Page 7 of Chance's Choice
When I stared at his photo, a little voice in my head had snidely reminded me that if I hadn’t fucked up twenty years ago, we might have been able to explore that compatibility together, but I’d managed to swallow it back and settle in for the auction, waiting patiently for my chance. (Ha, see what I did there?)
Originally, I only turned up because Emmett gently reminded me the last two times we bumped into each other at The Grove. If I were to let myself have friends, I imagine Emmett would make a good one, so I said I’d come and check the place out tonight. I said it partially to shut him up, and partially because the loneliness of my life really is starting to wear on me.
It’s my own fault. I know this. And being back in my home city is exacerbating it. But I think I’ve hit a wall and I need to finally deal with the mess I made.
Which then leads me right back to why I bid on Chance. I expected that he’d take one look at me and tell me to fuck off, but I just couldn’t help myself. I need closure, if nothing else. Besides, dropping a couple of grand on a worthy cause isn’t something I mind doing anyway. It’s not like I’ve got anyone other than myself to spend my money on, and this kink-centric community center is doing amazing things. Honestly, they need to spread the word more, because the services, inclusion, and help they are offering is phenomenal.
Maybe once I’ve been able to talk to Chance, I’ll volunteer to help their marketing and social media team, or something.
But Chance is my priority right now.
I race after him, following him through the bright, welcoming rec room and then through the double doors that lead out into the beautifully manicured entrance and front lawn. From the street, this place looks almost like a large day care center. It’s got a friendly vibe, from the colorful fencing, to the rainbow pattern of the building’s front façade, and also the neat lawn and garden beds. I’d stood outside admiring it for a few minutes earlier tonight.
“Chance, c’mon, please wait,” I call after my former friend, trotting to try and catch up to him.
He’s reached the sidewalk and I watch as he stops and his shoulders slump before he turns to face me, his mouth set in a grim line. “What the hell, Kade?”
Even though I wasn’t exactly expecting sunshine and roses, the fire in Chance’s hazel-brown eyes makes me stop in my tracks. Maybe it’s my guilt, maybe it’s our past, maybe it’s the fact that he’s a Daddy and I’m a boy, but I can feel my lower lip quiver in the face of his frustration.
He steps closer, still frowning, the look far more intimidating now that he’s a grown ass man than it ever was when we were teens. The hair on his cheeks -also a new addition- intensifies the expression on his face.
“Seriously, what…” Chance trails off and shakes his head. “How’d you even know I was gonna be here?”
“I didn’t.”
Chance blinks at me, then scoffs, “So you justhappenedto turn up to a kinky auction? You expect me to believe…” He does the trailing off thing again, then frowns. “Charlie said Emmett knew you from The Grove.” Now he’s starting to sound genuinely confused, his ire deflating.
It’s so very much like the boy I used to know that I can’t help smiling. “Yeah. I…I’m a Little, actually. I’ve only been back in town a short while, and word on the grapevine is that The Grove’s the best club around, so…” I shrug. When he doesn’t say anything, I press on. “I had no idea you’d be here. Hell, I had no idea you were a Daddy. And then when I saw you, I just…”
“Acted on impulse.” Chance finishes for me in a tone I can’t really read. He sounds flat and resigned, sure, but am I just being hopeful, or is he also a little amused?
“Yeah,” I answer, another smile tugging at my lips as I shrug, “you know me.”
That proves to be the wrong thing to say.
“Funnily enough, no, I don’t.” Chance folds his arms, the suit jacket he’s wearing pulling tight across broader shoulders than I recall him having. “And that’s your fault, Kade. Hell, I came out to you and…” He stops himself, sighing. “It doesn’t fucking matter. It’s been twenty years and I don’t know what you hoped to achieve by buying a day with me, but you’re not getting that day. I hope you realize that.”
“I know,” my reply is soft and resigned. I want to reach for him, want to offer him physical comfort because I know he’s a tactile man, but I keep my hands to myself. “I just…I wanted to…to see you. To apologize to you.”
His eyes snap to mine at that. “What?”
I swallow, feeling my palms sweating and my heart racing.
I’ve thought about what I’d say to him so often for the last twenty years, and certainly more frequently since I’ve been back in town, that it’s almost seared into my brain. An elaborate, heartfelt apology, listing my crimes and expressing my understanding that I don’t expect his forgiveness, but that I know he deserves to hear me say the words.
But now, knowing that this is my only opportunity, my mind blanks.
Twenty fucking years of remorse, and all I manage to offer him is, “I fucked up, Chance. I fucked up, and I’m so sorry.”
I want to say more. I do. But the words won’t come. I try to implore him with my eyes, begging him silently to hear them even though I can’t put them out there.
“Kade…”
“I’m so sorry.” I repeat.
Then I burst into tears.
Chapter Five – Chance
