He laughed, but it wasn’t right. “Nothing’s wrong. Just checking in. I hadn’t heard from you, so I thought I’d give you a call. You doing okay?”
I stared at the floor. The scarred linoleum, the edge of my sock, anything but the phone. “I’m fine. I have a job. I’m…healthy.”
He hummed, like he didn’t believe me. “Glad to hear it. Listen, I got a letter for you, from the old family solicitor? Said it was important. I need your address to pass it on.”
My stomach dropped. I didn’t want to give him Walker’s address. I didn’t want to give him anything.
“I can just…I’m not at my apartment right now,” I mumbled, panic starting to claw at my throat. “I’m staying with a friend.”
“Sure, sure. You doing okay though?” He pressed it, just like always. “If you need anything, you know I’m always here.”
Which was insane.A lie.
I heard the bell rattle on the door, and not knowing if it was Walker I grabbed at an excuse.
“I have to go,” I blurted, not even thinking. “My ride’s here.”
A beat of silence at the other end. “Right, right. Well, you call me back and give me an address. The letter might be important, Charlotte.”
“Yeah,” I said, voice so thin I barely heard it. “I will.”
He hung up without saying goodbye, but I couldn’t let it get to me because if Walker thought my job was upsetting me he wouldn’t let me come back, so I plastered a smile on my face and walked out.
He looked so happy to see me, the chill I’d felt at Uncle Stephen calling me disappeared and I didn’t give it any more thought.
I had a perfect afternoon with Walker. We watched cartoons. Abby had given us a list and Walker had even queued up a few in advance, but all I really wanted was to curl up next to him in the corner of the couch and not move for about a year. Or maybe forever. He let me, just hauled me into his lap and wrapped a blanket around my shoulders, his palm smoothing slow circles over my hip like it was the most natural thing in the world. After a shower, checking my sugar, and eating dinner, he made popcorn, the kind with barely any salt and zero butter, but the whole room filled up with the smell and I couldn’t stop giggling when he burned the first bag. He looked at me like maybe I’d hung the actual moon. When we finally sat down to watch the movie, I dropped more pieces than I got in my mouth. He never complained. Just fed me pieces out of his own hand, thumb brushing my lip every time I missed. I felt ridiculous. Wildly soft. I didn’t even know what movie was on, but it didn’t matter.
Sometime later, he checked my blood sugar again. He did it so quickly I barely even noticed, then grunted in approval at the number and tucked me closer. I melted. I didn’t even mindwhen he put on a heist movie which wasn't usually my thing. He watched with his chin hooked over my shoulder, not even pretending to care about the plot as long as I was smiling.
Somewhere in there, I must have zoned out because the next thing I knew, the room was darker, the movie over, and Walker was murmuring into his phone in the kitchen. I blinked, squinting at the clock. Only ten, but it felt like midnight. My whole body was loose and warm and floaty. All I wanted was to go to bed and never leave.
He found me exactly where he’d left me. Just scooped me up, Mr. Snuggles cradled between us, and carried me upstairs like I weighed nothing at all.
“You want to brush your teeth, or you want Daddy to help?” His voice was barely above a whisper, but it made my stomach flutter straight down between my legs.
I couldn’t even answer, just nodded. He set me on the edge of the bathroom counter and got the toothbrush ready, putting the paste on for me. I should have been embarrassed. I wasn’t. Not at all. The way his big hands steadied my chin, the gentle way he wiped my mouth after—I would have let him do it every day for the rest of my life.
Then it was bedtime. I half expected him to take me to the spare room, but he didn’t. Walker stripped me out of the hoodie with slow, deliberate movements, like every inch of skin was worth a moment of his time. He left the socks on. Kissed my hair, my cheeks, the tip of my nose, before laying me down so carefully I could have cried.
He didn’t even wait until he was under the covers before his hands were on me. I didn’t want slow, not really. I wanted him to just take me, but the way he looked at me as he peeled down my leggings made my brain go blank. He spent forever just looking, like he was studying me for a test he had no intention of failing.
Every touch was perfect. Every drag of his palm. Every whisper of his skin on mine. I couldn’t even think enough to hide, just let my body melt underneath him, so desperate I felt like I might shake apart if he didn’t touch me everywhere, all at once, right now.
“Good girl,” he murmured, voice rougher now, and his mouth covered mine. Not soft. Not asking. Just taking, the way I wanted him to. I opened for him, and he kissed me until my lips went numb, until I forgot everything except his taste and the weight of his body pinning mine to the mattress.
He didn’t bother with teasing. Walker bared me straight down to the little white cotton panties and fuzzy socks, took one long look at me sprawled out on his bed, and I swear I saw something wild flicker through his eyes before he bent and kissed the inside of my thigh. Slowly. Then again, a little higher, until the heat of his breath made me whimper.
He didn’t rush. He just palmed my hips, slow and gentle, and traced fingers up under the edge of my t-shirt, knuckles dragging over my skin. “You’re shaking,” he whispered, but he didn’t sound worried. Just hungry. “You need Daddy to take care of you, don’t you?”
I nodded so hard I thought my head might snap off. “Please. I want you so bad it hurts.”
He growled, actually growled, and then slid my panties down, still careful, never making it scary, just inevitable. The air on my skin was cold, but his hands were hot, and it made me shiver in a way that turned every bone in my body to jelly.
He spread my legs and settled between them, bracing himself on his elbows so he could see every inch of me. “You’re soaked. Jesus, Lottie.” His thumb brushed my clit, and I nearly arched off the bed.
He made a sound deep in his chest and pressed his mouth to my belly. I squeezed my eyes shut because looking at him madeit worse, made it too much. But then he touched me, really touched me, fingers gentle, sliding through the wetness and stroking that bundle of nerves until I went liquid inside.
He circled and pressed, teasing but never cruel, and I couldn’t help it—I rocked against his hand, desperate for more. Every time I whimpered, he praised me, told me what a good girl I was, how perfect I looked. It wrecked me. I sobbed his name and begged without even meaning to.
