Fuck, I'm doing my best not to see that.
He's Sebastian, for fuck's sake.
I shouldn't be looking at him in any other way. But what he said is true… he's no longer a teenager. He's twenty-two years old.
"I know you're not a kid," I finally say.
"Do you? Do you really know it?" he challenges.
"I do," I insist.
He studies me, then shakes his head. "No. You don't." His voice is flat, defeated. The way he lowers his head twists something in my gut.
"Hey, I-" I start, but he cuts me off.
"It's fine. Don't worry about it. I get it."
He stands, and I follow, unsure what to say.
"I'll be heading out. We'll see each other at the club," he says, heading for the door.
I follow him and say, "Yeah. Thanks for the breakfast."
He spins around so fast I nearly collide with him.
"Silly. I only prepared it. It was your ingredients, so technically it's your breakfast."
"I don't see it like that."
"Well, I do." He rises on his toes and kisses my cheek. I freeze.
Then he whispers in my ear, "Thank you for yesterday and today, Daddy Ezrah."
A shiver runs through me at the sound of my name tangled with Daddy. He doesn't wait for a response, just slips out, shutting the door behind him.
I'm left staring at the empty space, confused and conflicted.
It was one thing for Sebastian to call me Daddy back when he half-saw me as a father figure. It's another thing entirely to hear it now, with my name, like it's the sweetest word in his life.
It makes my heart race, my brain tangle, and my dick too interested in someone it shouldn't be.
I need to sit him down and talk about this Daddy thing. He's probably saying it out of habit. That's all.
So why then, even after deciding that, does the thought of Sebastiannotcalling me Daddy make me want to rage and push him in the opposite direction, make him always call me that?
***
My shift tonight went smoothly, no problems like yesterday. If I checked on the bar more times than necessary, it was only to ensure everything was running smoothly.
Sebastian was his usual cheery self, and I was glad to see him like this.
Probably because he looked so happy, I didn't expect him to see him again at my door tonight.
"Sebastian? What are you doing here?" I say as I let him in.
"I figured since you technically still owe me a drink, we can have one tonight."
I notice the bag he's holding. "At my apartment?"
