My eyes started to well up with stupid, overly-sensitive tears despite my very best efforts to hold them in check, and then my heart really started to pound, because I’d already ruined things with Jules and now I was ruining the last few hours I had with Daddy, and even if he wasn’t really my Daddy, Jules had been right, I wanted one.
I wanted him.
Daddy Roman.
And if I couldn’t have him forever, I definitely didn’t want to spoil whatever time I had left.
“Isaac.” Daddy said my name in that sharp, sexy New York accent that made my whole body react from my head to my toes (and especially between my legs).
I sat up straight, grateful—even though I hated the idea that he wasn’t happy with me—that he was taking charge.
“Good boy. Now tell me what’s wrong,” he said, just as firmly but not actually sounding mad. “I can’t help if you won’t tell me.”
“I can’t,” I whispered, trying to hold out even though I wanted Daddy’s help more than anything, out of loyalty to Jules.
But Daddy was in charge, so if he made me…
“You can,” Daddy said, leaving no room to argue. “And I want to hear it right now, beautiful.”
And I didn’t want to disappoint him.
“Anything, Isaac,” he said more gently. “You can tell me, or ask me, anything at all.”
I did have one question. A burning one. And I shouldn’t ask, but he’d said I could, and it was better than outing Jules’ lie—well, our lie, so…
“Do you, um…” I pushed the bowl of porridge the waiter had just delivered away from me, then mustered my courage and looked up, meeting Daddy’s eyes. “Do you really have to go back to New York after this weekend?”
There. It wasn’t exactly the question I wanted an answer to, but it was moving in the right direction.
If I’d had half of Jules’ confidence and guts, I could have just come right out and asked if he wanted me after this weekend, but I didn’t have that confidence. That had always been one of the many things I’d relied on Jules for. One of the many things I’d have to learn to do for myself, if Jules decided he never wanted to speak to me again after the liberties I’d taken last night, and how clingy I’d been all weekend.
That wouldn’t happen though, would it? Jules had reminded me we weren’t boyfriends, but we were still, would always be, best friends. He still loved me. It was okay that it wasn’t the same way I loved him.
Or at least, it was better than nothing.
Daddy made a low, rumbly noise from somewhere deep in his chest.
He hadn’t answered my question.
I wasn’t sure if that was a good sign, or if he was just trying to find a way to let me down easy. His expression was… well, it was sexy. He was always sexy. I hadn’t even realized I had a thing for big, strong, commanding men with crinkly laugh lines and before this weekend. I’d thought Jules was my type, and he was… but I guess a boy could have two types?
So, yeah. Daddy’s expression was sexy, but also super hard to read.
He looked… conflicted.
Maybe a little worried?
Which was probably not a good sign at all.
My heart started to sink. I’d really thought… God. I’d misread everything. Both of them. Wanted way too much, even though I’d known Jules was pretending and he’d told me we were just going to find a Daddy to, um, do things with. To see if I liked it. Just for the weekend.
None of it was real, and none of it had ever been meant to last, and here I’d gone and made it awkward for both Jules and Daddy Roman. I was literally the worst.
“I’m sorry,” I said, grabbing the toast off my plate and crumbling the edge into bits. “Of course you do. I’ve heard it’s really nice there. You must love it.”
“I do like New York,” Daddy said, taking the toast away from me, brushing off my hands, kissing the tips of my fingers, and then holding them in his so I couldn’t fidget anymore. “But before I answer, beautiful, can you tell me why you’re asking?”
His voice was low and quiet and it should have been soothing despite the fact that the raucous music and upbeat brunch crowd around us were anything but. But no, I wasn’t soothed. And no, I didn’t want him to ask why I was asking. I just wanted him to answer me.
