Chapter
Twenty
KEANE
The phone buzzes against my desk. I recognize the number instantly—Adiel, my friend from The Playground, the kink club I belong to.
“Keane,” Adiel says, warm as ever. “I heard you’ve been dipping a toe into the Daddy scene again.”
I groan, loosening my tie. “Let’s call it… exploratory. Why?”
Adiel laughs. “Tomorrow night, the Littles are hosting an ice cream social. You might enjoy it.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Ice cream? Great. I wouldn’t have taken Oren out for a triple scoop this week if I'd known that.”
Adiel chuckles. “So, you’ve been seeing him? The one you connected with on the forum?”
I pause, choosing my words carefully. “Just… spending time. Getting to know him. He’s… special.”
Adiel whistles softly. “I can believe that. Kid’s got a spark. You’d make a damn fine Daddy for him.”
A knot tightens in my chest. “I’m treading carefully. I don’t want to overstep.”
Adiel chuckles again. “Careful’s good. Just… Not too careful, ya’ know? Don’t let the past hold you back.”
A pulse of resolve spreads through me. “You’re right. I just… I don’t want to mess it up. Oren… Oren needs more than anyone has ever asked of me before. Not that that’s a problem for me. I want to be what he needs. I want more than that. I just don’t want to disappoint him. What if I wind up hurting him instead of healing him?”
“Spoken like a true Daddy. You won’t,” Adiel says. “Just pay attention. Watch for the warning signs, but don’t forget the good stuff too. That kid needs you, Keane. And I’ve got a hunch you’re gonna need him too.”
I smile faintly, heart tight with a mix of pride and anxiety. “Yeah… I think you’re right.” I scrub my face and settle back in my chair. “But listen, there’s something else. I need you to be on the lookout. Vince Marlowe. If his name comes up for membership, don’t let him through the door. He’s trouble.”
“I’ll take your word for it. Don’t be a stranger. And next time you pop in, introduce me properly to your boy.”
His chuckle is cut off as the call disconnects. My protective instincts are on high alert, but I need to shed that skin when I’m with Oren and just be present with him. When we’re together, it’s so good, and I don’t want to miss a minute of it.
I sink back into the couch, staring at nothing. I should be winding down, thinking about tomorrow, the social, the flood of sugar-drunk Littles. But all I can see is Oren’s grin under the stars, flashlight beam dancing across his cheeks. All I can hear is the way he whisperedGoodnight, Daddylike it was a secret between us.
The world’s full of people who’d take advantage of him, who’d twist that sweetness into something ugly. Not on my watch. Not ever.
Tomorrow night, I’ll make damn sure of it.
My phone buzzes on the coffee table. My pulse jumps, half-expecting more bad news. But it’s from Oren.
A picture.
It takes me a second to register what I’m looking at. It’s us, me with an arm slung casually around his shoulders, him beaming brighter than sunshine. The photo is jammed into the popsicle stick frame he made at camp, crooked twigs and blobs of glue holding it all together. A bit of moss dangles over my forehead as if I’ve sprouted a lopsided wig.
This is my safe thing,the text underneath says.Makes me feel less small. Shy small, not Little small,he clarifies.
I chuckle under my breath, but it dies quickly, chest tightening as though someone’s cinched a strap around me. That ridiculous frame, his proud little smile—it’s not just a craft project. It’s him, telling me I matter. That I make him feel cherished and protected.
And damn if my heart doesn’t squeeze so hard it hurts.
I thumb back a reply.
“You make me proud, boy. Every damn day.”
The Playground looks different tonight.Less leather and shadows, more twinkle lights strung across the ceiling and folding tables groaning under tubs of neon-colored ice cream. Someone’s blasting a bubblegum pop playlist that feels wildly out of place in a kink club, but judging by the happy chaos, the Littles and Middles are eating it up.
