“I need that too!” Alfie shouted, which only made Nathan smirk.
Before heading off, Spencer leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to Jamie’s lips—just a soft, warm brush that sent heat straight up to his ears.
Jamie momentarily forgot how to breathe. “Uh… wow, okay,” he mumbled, his voice cracking halfway through. He was surprised at the public display of affection.
Spencer grinned, smug but sweet. “Keep the table warm for me.”
Jamie could only manage a weak nod, cheeks blazing red. He glanced at Alfie, who was grinning like he’d just witnessed the best thing ever.
“Oh my God,” Alfie whispered loudly. “You’re so blushing.”
Jamie tried to hide his face in his scarf. “No, I’m just—cold. Very cold.”
“Sure,” Alfie said, bumping his shoulder. “Cold. Right.”
Jamie sighed, but a smile tugged at his lips anyway as he watched Spencer and Nathan walk toward the stand. He didn’t know what made him dizzier—the merry-go-round or that kiss.
The smell of French fries drifted over, but Jamie wasn’t really paying attention.
“So,” Jamie said, kicking at the gravel. “How many littles are going to the mixer?”
“Fifteen,” Alfie said, scrolling through his phone like it was no big deal. “And fifteen daddies too. Gonna be a full house.”
Jamie nodded, pretending that was just normal conversation. Then Alfie looked up with a sheepish grin but curious. “Hey, I read your application, by the way. You and I actually share a lot of the same needs.”
Jamie froze. “My—my what?”
“Your application,” Alfie repeated, like Jamie hadn’t heard him. “For the mixer. I was going through them last night. Yours was in the batch.”
Jamie stared at him, brain short-circuiting. “My application? What are you talking about? I didn’t apply for anything!” He was completely stunned. “Who sent in an application for me?”
Alfie shrugged. “I don’t know. It was just… there. In the pile.”
Jamie’s chest tightened as if a fist had grabbed it from the inside. He forced a little laugh, but it sounded brittle. An icy dread seeped into Jamie’s stomach. He didn’t say anything else, just stood up. “I need to hit the bathroom,” he mumbled. “Be right back.”
Jamie walked off, fast at first, then slower when his vision blurred. The laughter and carousel music faded behind him, replaced by the buzz of the midway and the distant shrieks from the rides. He found an empty bench under a half-dead tree and sat down, elbows on his knees, head hanging.
It had to be Spencer. Who else could’ve done something like that? The thought slammed into Jamie so hard it stole the air right out of his lungs. If Spencer had filled out that application, itmeant he’d already handed Jamie off—like he was some toy that had lost its shine, a project finished and filed away.
The realization hit like a punch straight to the gut. Spencer had no intention of keeping him.
All those talks, all the soft smiles and the gentle touches—every word made Jamie feel safe and seen—they all cracked apart in his head, breaking into sharp little pieces. Had any of it been real? Or had Spencer just been rehearsing?
Jamie’s chest ached as if something was splintering inside it, slow and mean. The memory of Spencer’s laugh, that easy warmth that made him feel like he mattered, now just hurt. Everything they’d built felt like smoke—something he’d reached for, trusted, and watched vanish right through his fingers.
The thought burned—hot and cold all at once. He tried to blink away the tears, but they kept slipping out anyway. Spencer had said things—kind things. He’d made Jamie feel wanted, safe even. And now, maybe all that had been temporary. Just a loan.
Jamie dug the heels of his palms into his eyes. He hated crying in public, even if no one was around. The park sounds dulled in the distance, muffled under the roar of his own thoughts.
Why didn’t he just tell me?
The question looped in his head until it hurt.
The thought of being replaced, of being just another disposable “little” in Spencer’s life, was unbearable. A wave of nausea washed over him.Was he so easily discarded?Was he so unlovable?With Daddy Tom dumping him and now Spencer, he must be a two-time loser. He pressed his hands against his eyes, trying to stop the flow of tears, but they kept coming, hot and relentless. He felt a crushing emptiness inside, a space where hope had once been. How could Spencer do this to him? How could he have been so blind?
Jamie sat on the bench, shoulders shaking, tears dripping down onto his hands. The world around him blurred—the laughter, the carousel music, the sugary smell of funnel cakes—it all felt miles away. All he could think about was Spencer. Spencer, who’d turned in an application for the Find a Daddy Christmas mixer.
At first, it was just sadness. That hollow, deep kind that made his chest ache like something had been scooped out of him. But as the crying slowed, a hot, sharp anger rose in its place. His cheeks were sticky with tears, his throat raw, and all he could think was—how could Spencer do this?
