“Um, sure. That’s fine?” My words come out more like a question, but I can’t help it. I’m hovering on the edge of being big and little. The adult side of me wants to go to a sit-down and treat this lunch like a date. But my little side sees all the attractions, and I just want to play games with my Daddy. I groan internally. Not that Clay is my Daddy.
“You sound unsure, Fe.” His lips form a sweet smile, but if I’m being truthful, I’m distracted by his damn voice. It’s dominant and familiar. And why am I suddenly picturing Clay tucking me in and reading me bedtime stories?
I eye him curiously. Could Clay possibly be the Daddy Clay my friends mentioned? I giggle. Damn, how amazing would it be if the guy I’m crushing on is into the same kinks as me?
At the sound of my laugh, Clay’s whole face lights up. “There’s that damn giggle again.”
We walk further down the Pier as I take in the sights. My heart races when he squeezes my hand, reminding me that we are, in fact, still holding hands. “What’s going on in that pretty little brain of yours, Fe?”
My heart does a slow roll. “I like the way you call me Fe.” I pause by a cotton candy stand and point. “What if we got some yummy snacks instead of going to a sit-down restaurant? This is my first time at the pier, and I’m having fun walking around. Maybe we can munch while we stroll?”
Clay’s forest-green eyes sparkle. “Actually, I was going to ask if I could play tour guide for you sometime this week.” He glances around the pier. “Might as well start now, right?”
I nod eagerly. “Oh my gosh.” I bounce on my toes. “I’d love that. I want to explore the town more, but don’t know where to go.”
He bites his lip. “If you don’t have anything going on, maybe we can spend the day here at the pier? Eat some food, play some games, and maybe even go on a few rides together?”
An image of Clay and me enjoying a romantic ride on the Ferris wheel comes to mind, and I clap. “Yes—yes please, Da-Clay.” Gah! I want to call him Daddy so badly. “As long as we can get cotton candy!”
“Okay, brat,” he jokes. “But first, real food. Do you like chicken strips?”
I nod again.
“What about waffles? Because this pier is known for its unique waffle cones filled with various flavors of chicken. That’s way more filling than cotton candy.” He hands me his phone and shows me the menu. The images immediately make my tummy growl with excitement. It’s a cute little food truck stationed at the edge of the pier along the beach.
“Okay. That actually sounds really good. But we’ll still get cotton candy later, right? And you’ll have some, too?”
He laughs, bringing my fingers up to his lips and placing a gentle kiss on the back of my knuckles. “Yes, Fe! I promise. I want nothing more than to share some cotton candy with you.”
I smirk. “That’s the sweetest and sexiest thing anyone has ever said to me.”
Several hours later, we’re sitting at the restaurant Clay kept raving about. A part of me feels like this is a date—or more accurately, like this whole day was several dates wrapped in one. We ate lunch and chatted, spent a few hours at the arcade playing games, and then later we rode several of the pier’s rides.
Later, after dinner, we plan on riding the Ferris wheel and ending the night with cotton candy. He said it was something we could look forward to once he was done playing tour guide for the night. Even though I’m looking forward to all of that, I have to admit, this is kind of wonderful, too.
“What do you think of their tea-leaf salad?” He asks, feeding me another forkful.
I chew playfully and narrow my eyes. How am I supposed to answer him when he keeps feeding me food? “Delicious,” I reply once I finish chewing. “I’ve never had anything like this before. It’s refreshing. And I love the crunch of the different nuts. God, why can’t all salads be this good?”
“Wait until you try my fusion chicken Caesar salad. I bake these delicious garlic flour tortilla chips and use them instead of croutons, and the chicken is seasoned with this chipotle rub that’s to die for.”
“Will you make it for me someday?”
“I can make it for you on Wednesday.” He beams over at me, his gaze making me feel warm. Safe. I knew I had a crush on the guy, but damn, I didn’t realize how much I’d missed him.
Once we finish eating, Clay insists on paying the bill, and something gives me the impression he’s trying to spoil me. It’s a strange, yet wonderful feeling. He treats me like I’m someone worth treasuring.
Deep into our conversation, we continue walking along the moonlit pier, occasionally glancing up at the stars. We pause in front of the cotton candy stand, and together we pick out the blue flavor to share.Moonlight and cotton candy. Could this night get any better?Eventually, we get in the long line for the Ferris wheel. We’re having so much fun feeding each other the sugary treat and getting to know each other that we don’t even mind the wait.
There’s a slight ocean breeze. It’s a beautiful night, made even more romantic by the sound of the waves crashing in the distance.
Even in line, we have fun chatting. We recount the highlights of our lives over the past four years. I tell him about college and my brother, whom he remembers from school. He tells me about how he came out to his mother and how easily she accepted him. We talk about how close he is to his Gran, and I love that. Mom always told me I can learn a lot from a guy by the way he talks about his family.
“Sometimes others think it’s strange how close I am to my big brother, but they don’t know what it was like losing both parents and having your brother fight tooth and nail to make sure we could stay together. He could have given up on me or let me go to a foster home. Instead, he was there every night making sure I had a stuffie if I was scared, or building blanket forts with me just because he thought I should enjoy the little things life has to offer.”
“Your brother sounds like a good guy.” Clayton’s voice is sincere and not filled with judgment, like some other people’s might be. All night I talked about my brother and his boyfriend. I talked about how close I am with Adrian, and Clay just accepted it. He didn’t call me too clingy or needy like others did. He didn’t argue with me or tell me I should grow up. He just accepted it. Accepted me.
“He is a good guy,” I agree.
