Page 7 of Space Daddy and a Boy Called Twink

“Twink?”

Is he seriously gonna keep calling me that? Not that I mind…

“Are you hurt?” he asked.

“Uh…I…” I searched around, unsure what to even think of what happened since I could’ve sworn his scream pushed me back like it was a physical force, but that was ridiculous. I must’ve jumped back from how it frightened me. I definitely wasn’t expecting that wild-ass noise to come from this guy’s mouth.

He had his hand on the small of my back, worry in his expression, and honestly, if this was how he was gonna treat me when he was worried, maybe I could pretend to be hurt. Not that I would have done that.

“I’m fine. Thanks for catching me.”

But how did he get up that quickly?

He studied my mouth, grinning for a reason I couldn’t work out.

“Everything okay?” I asked.

“Just happy to understand you.”

What a strange thing to say…

His brows tugged together before he added, “I mean, that you’re okay.”

I laughed. “I’m glad you’re okay too. You were so out of it last night.”

“Out of it?”

“Drunk.”

“I was drunk? As in I consumed too much alcohol and you noticed that altering my behavior?”

I winced. “Maybe it’s not totally out of your system yet. Sorry, what was your name?”

“It’s me, Daddy,” he said, as though I’d forgotten the joke from last night.

“You’re funny.”

His expression twisted up, which was odd. I assumed he might have just had a strange sense of humor. I waited for him to give me his actual name, but we stood there, staring awkwardly at each other. Not that I had a problem staring at that beautiful face…or those hypnotic blue eyes, with these little ridges of white, like spikes almost, or icicles. The sort that had the power to distract me from the lingering effects of my hangover.

“Anyway…” I dragged out, “if you forgot my name…”

“Oh, I remember,” he said, which made me blush. Although, I didn’t remember telling him my name—not a huge shocker, given how tipsy I got.

“In that case, I appreciate you carrying me home last night.”

“It was my pleasure.”

“Mkay, so…would you like to stay for waffles?”

“Waffles?”

I had to chuckle. “For breakfast. Unless you had something else planned.”

“For instance?” he inquired, as though it were a serious question.

I laughed, much louder this time. “You’re so weird, Daddy. Come on. I’ll make you some waffles. Big guy like you must eat a few. How many you want?”

“I’m not really sure,” he replied as I led him out of my room.