The server eyed him this time, lingering on his cut and hoodie. “There’s an upcharge of?—”
“Yes, I know. That’s fine. And I’ll take the filet mignon, medium rare, with the mashed potatoes and gravy.” He held the guy’s gaze as he added, “And let Roman know that Rooster is here and would love to say hi if he has a minute.”
The blood drained from the server’s face, and he quickly nodded and fled. Emmett watched him go, eyes wide, then whipped back around to Rooster.
“Who’s Roman?”
“The owner and head chef.” Rooster took a deep breath to find his calm again, not wanting to spend any more time upset at the little shit. “Now, back to what we were talking about…”
Emmett squinted, eyes going unfocused for a second. It was fucking adorable, and so was the blush that crept back up overhis cheeks as he remembered what they’d been discussing before the interruption. “Oh, um…”
When he didn’t continue, Rooster smiled gently at him and gave his hands a slight squeeze. “Are you worried there are certain things you may want from a daddy that he won’t be interested in giving you, sweet boy?”
He nodded, eyes downcast. Rooster waited him out though, rubbing his thumbs over the backs of his hands. After a few moments, Emmett peeked up at him, teeth tugging at his bottom lip. “Yes, that’s… that’s what I meant. I wasn’t sure if ordering for their little was just something daddies did in books.”
Rooster’s interest piqued further, and he cocked his head. “Is that how you learned about being little? From books?”
Those damn dimples appeared again, making Rooster’s heart skip a beat. Emmett dropped his gaze to their entwined hands, using his thumb to trace around one of Rooster’s fingernails. “Books and the internet. I know not everything is going to be accurate, but…”
“But what, sweet boy?”
“The first time I read a book with a little in it… something just clicked into place in my head.” The low, romantic lighting turned Emmett’s eyes into molten gold, and he studied Rooster’s face, completely unaware how he was stealing Rooster’s heart with his shy looks and brave honesty. “Does that make sense?”
“It makes perfect sense,” Rooster assured him, his voice a little huskier. “I felt the same way at the first BDSM class we held at the clubhouse.”
“What?” Emmett shot upright, nearly jerking his fingers free from his hold. “Wait, wait, wait. Is that what Ollie meant by Houston’s classes?”
It took him a second to remember the exchange with Ollie and Knuckles while they decorated cookies. “Yeah. This summer, Houston and a friend of his who’s also a Dom started leading classes and shit at the clubhouse to teach any members and their partners about the lifestyle.”
“Wow.” Emmett’s eyes were enormous. “That’s so cool.”
Rooster chuckled. “It was. They did a whole series, and next month, the club is going to host its first BDSM party. We can go if you want, but if that’s not your thing, we don’t have to.”
Somehow, his eyes got even bigger. “I… I don’t know.”
He gave his fingers another squeeze. “There’s no pressure. You can think about it. Why don’t you tell me another thing you’re interested in, but you’re not sure a daddy will want to give you?”
“Um.”
He held back a grimace as Emmett’s face flushed an alarming shade of red, head whipping around to stare in horror at the young woman standing at the end of their table. She was holding their drinks and kept her eyes averted as she set them in front of them, muttered an apology, and speed walked away.
“Oh my gosh.” Emmett tugged his hands free and covered his face. “We have to leave.”
Rooster chuckled, but his mouth snapped shut when the sweet boy actually slid his hands down to glare at him.
“It’s not funny,” Emmett hissed, leaning over the table. “She heard you say?—”
“Little boy, she’s heard worse. I canpromiseyou that.”
Most of his ire drained away, his soft-looking lips turning to a pout as he slumped over the table, resting his head on his folded arms and whimpering. “That doesn’t make me feel much better.”
“Poor thing,” Rooster said softly, reaching over and gently carding his fingers through the short hairs on the back of Emmett’s head. He didn’t push him to sit up or stop being dramatic. Rooster couldn’t give two shits about someone seeing Emmett’s little breakdown. It was more important to him to offer space and comfort.
After a few quiet moments, Emmett sighed and turned his head so his chin was resting on his arms. Rooster brushed his fingers over the delicate curve of his ear as he pulled his hand back, pleased as punch when Emmett shivered, lips parting slightly.
He stared at Rooster, eyes darting back and forth over his face like he was searching for something. His shoulders moved as he took a deep breath and then said softly, “Bath time.”
Fuck, he was proud of him.
