Page 10 of Rowan's Renewal
“Sweetheart, breathe,” Aaron’s voice is low and soothing. He guides me through the rising anxiety by modeling deep breaths in and out for me. His hand never leaves my thigh.
“Can you talk to me about what triggered your panic attack just now?” he asks after we’ve climbed out of the Uber. He gives me time to consider whether I want to as we climb the steps to the foyer and cross the glossy tiled floor.
Cringing, I eventually admit, “I overthink things sometimes. When I’m already stressed, it gets worse, and I start spiraling over all the things that could have gone even more wrong. I know I’m dumb to—”
“Our brains can be dumb sometimes, not us.” Aaron’s interruption is a gentle rebuke. “We can’t always control the way we think or the thoughts we have, especially when we’re already highly emotional.” He stops to face me as we wait for the elevator. “You’re not dumb for having thoughts like that. You know that, right?”
“Alex used to say—”
“I get the feeling your Alex did a number on you, so forgive me, but I am going to put zero stock in anything he…they?...said to you. Ever.”
I snort.
There’s nobody else around us, but I can hear music drifting in faintly from the direction of the hotel bar-slash-nightclub on theother side of the building. Lady Gaga’sBad Romancetickles my brain. What is the universe trying to tell me now?
“He,” I nod as the elevator opens in front of us. I wait for Aaron to walk in ahead of me. “And, yeah, okay…referencing anything he used to say is probably pointless. He was a dick.” Leaning against the cool, mirrored wall, I sigh. “We were together for a few years. It’s hard to let go of some of the things ingrained in me from that. Especially when it was my issues that ended us.”
“Sweetheart,” Aaron’s expression falls, and there’s a hint of horror in his voice, “no. I doubt that.”
The doors ding open on the fourth floor and we step out as I bristle, “You’ve known me for less than a day.”
“Fine,” he rolls his eyes. “Did you end your relationship? You dumped him? Broke his heart?” Reaching into his pocket as we reach our door, he swipes his card over the reader then twists the door handle, his eyebrows raised expectantly for my answer.
“Well,” I step inside at his gesture, “no, but I know that being with me —a neurotic, incontinent homebody with erectile dysfunction— isn’t exactly winning the boyfriend lottery. We couldn’t do the things he wanted, I was embarrassing, I—”
“Those arehisissues, not yours.” Aaron closes the door and strides across to the couch in the main living area, sitting down and patting the spot beside him. “You didn’t do anything wrong by existing, Rowan. I’m coming at this as an unbiased outsider with a medical degree: Iknowmen in your position do everything they can to minimize their symptoms and the severity of their conditions, and I am sure you are the same. If Alex couldn’t handle it, that’s on him.”
It's funny. In my own head, IknowAlex was self-centered and a bit of a prick. But when it comes to talking about it, I always find myself rationalizing the things he said or did. Bianca’s called me out on it a number of times, not that she knowswhyhe always used to be so frustrated with me or embarrassed byme, but hearing Aaron defend me from the pains of my last relationship is validating in a completely unexpected way.
“Yeah…you’re right. I know you are,” I tell him. “I just…I have moments like tonight, and it throws me off-kilter. And it reminds me that I’m better off single. Not that…not that that was a date. And, oh God, I didn’t even get to pay after everything that happened.”
Aaron shakes his head, reaching out to grasp my hand in his. His hands are big and warm. Grounding. He squeezes gently. “It was the best date I’ve been on in a while,” he says. “Whether it was supposed to be or not.”
Wait…what?
The realization that I’m still wearing the same jeans I wet earlier hits me hard and I push to my feet, abruptly ending whateverthatwas. Aaron Park is far too good to wind up with me, even for a summer fling. “I’m going to go shower and change. You, um, you didn’t have to help me tonight, but you did, and I appreciate that.”
He also stands up, reaching for me. “Rowan…”
“No, I…I feel gross, and I’d better change and…”
“I’m a Daddy,” he blurts.
“I…sorry, what?”
Lifting his hand to run long, elegant fingers through thick black hair, he sighs. “I’m a Daddy. A kink Daddy. A soft Dom, too, I guess. I…The reason I originally booked a two-bedroom suite was because my ex and I wanted a nursery away from home. Somewhere to store his toys and” —he looks meaningfully at me— “change his diapers.”
My heart starts to race. “What?”
“I’m into age play. ABDL…have you heard of it?”
“In porn, yeah.” I am aware that I still sound bewildered. “But I didn’t…you mean people actually dress up as babies in reality?”
Aaron nods. “It’s not just about the kink, though. It’s…there’s this whole give and take with trust and vulnerability and a level of intimacy and connection that is really hard to put into words. It…it doesn’t have to be sexual, but, I mean,” he rubs the back of his neck, shoulders rising as he confesses, “I’m also kind of into watersports, so…”
“I’m guessing you don’t mean the kind with snorkels or flippers.”
“I’m not against costumes in the bedroom.”
