Page 5 of Bash

“I did. Only three days a week, but then Blade and Leland hired you and my off days became my least favorite days. I started adding more clients just so I could see you more. I’m not telling you any of this to pressure you. You’ve been through so much and you’re just now getting your first real taste of freedom. But I am telling you because I want you to understand how muchI wanted to do those things for you. You’re keeping track of all of the things I’ve done today, but friendships don’t require tallys, honey. They’re not a tit-for-tat type of thing.”

“I’m scared I’ll be a burden and you and the others won’t want me around anymore. I just met you all, but my life would be so sad without you guys in it,” she admitted.

I admired her bravery to express such a vulnerability to me. “Oh, that’s a big burden for a Little girl,” I said, “and it’s one you don’t need to carry. We love you, Little one. We’ve invited you into our lives to stay. You could never be a burden to us.”

Her body relaxed the tiniest bit in my arms and I felt triumphant. I didn’t doubt this was something we would need to talk about often, and perhaps seek counseling for, but I was happy she trusted my words for a moment, even if it might be fleeting.

“I enjoy taking care of Littles. It doesn’t matter if they're mine or not. Being a Daddy is in my DNA. Let me take care of you until you’re feeling better, please? When you are well, I’ll take you back to the shelter or wherever you want to go. No strings attached,” I said, even though the thought of letting her go back to the shelter made me queasy.

“It would make you happy?” she questioned. Her eyes were hopeful. She was so eager to please.

“Very happy,” I promised, pushing open the bathroom door with my foot and gently settling her on the ground.

“And youwantto take care of me until I’m better? Like really? Not just because you feel bad for me or because you feel obligated?”

“I want to take care of you because I adore you. I don’t feel obligated to do anything, Little one.”

She bit her lip and rolled it around between her teeth while she thought over what I’d said. Reaching up, I freed it before she hurt herself. I would never understand why women alwaysbit their lips when they were nervous. Wasn’t there a less destructive thing they could do that didn’t make me worry about them biting a hole in a body part? Maybe yoga? Wasn’t that a safe hobby?

“Okay. I would be really thankful for your help,” she finally admitted. I felt like her answer was a bit forced and once again far too polite, but at least we were breaking some ground.

***

Allyson

After a heavenly shower, I was tucked into Bash’s bed, wearing his clothes. Both smelled like him and the sheets were so soft. I snuggled down beneath the covers and tried to stop my shivering. I’d already had the chills, but after my shower they were worse. My head also felt like it was stuffed with cotton.

“Hey, darlin’. I called Elliot and he said it would be okay to give you a few sips of ginger ale and some fever reducer if you thought you might be able to keep it down.” He carried a can of soda with a silly bendy straw and a bottle of medication in his hands.

“I t-think I can.” My teeth chattered together when I spoke.

“Poor baby, when the fever breaks you’ll feel so much better.”

I sat back up and he handed me the can before filling a syringe with orange liquid.

“Do you like the orange or the grape fever reducer better? I can pick up a different one later,” he said, holding the syringe up to my mouth. I tried to grab it, but he pulled his hand back. “Let me help, okay?”

I nodded and he held it up to my lips. I opened my mouth and then swallowed the medicine once he pushed the plunger.

“Good girl,” he praised, making my tummy flip around.

“I’ve only taken the pills so I don’t know which one I like better,” I answered. I definitely liked the liquid better. The orange was pretty yummy.

“Well, we’ll just have to get both so you can try them.”

I took a few sips of the ginger ale he held for me.

He reached in his pocket and pulled out a thermometer. “This one rolls across your forehead,” he explained, turning it on and taking my temp. “I’ll be honest, though, this isn’t my favorite way to take a Little girl’s temperature and this will probably be the only time I use this one.”

“102.7. You are a very sick baby,” he said, studying the display with a frown. “Let me help you lay back down.” He tucked me back under the covers and rubbed my legs gently.

“What’s your favorite way?” I asked, even though I was pretty sure I already knew.

He grinned. “Your booty. It’s the most accurate.”

I averted my gaze and pulled the covers up higher.

He chuckled and pulled them down a bit, probably so he could see my face. “I would never do anything without your consent, baby.”

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