybe forever.”
“Definitely forever,” I muttered.
“Then you need to show him that,” Levi said. “Be that place. Make it clear. But he has to know it’s his decision. His choice. Always.”
“Well, this took a deep fucking turn,” I said, shaking my head.
“Welcome to being a real-life Daddy,” Gabe cackled.
“It kinda sucks.”
“Damn, that smells good.”
I’d spent the past two weeks showing Casey every damn thing I could about why I wanted him to stay without actually saying the words.
I wasn’t foolish enough to think he hadn’t already started mentally packing after that text came in.
His whole perspective shifted in a split second.
We might’ve still been sitting in the cab of my SUV, his hand in mine, but he’d been a million miles away.
After dinner with the Daddies, I had a clear decision to make.
I could let him float off without saying anything, or I could make it known that I wanted him to stay because I wanted to be his actual Daddy.
I could wait forever if I had to, but I knew he wasn’t there yet.
That was fine. I could wait for him to catch up.
Who was I kidding? I wanted him to stay. There wasn’t really a question. I needed him to stay because he was exactly what I needed to become the Daddy I wanted to be, and I sure as shit didn’t want to be a Daddy to anyone but him. But I’d waited this long. I could wait longer.
“It’s taco meat. How could it smell bad? Everything about it is delicious.” Casey glanced over his shoulder at me while he stirred spices into the meat sizzling in the pan.
When I’d invited him over, I hadn’t expected him to cook me dinner, but I didn’t mind accepting the offer when he made it. He put me to work chopping onions, lettuce, and tomatoes while he seasoned the beef and mixed masa to make tortillas by hand.
“Homemade tortillas at home are wild,” I said as I moved in to nuzzle his neck. His soft sigh told me to keep going.
“They aren’t that hard. But I don’t have a machine to flatten them, so if you don’t mind weird edges, they work.”
“Lucky for you, I happen to love weird edges.”
Casey laughed like I hoped he would and turned back to the stove.
I couldn’t get enough of touching him now that I knew he was halfway out the door. I wanted to tie a string around his wrist and keep him tethered to me, but that would send him running faster than anything. I had to give him a reason to stay, even when my nerves made me push too hard.
“You thought any more about that Alaska offer?” I asked.
Casey stilled. His breathing went shallow.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“Just throwing it out there,” I said quickly. “No pressure. But…if you want to cook, there’s a food truck being delivered in January to the bar. It’s ready for a new occupant.”
“Daddy…” Casey sighed. “Why are you having a food truck delivered? Please tell me this isn’t about what I told you.” His voice was tight—hope and trepidation wrapped together.
“No…not directly.” I stepped closer. “You said it, and yeah, I hoped—still hope—you’d want it.
But we need it either way. I’m renovating the back in the spring.
Beer garden, simple food, nothing fancy.
Expansion means feeding people. So the truck was happening no matter what. But yes. I want you in it.”
“I still don’t know if I’m staying.”
“I know. But it’s an option. One that I hope you’ll think about.”
“What about dating your employees?” he asked, giving me a skeptical look.
“You know, the more I thought about that rule, the dumber it sounded. We don’t have that rule anymore.”
“That seems very convenient for you,” Casey said with a soft chuckle.
The look he gave me said he didn’t believe me for a second. Fair. It was convenient as hell. I just wasn’t letting one of my own dumb rules stand between Casey and me.
“After dinner, wanna pull out some toys and watch a movie?” I asked.
It had been weeks since Casey had allowed himself some time in little space.
I suspected he was creating distance between his little self and his Daddy, but I wasn’t a therapist, and I wouldn’t psychoanalyze him.
I just knew every offer for play, club nights, or outings got turned down.
But he never refused hanging out, the gym, or being with me in big headspace.
The only place he let his little self out was at night, getting ready for bed.
Then he became clingy in the sweetest way.
He wanted his Daddy to brush his teeth, help him into pajamas, and talk him through the bedtime routine.
Once he was under the blankets, he asked for a story in that soft voice.
I’d been reading him things off my phone, but I’d tracked down his favorite books for Christmas.
I didn’t know if I’d get to read them to him, but I hoped he’d accept the gift.
“Sure, I’d be down for a movie.”
“A Christmas one, I hope.”
“If that’s what you want. I kinda had my heart set on Die Hard, but it’s up to you.”
