Page 14 of Daddy’s Rules

I’d resisted the urge to seek Benji out on all social media platforms, and yet, the universe worked in the wildest way, putting him back in my path. Not directly, but maybe if I wasn’t impatient, we would’ve just bumped into each other. Instead, I had my car service drive me to the law office and wait for him. He’d already given me a look into his day, so I knew what time he had lunch and went to the gym. The universe had timed it perfectly for me.

Benji walked out of the law office dressed how I imagined he would as a paralegal, not too different from how he appeared at the Playhouse. He held an umbrella over his head, the threat of rain incoming from the gray rumbling cloud. He wore a burgundy sweater over his shirt and tie combo, tight slacks showing off his thighs, a pair of black polished boots, and over his shoulder, the heft of a duffle clearly tugging on him.

I climbed out of the car, right in front of him. He froze, and the biggest smile appeared on his face.

“Hey,” I said, holding the car door open. “Wanna go somewhere quiet?”

“I thought I’d never see you again,” he said, placing his hand to his chest, clearly overwhelmed.

“Good or bad?” I asked.

He giggled. “In a bad way. I—I didn’t know if you wanted to see me again.” He shrugged. “I couldn’t find your card, so I guessed you took it back.”

Stuffing a hand in my pocket, I pulled out the dust and dirt-covered card that had been under the booth seat he’d been at two weeks ago. “You dropped this at the diner.”

He gasped. “Oh god. I’m—”

“Come on,” I said.

Benji put his umbrella down and got into the back of the car with me. The space between us was occupied by his duffle bag, but there was still something electric there, like even this small obstacle of gym gear wasn’t going to get in the way. The car drove off; he knew to go to the diner. It was practically programmed into them whenever I called for a car. And I think I paid extra for it.

“I was hoping you’d find me,” he said.

I laughed. “And I hoped you’d find me.”

“I barely had any time,” he said, softly. “With work, exam prep, and all that, I—I actually went back to the diner, but it was busy, raining out, and I couldn’t immediately see you, so I left.”

“I thought I’d done something wrong,” I confessed. “It weighed on me, and I didn’t want to think you regretted our time together. I understand how intense a dynamic like that can be right off the bat.” He placed his hand out, fingers spaced, and my hand was a magnet, reacting, taking hold of him.

He squeezed my hand. “I didn’t think you’d come find me,” he said. “Even though I practically told you everything about me. But I also thought maybe you did that as an aspect of the play, you know . . . that you were acting. I don’t hold it against you, I know you’ve got things going on, and the last thing you need is me getting in your way, or making you think I was just trying to become a sugar baby.” He snorted at the phrase, then smiled. “Not that I’d ever want to be one, it’s not really my vibe.”

I took his hand and kissed the back of it, my lips pressed hard to his skin. “I wished I’d looked for you instead of you looking for me.”

He laughed hard. “And it wasn’t like I could go back to the club, not until the next non-member night.”

I shook my head. “That’s just unacceptable,” I said.

“Yeah, well, it’s all I can do right now,” he said.

“No,” I whispered. “Let’s try this again.” My heart beat hard. “I’ll pay for it. I want you there.”

“I’m not letting—”

“Good boys get rewards, and you’ve been waiting patiently,” I said.

Benji’s eyes flashed a glance to the driver, who might’ve been listening, but none of that mattered. I’d made my mind up, and now I had Benji with me, we were going to put that next time on the calendar, assuming he wanted that.

“Let’s talk it out over lunch,” I said, kissing his hand again. “Obviously, you can say no, and that’s fine.”

“No,” he let out. “I mean, no I’m not gonna say no, I’m—” He pushed his lips hard into a thin line, his cheeks immediately rosy. “I’d love to have lunch, and I’ll accept my reward.”

“Plural,” I told him, leaning in. “Rewards.”

We kissed, and he really was burning up at the cheeks.

I gave him one final good boy to watch him squirm in his seat, and then we arrived at the diner. It was just a few steps away, but before that, I forced him to put my number in his phone, on the off chance either of us were whisked away—by a strong breeze, or unexpected work call.

The second date night at the Playhouse was coming.