“It was fate. I didn’t know you. You didn’t know me. But you looked in the window. It could’ve been any night. I might have stayed home. We never would’ve met.”
“You make a good case. I’m starting to believe.”
“You could make a case for it, too. You’re the lawyer.”
I grabbed the salad and filled my bowl. “I’d start by looking up the exact definition of the word.”
Sage pulled out his phone and began tapping it. I filled his salad bowl while I waited.
“Here it is. Fate is the unstoppable, predetermined force or principle that controls events, steering life toward an inevitable outcome or destination.”
“Oh dear.” I gave him my funny face. “Then I would ask if we have free will.”
He frowned. “Me, too. Because I believe in that, too.” He set down his phone and picked up his fork. “This smells great.”
“Dig in.”
He had a few bites, then said, “Maybe luck is the better word? Not so dark. Unless it’s bad luck.”
“I do like that word. But again….” I paused.
He quickly filled in exactly what I had planned to say. “You believe in making your own luck.”
“You’re smart,” I said.
He smiled, then shoved a huge bite of spaghetti into his mouth. It wasn’t the best food choice for tidy eating, but I loved it and so, it seemed, did he.
“Maybe some part of both of us knew in a different way than regular language that we needed to be at the club at just that right moment,” Sage said. “Like something felt right in our hearts and we were ready to see it. To feel it.”
“I definitely agree.” What a smart boy. And he over-thought things just like me. What were the odds?
Check, again, for instant compatibility.
“I’m glad,” he said. “I’d miss you if we’d never met.”
I laughed. “But you’d never know.”
“I think I might know on some level deep inside.” He set down his fork and took a deep breath. “I have something to tell you.”
“What?”
“I don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“What happened last Friday. I don’t become a baby little in public. Not usually. It’s very rare. It’s a private thing. Most men hate it anyway.”
“They do? Well, I don’t.”
“I know that about you. You’re different. More real or something.”
When I’d thought about being in a daddy role, I didn’t think it through. Now that he said that, I realized it wasn’t exactly a role. I hadn’t been schooled at all by my Internet search. No research actually informed me beyond mere kink scenes.
I thought back over our date, buying the unicorn, our texts, and most especially my craving to hold him again. I was just being… me. It wasn’t a scene.
The revelation made me sit back hard in my chair.
“Why did you let yourself go in the littles room if you never had before?”