“I was thinking the cartoon Grinch, unless you really want explosions.”
“The Grinch is good too,” he said with a small smile.
Skipping the toy part was deliberate. We both knew it.
It killed me that he wouldn’t let himself accept comfort from his Daddy when he needed it most. Even if he chose to go, there was no reason not to let himself have comfort now.
But a cartoon was still a step in the right direction—more than he’d allowed himself in the last two weeks.
I stepped forward to grab plates and kissed his cheek. He swayed into me, like he couldn’t hold his own weight for a second.
“I can’t wait,” I said softly. His hair had gotten long and was falling into his eyes. I brushed it back, and he pressed into my hand. “You tired, bub?”
“I am, Daddy. Really truly.”
“I wish you’d let me take some burdens off you.” Casey closed his eyes but didn’t answer. “It would be my absolute pleasure.”
“Thank you, Daddy,” he whispered as he wrapped his arms around my waist and held on tight.
Words weren’t needed. He and I both knew the decision was made, but only time would tell which way.
Damn, I wanted him to pick me.
“Daddy, I’s sleepy,” Casey murmured as he pressed his head to my shoulder.
I was propped in the corner of the couch, and he was sprawled half on top of me, his face tucked into my neck.
I had no idea how he could still see the movie, but it didn’t matter.
The exhaustion finally loosened his grip on the world, and he let himself relax for the first time in days.
The closing credits of The Grinch played in the background, but he was two heartbeats away from crashing.
“I think it’s time for bed,” I said softly. “Let’s get you in the shower, and then we’ll put on pajamas and tuck you in, okay?”
He didn’t answer aloud, just nodded and stood, waiting for me to follow. I kissed his cheek and asked him to wait in the doorway while I turned off the lights and checked the front door.
“Daddy?”
“Yeah, sweetheart?”
“You wanna take a shower with me?” Casey asked it like I might say no, which was wild. I would never say no to taking care of him. Ever.
“Yeah, I can do that.”
I took his hand and led him into the bathroom.
I flipped the shower to his preferred temperature, then undressed him piece by piece.
Tonight, he didn’t lift a finger to help.
He just stood there, trusting me, his eyes droopy with exhaustion.
I wanted more than anything to take every burden from him, but I knew he’d pull away if I tried too hard.
“I’m coming, bub. Just a second.” I guided him into the warm spray and grabbed the loofah, gently scrubbing him down. He stepped forward to rinse, quiet and pliant.
“Have I ever told you that you’re the only person I’ve ever known who washes their hair second?” I teased.
He smiled faintly and shook his head. “How you know? You ask them?”
The soft teasing lit a small flare of hope in my chest. I tried not to let it burn too bright. The disappointment would gut me if I did.
“I don’t,” I said, massaging shampoo into his scalp. “Feels like something that’d come up in conversation though.”
Casey tipped his head back into my hands, letting the water wash over him.
The little sighs and soft noises he made filled the shower.
They didn’t make me hard. As beautiful as he was, this wasn’t about getting off.
This was about caring for him. He sure as hell didn’t need my dick distracting him when he was this tired.
“You have strange conversations, Daddy.”
“I surely do, bub.”
When he was clean, I washed and rinsed quickly, then hustled him out of the shower.
He stood on the bathmat dripping everywhere, making no move to dry himself or get dressed.
He was fully in little space, wanting care, and I was happy to give it.
I toweled him off, detangled his hair, and helped him into his briefs—spaceships tonight—and his pajamas, an astronaut suit of course.
Then I guided him to the sink to brush his teeth.
Casey looked so small in my bed, snuggled under the midnight-blue duvet pulled up to his chin. The king-size mattress with pillows propped up under him swallowed him, made him look lonely in a way I hated. I slipped under the covers beside him and grabbed my phone.
“Any requests, sweetheart?”
“You pick, Daddy.”
After a quick scroll, I found one I knew he loved and opened it. For the next fifteen minutes, we followed Big Nutbrown Hare and Little Nutbrown Hare through all the ways they loved each other. Casey mouthed the words as I read. We’d gone through this book dozens of times.
When we finished, he whispered, “Thank you for everything, Daddy. Everything.”
He wasn’t mine. But the way he curled into me, the way he trusted me with every small, sleepy piece of himself. God, I hoped he’d stay long enough to see what we could be or changed his mind. My gut told me he’d made a decision.
It wasn’t me.