I change out of my whites, slipping into a dark Henley and jeans, the fabric soft against my skin after a long shift. Danny's text earlier confirmed he's waiting—eager, sweet boy that he is. We agreed on a quick beer, something casual before I drop him at the hotel.
But after today, I need the unwind.
I need my boy.
Danny is outside when I step out the back door, bundled in a jacket against the chill, Lexi peeking from his pocket like a purple sentinel. His face lights up when he sees me, that shy grin melting some of the day's tension.
"Hey, Daddy. Good service?"
"Outstanding," I reply, pulling him into a quick hug, inhaling his clean scent of soap and faint sawdust from the site. "Ready for that beer?"
“Yup,” Danny says. He nods, falling into step beside me as we walk the quiet streets.
The city is settled into late-night mode—most shops shuttered, streetlights casting golden pools on the frost-kissed sidewalks. The air is crisp, biting at our cheeks, carrying the distant hum of traffic and the occasional laugh from a passing group.
Snow threatens in the clouds above, heavy and gray, but for now, it's just us, boots crunching softly. It feels so right, so comfortable. It’s crazy to think that we’ve know each other for such a short time because truthfully our bond seems so much deeper than that.
We walk in comfortable silence at first, my arm slung over his broad shoulders—he has to hunch to make it work, but he leansin anyway. Then we work it out much better. My arms goes around his lower back. Now we fit perfectly.
Then it spills out…
"Rough day beyond the rush," I admit, voice low. "Antonio... he's been offered head chef in New York. It’s a big opportunity."
Danny glances up, concern etching his features.
"That's... huge for him,” Danny says, seeing that this is complex. “But bad for you?"
I nod, exhaling a cloud of breath.
"I’m terrified of losing him, honestly,” I say. “He's the best I've got. Innovative, reliable. The restaurant runs smoother with him. But I can't hold him back. It's what he needs. Challenge, growth. Persuading him to stay feels selfish. Like clipping his wings." I think of Laurent again, how he let me go without guilt. "I want to be the mentor who builds up, not the one who pushes down and kills ambition."
Danny squeezes my hand, his massive one engulfing mine.
"You'll think of something, Daddy. You're smart like that. And me and Lexi, we'll brainstorm ideas too!" He pats his pocket where the dragon stuffie nestles, voice slipping into that adorable Little lilt. "Lexi says you're the bestest chef ever, so you'll figure it out."
I can't help but chuckle, the sound rumbling deep as I pull him closer.
"You and Lexi, huh? My secret consultants," I laugh. “You’d be better than most of those fancy ass Ivy League consultants that are constantly screwing around with restaurants.”
Danny’s optimism cuts through the worry, lightening the load.
This boy is big as a bear, with a heart pure and open.
We reach the corner outside the bar—a cozy spot with neon signs flickering "Open Late," a few patrons visible through fogged windows.
But before we step in, I stop, turning to face him.
The streetlamp catches his eyes, wide and hopeful.
Something shifts—the air charged, intimate despite the cold. I cup his cheek, thumb brushing his jaw.
"Thank you, darling boy,” I say. “For listening. For... being you."
Danny blushes, leaning in. Our lips meet—passionate, hungry. His mouth soft yet demanding, tasting faintly of mint, hands gripping my coat as I deepen it, claiming him right there on the sidewalk.
It's fire and comfort, a promise in the quiet night.
We break apart breathless, foreheads touching.
