19. Bodie
Bodie
“ Hmmm ,” I say, slowly coming to. “I slept… well.”
The safehouse bedroom is soft with morning light, sneaking through the cracked blinds like it’s tiptoeing just for me.
Henry must have moved me here after I fell asleep. Which is great because the couch wouldn’t be ideal for a whole night’s sleep.
I’m sprawled in the bed, tangled in the sheets, Poot’s tusk poking my cheek and Billy’s sunglasses glinting where he’s propped against my pillow.
The ocean’s rumble is faint outside, a steady lullaby, but my heart’s doing flips, and it’s not just from last night’s stuffy beach party with Richie or the bedtime story that sent me drifting into Little Space.
It’s him.
Henry.
The big, grumpy Daddy who’s got me all twisted up, my Little side glowing and my grown-up side scared of what my heart is trying to tell me.
I hug Poot tighter, his worn fur soft against my chest, and let myself admit it: I’m falling for Henry…
Hard .
Like, wipeout-on-a-ten-footer hard.
The way he watched me surf, the way he held me after that crazy-hot moment in the living room, his promise to protect me from Vince—it’s all too much and not enough.
I want more.
Henry’s gravelly voice calling me “Little One” and that Daddy look in his dark eyes make me feel safe, seen, like my Little side isn’t something to hide.
But there’s a knot in my gut, heavy as a rogue wave, whispering that this can’t last. Henry’s a Guard, a black-ops badass who lives for danger.
Once Vince’s dealt with, once I’m not a mission anymore, he’ll leave.
He’ll head off to some jungle or desert, and I’ll be just a memory, a surfer boy he saved and kissed senseless—if I’m lucky.
Urgh . I’m overthinking. I know I am.
“Stop it, Bodie,” I mutter, burying my face in Poot’s fur. “Don’t be a dummy.”
But the fear’s there, sharp and real. I trusted Vince, let him in, and he used my Little side against me, threatened to expose it to keep me trapped.
Henry’s different—I feel it in my bones—but what if I’m wrong again? What if I let myself fall, call him Daddy for real, and he’s gone before I can paddle back to shore?
Billy’s staring at me, his sunglasses all judgy, like he’s saying, Get it together, boy.
I sigh, tugging Henry’s t-shirt—still draped over me from last night—closer to my nose. It smells like him, salt and something warm, and my Little side hums, wanting to stay in this bubble forever.
But the grown-up part of me knows today is big .
Henry’s got a plan to trap Vince, something about the pier and Shred as bait, and it’s gonna be dangerous. I need to be brave, not some lovesick kid mooning over a Daddy who might not stick around.
And luckily for me, I think that I’m about to be pulled out of my overthinking before I get any deeper…
“Bodie! Breakfast, Little One!” Henry’s voice bellows from the kitchenette, deep and warm, pulling me out of my spiral.
My heart does that stupid flip again, and I giggle despite myself, my Little side perking up at his call.
I roll out of bed, scooping up Poot and Billy, and pad barefoot across the creaky floor, Henry’s t-shirt swamping my frame like a cozy extra-large beach towel.
The kitchenette smells like coffee and something sweet, and there’s Henry, standing at the counter with his back to me, his black tee stretched over those shoulders that could probably carry Shred single-handed.
He’s flipping pancakes—actual pancakes, not just jerky or gummies—and there’s a plate of cut fruit, a jug of juice, and my grape soda, because of course he remembered.
My chest tightens, warmth spreading through me.
Henry’s so calm, so steady, like Vince’s men and this whole mess are just another Tuesday. It’s exactly what I need.
“Morning, Daddy,” I say, the word slipping out soft and natural, my Little side taking the wheel. I blush, clutching Poot, but Henry turns, his dark eyes softening, a smile tugging at his lips. “ Umm , I mean… Henry.”
“Morning, Little One,” Henry says, his voice all gravelly Daddy goodness. “You sleep okay after that story?” He points to the table, where two plates are set, one with a pancake shaped like a wonky heart. “Sit. Eat. We’ve got a big day.”
I plop into the chair, setting Poot and Billy beside me, and grab a fork, my stomach growling.
“You made heart pancakes?” I tease, poking at the lopsided shape, my Little side giggling. “Didn’t know super-spy Daddies could cook.”
Henry chuckles, sliding into the chair across from me, his coffee mug dwarfed in his big hands.
“Don’t get used to it,” Henry says, mock stern. “Pancakes are only for good boys who don’t sneak out to surf.”
Henry arches his eyebrow, and I stick out my tongue, warmth blooming in my chest at his teasing.
We eat, and it’s easy, like last night’s giggles with Richie or our banter.
But Vince’s shadow looms, and I can’t ignore it. I set my fork down, my voice quieter…
“Henry… about Vince,” I say. “This plan with the pier, using Shred… it’s gonna work, right? He’s not gonna hurt you, or… or get me?”
My Little side peeks out, scared, and I hate how small I sound. But luckily for me, I’ve got a Guard on my side, and he knows how to read me and put me at ease.
Henry’s eyes lock on mine, steady as a lighthouse.
“Bodie, listen to me,” Henry says, his voice firm but warm, that Daddy edge grounding me.
“Vince’s a coward hiding behind his hired guns.
But he’s got an ego. Most assholes like him do.
Our plan’s solid—Cole, Connor, and me, we’ve done this before.
