Page 12 of First Class Feelings

I nod.

“That’s good news, then. Really good news. Means I can see you after this trip. That I won’t have to resort to using my airline miles to try to follow you across the country. Because I would have. Do you understand that? I’d have been on a plane as soon as this week ended to come to you if you’d have agreed to keep this going.”

My eyes must show the questions I can’t form with my mouth.

What is this? What are we doing? How can I keep you?

“We can work through all the other questions you have this week. I’m not going anywhere anytime soon if you’ll have me.”

He laughs when my head bounces in a nod so quickly I get dizzy. His grip tightens, holding me in place to get my attention again.

Since my Little side has decided to go nonverbal with him, I allow my actions to show how I feel. Tilting my head, I nuzzle his palm as I close my eyes. It’s the most trusting move I can give him.

Plus, I want him to know I enjoy his touch. I want more of it. More of him.

“For now, let’s focus on getting you fed, little one. The rest will work out.”

I sure hope he’s right.

CHAPTER 6

Duval

Foster's stomach grumbles as we make our way downstairs. I grin from where I’m snuggling up beside him on the elevator.

My arm wraps around his waist, pulling him tight to me.

“Someone is hungry,” I say.

He blushes and tucks his head closer to me. He's deep in his Little state. It's been interesting to try to communicate with him since he's practically mute.

I'm not sure if it's him being shy or simply how he assesses the situation at first. I would ask, but he hasn't been big long enough for me to. And it seems like the nonverbal part of things might be new to him too. I think we’re learning everything together.

Not that I'm complaining at all. I’m loving this version of him.

Having someone I can take care of all day long? Sign me up.

But I also worry that I'm missing something. That maybe he needs things that I'm not providing.

The only way to fix it is to go above and beyond. Since that's already my personality type, we seem like a good fit.

Downstairs, I stop at the reception desk to ask if they have a menu for the restaurant there to give us an idea of what they have. She hands one over easily, and we step to the side so she can help other people while we scan the options.

Foster looks over them with me. He doesn't light up like he did about the ice cream. I suspect nothing here appeals to him.

It's standard fare with a high dollar touch added in, a mix of dishes to cater to everyone. But clearly, my boy wants something else. Possibly something less fancy than this place offers.

I slip the menu to the woman once she's done with her client and ask for recommendations for a place nearby.

"What kind of cuisine are you interested in?" she asks me.

I turn to Foster, hoping he'll give me some kind of sign. He's not paying any attention to us, though. His eyes are moving around the building, taking in all the bright lights and colorful images.

I worry it might be overwhelming him with the state he's in.

When I brought him in earlier, I had been careful to make sure we weren't here for too long, simply because I wanted to get him somewhere safe. Now, though, I wonder if maybe it's just all too much in general.

I'm still not sure what caused him to panic. There's a lot I have to find out about him. I intend to spend as much time with him as I can to uncover every truth.

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