Page 31 of Soothed By Daddy
“I’m no murderer.”
Tye sat back in his chair and picked his pole back up. “Suit yourself, but I’m not baiting the hook for someone I’m not dating.”
“You’re not gay.”
“Rules are rules.” Tye cast his line out again, sad worm and all, and we sat for a while longer.
“Do you think George wants to date me?”
“There’s probably a reason he’s put up with your ass, and I’m pretty sure it’s not the free labor. You want to know what I think is gonna happen?”
“No, but I’m pretty sure I’m about to hear anyway.”
“I think that you’ll sit on your ass and tell yourself it’s no big deal, and George is gonna keep going along with it. Then, pretty soon, he’s gonna get resentful that he is giving all of himself to someone who chooses not to reciprocate. And then you’re going to wake up with a new neighbor who doesn’t want your ass sniffing around George.”
“My ex was something else.”
“Probably so was his. Get some therapy and move on.”
“I thought you were nicer than this.”
“I can’t stand self-pity. It’s the worst trait. It pisses me off.”
I flinched, not because he was wrong, but because it landed harder than I wanted to admit.
“If I’d known, I wouldn’t have called you about fishing.”
“If I’d known you were gonna bring this bullshit, I wouldn’t have invited you.”
“So what am I supposed to do now?”
“Shit or get off the pot.”
Tye’s words echoed in my mind. Every time I thought about Chris returning to George’s life—making him miserable again by being a terrible Daddy—I got angry all over again. But I wasn’t entitled to say anything because we weren’t fucking dating. The thought that I might lose the best friend I’d ever had because Iwasn’t willing to call what we had a relationship sat heavily on my heart.
Were we in a relationship? We had dinner together at least four nights a week. We went to the movies together. We went grocery shopping together. We went to the damn farmers’ market so I could buy us flowers. Me pretending it was no big deal, him burying his face in them every single time. He’d spend thirty minutes picking out the most perfect bouquet, only to change his mind and ask them to put together one he picked out himself. They always did because he asked so sweetly and was so appreciative.
And that didn’t even include what it felt like to be allowed to be his Daddy. Yes, I mean, I knew it had started with the lactation and all that, but I couldn’t imagine anyone other than George nursing from me. Nothing made me feel better about myself than realizing I was taking proper care of my boy in all the ways he needed and wanted.
My chest tightened like someone had cinched a strap across it, and the thought came out of nowhere: I didn’t want anyone else to get those flowers, those dinners, those quiet nights.
Shit.
I really was a fucking idiot.
“Sorry, man, I gotta go.”
10
GEORGE
“Hey,” Cyrus said from where he sat alone on the front steps.
It looked like he was messing with a twig, breaking it into smaller pieces and stacking it between his knees. He looked up when I came through the gate, but he didn’t make a move to get off the steps.
“Hey, yourself. You forget your keys?”
“Nah, I got them.”
