Page 7 of Daddy's Little Drummer Boy
He stared at me, his eyes wide.
“I’m gonna eat my cookie now.” I took a big bite. All sense of professionalism was gone, leaving behind this awkward silence.
“I’m sorry,” he said, turning to leave.
“Please, you don’t have to go,” I called after him.
I wasn’t sure if he heard me or not because Miss Lily came back in to tell me she had a task for me and break time was over. Even if he had decided to stay, it was too late. I had ruined everything.
No. Not me. Cancer.I can never get away from it.
Fuck you, cancer. Fuck you.
Chapter Six
Nick
The evening was going so well, then I had to mess it up.
The Little Christmas was sparkling with fun, all sorts of crafts and treats, and Santa, of course, and I had agreed to go as much to be there for the single littles as for myself. But once I was in the door, I was swept up in the excitement. Our usual gathering spot at the couches had been completely deserted, the littles not wanting to miss a minute of the fun.
And, if they were honest, the daddies would have to admit the same. No grumbles about glitter on a night such as this. Their littles would fall asleep in the car on the way home, shedding sparkles every time they moved, visions of sugar plums or at least Santa’s sleigh in their heads. This was one of the times I wished there was someone going to be wrecking my upholstery with glitter and finger paint and cookie crumbs.
I’d been so hopeful about the promotion, being home more and able to have my own little, if I met one who wanted to be mine. Probably just as well that I’d made such a bad impression on the Little Drummer Boy. What did I have to offer him? A daddy once or twice a month and having to get by on his own the rest of the time?
That would be unfair.
I should go home and not risk making him feel any worse than I already had.
Still, I’d stepped into a joyful situation and taken the shine right off it. He had been so happy when I brought him the cookies and cocoa.
“Nick? Where are you going?” Bridger laid a hand on my arm. “Come and sit for a minute.”
“It’s okay, Bridger. Go back to Hudson and the others, and I’ll just head home.”
He guided me to the conversation area and pushed me down on the sofa. “Sit.”
The server stopped by and he ordered us two of their holiday special cocktails. “Grapefruit gin fizz for me and I think…bourbon punch for my sad daddy friend here. Sound good, Nick?”
“Sure, since you’re determined to keep me here.” I slumped in the seat. “After my gaffe.”
“I overheard the Little Drummer Boy asking you not to leave. So he couldn’t have been as offended or upset as you seem to think.”
“Why are you so concerned?” Bridger had never been one to interfere with anyone’s relationships, in my experience.
“Because we’ve been friends for a long time, and for nearly all of it, you’ve been alone.” He held my gaze, not letting me get away with anything. The daddy way.
“That’s true.”
“And every little you play with thinks you’re great. So why are you going home all by yourself every night?”
“Work?” It was no secret that I spent most nights in hotel beds. “And, while I had a hope that would change this year, it’s not going to.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.” Bridger accepted the glasses from the server and handed me mine. “You did mention that a while back. How long are you going to let those people take advantage of you? Everyone is entitled to a personal life.”
“We can’t all be self-employed.” Bridger’s crochet pattern business was way more successful than I’d believed such an enterprise could ever be. “But you’re right. I can’t continue on the way I have been. In the new year, I’ll be looking for something else.”
“Good idea. But let’s talk about tonight. That adorable boy asked you to stay, not to accept him as your little or to marry him. You’re not going to ghost him, are you?”