We’re drawing him out, and when he shows, we’ll take him down.
He’s not touching you, not ever again. You’re mine to protect. ”
Henry reaches across, his hand covering mine, warm and strong, and I believe him, my fear easing just a bit.
“Okay, Daddy,” I whisper, squeezing his hand back, my Little side clinging to his promise. “I trust you.”
And I do trust him, more than I thought possible, even with that knot of fear about him leaving.
Henry nods, his thumb brushing my knuckles before he pulls back, sipping his coffee.
“Good boy,” Henry says, and my cheeks flush, my Little side glowing.
“Now, before things get heavy, I’m thinking we take an hour to relax.
It’s actually what I always like to do before shit gets real.
So, in a way, it’ll be like you’re an honorary Guard.
Anyway… you’ve been brave, and my Little deserves some fun. ”
My eyes widen, excitement bubbling up.
“ Fun ? Like what?” I ask, bouncing in my seat, Billy nearly toppling off the table.
Henry grins, standing to grab something from the counter—a coloring book, the ocean-themed one I picked out yesterday before we had to bolt.
“Thought we’d color together,” Henry says, setting it down with a pack of crayons. “Keep that Little side happy. Cole and his boy picked it up for us, along with some food. What do you say?”
I squeal, clapping my hands, pure Little Space joy taking over.
“Yes, yes, yes!” I say, scooting my chair closer to his. “A million times yes! You’re gonna color too, Daddy? Like, with me?”
I can’t believe it—this big, tough Guard coloring ocean scenes with me. It’s too perfect. I just hope Henry wants to get involved too. That would be everything.
“Damn right,” Henry says, his voice playful but with that Daddy authority. “But you gotta share the crayons, Little One. No hogging the blue ones.”
Henry winks, and I giggle, already flipping open the book to a page with dolphins and waves.
We spread out on the table, crayons scattered like treasure, and I dive in, my Little side fully in charge.
I pick a sparkly blue for a dolphin’s fin, my tongue poking out as I focus, Poot and Billy watching like proud coaches.
Henry’s beside me, his big hands surprisingly gentle as he colors a wave, his green crayon moving slow and deliberate. He’s not just humoring me—he’s in it, his brow furrowed like he’s planning a mission, and it’s the cutest thing ever.
“Daddy, you’re good at this,” I say, peeking at his wave, all swirly and perfect. “But you gotta add some sparkles. Waves need sparkles!”
I shove a glitter crayon at him, and he laughs, the sound deep and warm, making my heart flutter.
“Sparkles, huh?” Henry says, taking the crayon, his fingers brushing mine. “Alright, but only because my Little says so. Don’t go telling Cole or Richie about this!”
Henry adds a glittery edge to the wave, and I clap, my Little side over the moon.
“Richie is really nice,” I say, keeping my focus on the page.
“He sure is,” Henry replies. “He and Cole are very happy together. So… I guess it can work. You know.”
I smile but can’t get any words out—maybe it’s nerves or not wanting to risk spoiling the moment, but I simply get back to coloring.
We color for ages, the world shrinking to just us, the scratch of crayons, and the ocean’s hum outside. I draw a walrus that looks like Poot, giving him a surfboard, and Henry draws a duck with sunglasses, totally Billy.
“Look, Daddy, it’s us!” I say, pointing at our stuffy drawings, and he grins, his eyes soft.
“Damn good team,” Henry says, ruffling my hair, and I beam, my Little side soaking up his praise.
He guides me, too, suggesting colors or showing me how to blend them, his voice all Daddy—firm but kind, like he’s teaching me rules that keep me safe.
“Try the purple here, Little One,” he says, pointing to a coral reef. “Makes it pop.”
I do as Daddy tells me, and he’s right, and I feel so proud, like I’m his perfect Little.
The hour flies, and when we finish the page—dolphins, waves, Poot, and Billy all sparkly and bright—I’m buzzing, my Little side so happy I could burst.
Henry leans back, looking at our work, and nods, like it’s a masterpiece.
“Not bad, darling boy,” Henry says, and I giggle, tossing a crayon at him.
“ Not bad ? It’s awesome, Daddy!” I say, stomping my feet under the table in excitement.
Henry laughs, pulling me into his lap before I can dodge.
His arms wrap around me, strong and warm, and I melt, my Little side sinking into his embrace. Henry cuddles me close, his chin resting on my head, and I feel it—truly protected, like nothing can touch me, not Vince, not my fears, nothing.
It’s a first, this deep, bone-level safety, and tears prick my eyes, but they’re happy ones. This just feels so right. I know it might be crazy, but there’s something about Henry that I feel like I’ve been searching for my whole life.
“You’re my brave Little,” Henry murmurs, his voice low, vibrating through me. “No matter what happens, I’ve got you, Bodie. Always.”
Henry’s words hit hard, soothing that knot of fear about him leaving, at least for now. I snuggle closer, Poot and Billy squished between us, and let myself believe it, just for this moment.
“Thanks, Daddy,” I whisper, my voice small, my Little side wrapped in his care. I don’t know what tomorrow holds—Vince, the pier, or what comes after—but right now, I’m his Little, coloring dolphins and feeling safe, and that’s enough.
I want to take the next step with Henry, I really do.
My heart is telling me it’s what I want, and so is my body.
But with the Vince situation on the horizon, I just don’t know if there will be the right moment any time soon…