Page 47 of Just A Little Magic

“Bear, I wish I could give that to you. It’s…well…it’s complicated.”

“Uncomplicate it. Lay it out for me.”

Owen huffed a sigh and his own stubborn expression matched my own.

“Fine. What do I have to lose anyway, right? Fine. Here’s the thing…I’m a little.”

“Yes, I’m aware. I’ve been aware of that since college.”

This wasn’t new ground for us.

“Like really little and not just when I’m scared witless from animal encounters. I’m not like Rory and Jakob, who get to be all cute and cuddly and play games with their Daddies. I’mlittle.I like bottles and pacis, and I can barely string two wordstogether when I get into a little headspace. Daddies don’t really want my kind of little. We’re a lot of work but not enough play.”

Oh, so that’s what this was about.

“I sure as hell enjoyed myself at the lodge. There is no damn way you could think I faked that,” I protested.

It felt like he wanted to taint my memories of the best fucking night of my life. I’d replayed those hours over and over. They were still a distraction weeks later, and no one, not even Owen, was allowed to diminish them.

“Yeah, the one time. Except I’m like that all the time. There aren’t cute trips to the zoo or out for hot chocolate with me. When I go to a little headspace, I amlittle.”

“And you think that’s too much for Daddies in general or me in particular?” Our untouched food was rapidly cooling on the plates. “Hey, don’t forget your dinner. Patty melts and good onion rings should never be wasted.”

I was gratified to see him take a few bites. I was getting a clearer picture of where he was coming from, but the why of it didn’t make sense yet. I searched my memories and couldn’t think of a time when we’d discussed it, let alone when I’d said something against his type of little.

“In general. Look, it is what it is, but it’s fine.”

What he said finally clicked in my brain. “Wait a minute. You date! You’ve told me about them. Why isn’t it too much for them?”

More than a blush rose up Owen’s neck. It was like an inferno from the inside out. He squirmed in his seat across from me and looked anywhere but at me. He looked guilty. Horribly, abjectly guilty.

“Owen, have you lied to me about who you’ve dated?”

“Lied is a strong word.”

“How about fibbed? Stretched the truth? Fudged on the details?”

“I may have given an impression that was not wholly accurate.”

Christ on a cracker, this man should have been a lawyer with how he tiptoed around the subject. Maybe he was getting lessons from Levi on answering without giving anything away. My food was getting cold, but that was unimportant at the moment. I was finally getting somewhere. The flaming red blush had faded, but faint pink splotches remained on his cheeks.

“If I understand correctly, your concern is that you think you’re too much work as a little. Something may or may not have happened to give you that impression. You enjoyed our time at the lodge but think it was a one-off because of the circumstances. And your Canadian dates may have been…aspirational?” I desperately tried to hide the gleam in my eye because I recognized the glint in his.

“That is an unfortunate description of the situation.” Ha! Whenever Owen was uncomfortable, he reverted to weird formality. It was fucking adorable. “Aspirational is…” His voice trailed off, and the fire-engine red blush returned.

“Aspirational is…aspirational?”

A horrifying realization popped into my mind once the truth of what he was trying hard not to tell me sunk in. He’d been lying, and that was the correct word for it, about dating. It was on those dates that hooking up occurred. Oh shit.

“Owen, how much experience did you have before our night at the lodge?”

Owen looked everywhere but at me before raising his patty melt and taking a giant bite. He held up his finger to tell me to wait. So I did. When he finished chewing, I repeated myself. He took another bite. Yeah, totally not suspicious at all.

Owen knew it was a lost cause. He could delay it if he wanted, but I could be patient. Our dance continued until every scrap of food and the last drop of his milkshake were gone. I repeated my question once again.

“You are ridiculously stubborn,” Owen replied through narrowed eyes.

He wasn’t wrong. And he had no room to talk.

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