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I bounced my head up and down really fast before tucking my nose against the top of Wells's head, suddenly shy about it all.
"I'm going to be here," Daddy said softly, more to the room than to me. "Whatever the future looks like, I'll be here. I just need to keep my boy. That's all I need."
CHAPTER 17
Paxton
I’d been my boy’s Daddy a few days before he invited me to see the playroom. The idea of seeing it had been on my mind from the moment he gave me permission to take care of him.
The playroom was the thing he’d been most careful about. I hadn’t pushed. I understood without being told that the playroom was the innermost room of who he was. It was a sacred space for him. A comfort I didn’t feel right forcing myself into.
He needed to welcome me. Needed to feel right about it on his own.
Even though I’d been a Daddy before in the sense of the dynamic, there’d never been anyone who was mine specifically. I knew I needed to keep things at his pace or I’d lose him.
My boy had been Little for years and never had a Daddy at all. We were both learning the particular ins and outs of us. It was going well, and every day there was something new that clicked into place.
When he did invite me, it came in the form of a text while I was in a team meeting. It had taken everything I had not to jump up and cheer. My teammates would probably laugh it off, but I still didn’t need the questions they’d ask.
My boy:Want to come over today? I have something I want to show you.
Daddy:Tell me when to head over.
I showed up to the office before he got the chance to text. I was far too excited to wait.
When I walked in, Moseley gave me a look that said he knew we had big plans for the evening. His eyes took me in from head to toe like he would find the answers in my appearance or something.
Cheyenne called out to let my boy I was there, then told us to have a good evening in a tone full of approval. I had to hope it was because she knew I was taking good care of her boss.
The drive to his place was short. We took separate cars since I came from the gym. I pulled up just behind him in the driveway, then waited while he unlocked the front door and held it open.
Inside the house was the same as it had been the two other times I’d come over since that first night. My boy put his things away, then turned to look at me with a cautious expression. It was at that moment I confirmed what he wanted to show me.
"You okay, baby?" I moved closer, wrapping my arms around him in a loose hug.
He sank against me. "I'm nervous, Daddy."
"You don't have to show me if you're not ready. There’s no rush."
"But Iamready. I want to so bad."
"Then take a deep breath and lead the way, baby. Nothing you show me will change how I feel about you."
He led me down the hall past his bedroom to the door he kept closed and locked tight. Not that I’d tried to open it. I knew from the few times he’d mentioned it he believed in locking that part of him away.
The sound of the lock disengaging rippled around us. When he pushed it open, he looked back at me one more time. I waited him out, much like I’d learned he needed in every aspect of things related to his Little nature.
My boy went inside first. Following him, I couldn’t hold back the awe I felt seeing the space. My jaw ached with the force I used to keep it from dropping open. I didn’t need him to think I was judging him negatively.
Every inch of the space was soft. There wasn’t a sharp corner or hard item in the place. He could roll around the room and not hit anything until he reached the walls of the space.
From the blue-gray color of the walls to the piles of blankets and stuffies, it screamed Grizzly. He was woven into the space in a way that brought tears to my eyes.
This was my boy. Plain and simple.
What a fucking gift it was to experience.
I took in more of the details as I worked to hold back my tears. One whole wall was shelving, floor to ceiling, holding an organized collection of stuffed animals that ranged from small enough to fit in a pocket to large enough to need both arms. There were soft boxes on the lower shelves with labels in myboy's loopy handwriting. A low table with rounded edges sat in the center of the room with cushions around it.
