Page 3 of Their Little House Colter
“You’d better go before the whole thing ends up flipped over and there are tears.”
“He’s not much of a flipper, but we can avoid tears. I’ll see you soon.”
As he settled into a small chair beside his little, I continued to look around the room. Despite the success of the day, I had worked hard to get that win, and my eyes were growing heavy. With a seven o’clock meeting in the morning, I shouldn’t stay too long. It was probably silly to have come at all, except I liked it so much, even an hour was refreshing. Turning toward the door, ready to leave, I spotted a little I had not seen before. He sat cross-legged on the floor, a picture book open in his lap. His focus was on the illustrations, but mine was on him. His pale-blue onesie with the baby tiger embossed on the front and light-up sneakers that flashed every time he turned a page suited him perfectly.
I had taken one step toward him when I remembered the rule. The little room was their safe space, and if he wanted to play with a daddy, he’d have to approach one himself. I lingered, hoping he’d notice me and come over, but I wouldn’t push. He deserved his carefree time. After a while, I decided to leave before I was too tired to drive home. Hopefully, this adorable little would be here next time I visited.
Chapter Three
Dallas
Some littles like the noisy toys.
Like the big floor keyboard that others stepped on to make silly music. Race cars zoomed around a track, the wheels scraping against the sides of the plastic, making my teeth hurt. Some games featured flashing lights and artificial sounds.
That was all fine and good for them. They liked it, and I didn’t complain. Our playroom was a shared one, offering a little bit of everything for everyone.
I sat at the table and made good progress on my wild coloring of a turtle. The way I rendered it, was like no turtle in nature. But it was fun. The colors were rich, and I took great care to make sure everything was within the lines.
Cozy play was more my speed. Coloring books. Puzzles. Slower-motion cartoons. Crafts.
“Hey, everyone,” Monroe said, coming into the playroom. “We have a potential new roommate coming in shortly if everyone wants to meet him.”
I tucked a white crayon—because no one used that lack of color—into the coloring book, marking my place, and placed the other crayons back in the box. We loved our playroom, and so everyone worked together to keep it neat and tidy. Plus, if someone brought a daddy or mommy here, well, the last thing we wanted was for them to see our untidiness.
“On my way,” I answered, pushing my chair under the table painted with primary colors. Monroe was the decider on roommates and the rules of the house, since he was the owner. He’d inherited the house but decided to rent out the rooms. We could voice our opinions, but he had the final say.
Made sense to me.
We walked into the living room, but I hung back, sitting in the recliner, a bit apart from the others. I took a while to warm up to strangers, and preferred to observe and take people in before opening up.
We’d started talking about something that happened at Chained when Monroe’s doorbell camera app made a noise.
The new potential little was here.
I tensed just a smidge.
Monroe got up and went to the door. I heard him speak to someone, and then that someone walked in.
Instantly, I was entranced. He had brown hair, longer at the top and cut short on the sides. He had a tan. Maybe he liked to play outside a lot, or his job kept him in the sun. Either way, the tone looked good on him.
“Everyone, this is Colter. Colter this is…” He introduced us one by one. Once he got to me, all I could do was nod as my cheeks heated.
Colter smiled at me.
He answered questions for Monroe and the rest of us with ease. He was tidy by his own standards and would follow the rules. His job allowed him to pay the rent easily enough.
Everything inside me was silently yelling at Monroe to give him a tour and let him move in, but I knew those feelings were misplaced. Colter was a little. Monroe only allowed other littles to be our roommates.
Still, every time Colter laughed, revealing those beautiful dimples in his cheeks, I melted, wishing I had sat closer to the others—closer to him.
They asked about his job and what he liked to do in his free time. He soon settled back on the sofa and chatted about things he loved.
The more he talked, the more I was enthralled.
His green eyes ticked my way more than once and caught my breath each time. He made me feel new things in my tummy.
Once the interview was over, Colter bid us goodbye. Might’ve been my imagination, but I swore his eyes lingered on me longer than on the others.
