Page 6 of Just A Little Magic

I told myself Bear wouldn’t ever see me like this.

CHAPTER THREE

BARRETT

As promised, I was on Owen’s front porch at ten a.m. sharp. The first few times, I knocked politely. After that, I pounded but still no answer. My Daddy hackles raised, I used the emergency spare key in my pocket.

I threw open the door, expecting destruction and mayhem. Instead, my sweet baby was sound asleep on the couch with a paci in his mouth, an empty bottle on the floor, and his head pillowed on a minky light-blue blanket that was new to me.

I knew I should back out of the house and pound the door again or maybe call him. But instead, I gently traced my finger down the side of his cheek. The hint of morning stubble should’ve been incongruent with the paci, but it wasn’t. Owen’s hair was every which way and I could see the tell-tale puff of a diaper under his blanket. On the floor were soft blocks like you’d see a baby play with, although these were clearly for adult-size hands.

The entire vision in front of me made my heart hurt. Why hadn’t he allowed me to see this part of him? Of course I’d known Owen was a little since that fateful run-in at the kinkmunch back in college. But he’d never played in public. I had to practically force him to come to the club, and even then, he was always in and out quickly.

To my knowledge, Owen never let anyone see him in any little stage. All signs of it were always put away, no matter who was in his space. We’d been friends with Jakob for years, and now Rory, both were absolute sweethearts, and even they hadn’t been around him when he was in a little headspace.

He’d fallen asleep on the couch with his blankie still out, his bottle fallen to the floor, his paci in his mouth, and wearing his sailor jammies. He obviously never intended for me to see this.

Owen’s breaths were even and strong, and every part of me wanted to pull him onto my lap and let him finish sleeping while I cuddled him.

In daylight hours, Owen had become progressively pricklier about physical contact. When we first met, he was quick to offer a hug or cuddle, but over the last couple of years, he’d drawn back, and I’d never figured out why. I was a Daddy. Why wouldn’t I want to help take care of him? He was my best friend. I loved him.

Maybe I wasn’t the kind of Daddy he needed? Or wanted?

All of this made my head hurt, and my single cup of coffee wasn’t nearly enough to help me figure out a puzzle this complicated so early in the morning.

Despite knowing how much Owen didn’t want me to see him when he regressed, here I was, crouched next to the couch with my hands where they definitely did not belong. The pull of Owen was just too strong. Sure, he was cute, but that was just a bonus. He was also generous, kind, and loyal. And holy shit, he was sexy as fuck.

If I wasn’t the man he wanted, I could accept that. But I had this persistent, intrusive thought that Iwasthe man forOwen and something had been preventing us from figuring that out. I had no idea how to get past that block.

I’d been patient. I’d been flirty. I’d given up seeing anyone else because that had been completely unfair to them. I didn’t want to be platonic best friends forever, but if it was how I kept Owen in my life, then my right hand would suffice.

I was so lost in my head that I didn’t realize Owen had stirred under the stroke of my fingers through his hair.

“What are you doing?” he hissed around this paci. “How did you get in here?”

“I knocked and called, but no one answered. I let myself in.”

“But…but…oh God.” Owen’s expression was more than embarrassment. It was horror.

“I’m sorry. I was just a little worried because you never oversleep.”

Owen scrambled up from his nest on the couch to his feet.

“Give me fifteen minutes,” he said abruptly and ran out of the living room like his ass was on fire.

Fuck.

“We good?” Our trip started in silence, and I hated that Owen wasn’t being himself with me.

“Yeah, we’re fine. I was just surprised this morning. It threw me to see you.”

Owen glanced over at me with a bright smile. It looked forced, but I wouldn’t call him on it. “So, yeah, now you know.”

“Now I know what?”

“That I’m a real little.”

“What? Did I think you weren’t a real little? I’m pretty sure I thought you were a real little. Are you fuckingwith me?”

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