I order a buttery croissant and a strawberry-banana smoothie, then settle at a window table. The first bite of the warm, flaky pastry is perfect. I sip the smoothie and try to let the normal morning routine calm me.
But something feels…off.
I have the strangest sensation that I’m being watched. My skin prickles. I glance around casually: other patrons reading, typing on laptops, chatting. No one is obviously staring. Still, the feeling won’t go away. My mind spirals.
What if Kane followed me?
What if he has people watching me right now?
What if… what if he’s not a good guy at all?
I set the croissant down, appetite suddenly gone. Last night felt like a fever dream… intense, erotic, overwhelming. But in the cold light of morning it hits me fully: I let a complete stranger spank me with a ruler in a public library. I let him put me on display. I came home and fucked myself senseless thinking about him.
And I knownothingabout him.
Kane could be anyone. A criminal. A dangerous man. A freakin’ serial killer.
Whatever he is, Kane might be the kind of person normal boys like me should run from, not run toward. My hands start to shake around my smoothie glass.
I pull out my phone with trembling fingers and open our message thread. My thumbs move before I can overthink it…
WILLIAM: I never want to see you again. It’s too much. I can’t. Please don’t contact me.
I hit send, heart pounding so hard I feel dizzy. Then I power the phone completely off and shove it into my backpack. I leave half the croissant and most of the smoothie behind, grab my things, and hurry out of the café.
The morning streets feel too bright, too loud. Every person who glances my way makes my paranoia spike. I walk faster, almost jogging toward my bike.
What have I done?
I unlocked something inside myself with Kane. Something dark and needy and terrifying. And now I’m running from it as fast as I can.
I pedal home with tears stinging my eyes, the city blurring around me. Twist bounces in my backpack like a silent witness to my panic.
I don’t know if I’m more afraid of Kane… or of how much I already crave him like nothing I’ve ever felt before.
* * *
I don’t go straight home.
My legs pedal on autopilot, but instead of turning toward my apartment building, I steer toward Davey’s neighborhood.
Right now, I need a big dose of Little BFF.
The familiar route calms me a little: the tree-lined streets, the cute row houses, the way everything feels softer and safer overhere. By the time I lock my bike outside his charming brick townhouse, my hands have mostly stopped shaking.
Without further ado, I knock on the bright blue door with my heart still racing.
Davey opens it wearing an oversized hoodie and short-shorts, his curly hair piled on top of his head. One look at my face and his smile drops. “William? What’s wrong?”
“Can I crash here for a couple of days?” The words tumble out before I can soften them. “Please? I just… I need tonotbe alone right now.”
“Of course,” Davey says immediately, stepping aside and pulling me into a hug before I’ve even crossed the threshold. “You never have to ask. Come in, come in.”
Davey’s townhouse is beautiful. High ceilings, big windows, original woodwork restored by his rich parents… but he’s never been snobby about it.
Davey treats the place like a giant cozy fort. There are fairy lights strung everywhere, plush blankets draped over every couch, and the faint smell of vanilla candles. It feels like a hug in building form.
We head straight upstairs to his delightful playroom on the second floor. It’s my favorite room in the entire house: soft pastel walls, a huge beanbag corner, shelves full of stuffies and toys, and a low table perfect for coloring or studying.
