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Chapter One

Galan

“Long time no see…sir.” Rico’s teasing tone pulled me from a conversation with some of the other daddies in the Chained conversation area. “May I take your order?” If we were in the little room, he might have called me Daddy Galan, but not because we were going to play together. We’d been friends since we were teens and had supported one another through a lot of years of self-discovery, but never as partners. As adorable as he could be, our friendship made it impossible for me to see him as anything more than a companion.

I ordered a whiskey neat, and the others added what they wanted before Rico went off to bring beverages and appetizers. Although I loved to come and play in the little room, some nights, it was so nice to just sit and relax and talk to the people who understood me best. Bridger sat next to me on this particular night, working on a crochet pattern on his tablet. Until we became friends, I never knew that a person could be so successful in that endeavor, but he was that and more.

A magazine lay on the low table between the sofas, and I picked it up. “Bridger, is this…it is you! What an honor.” The cover featured him sitting in a chair, creating one of his classics, the one he’d first made for his little, Hudson. “The duckie.”

“I make new patterns all the time, but what is still my bestselling, both pattern and kit?”

“The duck?”

“Absolutely. And it makes me happy because it reminds me of when we were first together, my boy and I.”

The boy in question sat on the floor, resting against his daddy’s calves, and he looked up and grinned. “The duckie is my favorite.”

He still has the first one I made him.” He ruffled the little’s hair. “Even though I’ve made several.”

“Congratulations on your magazine cover.”

“I was surprised when they asked me, but I agree, it’s an honor. They even had me do a little workshop with some contest winners. Can you believe an afternoon with me learning to make a duckie was the prize?”

“Yes, I can believe it. I’m sure they had a great time.”

Hudson climbed up and sat on the arm of the couch next to Bridger. “They had fun.”

“I hope as much as I did.” Bridger set his tablet aside and pulled his little onto his lap. “Hudson came along as my assistant, and we made a weekend getaway out of. it”

“One day, I would like to learn to crochet. It sounds so relaxing.” I watched their interaction, not jealous at all because I was very happy for them, but with longing. I hoped one day, I would meet someone who was as good a fit for me. Playing in the little room with random boys who asked me was nice, but a deep connection like these two had would be a priceless gift.

“Well, if you ever decide you really want to learn, just say the word.”

“I don’t want to add to your work. Do you do a lot of it when you’re home?”

“Even though it’s my job, I’m afraid the answer is yes. Sometimes, testing a new pattern or refining an old one because I think of a way to do it better. Other times, I just like to make things for the house or family or friends. And teaching someone to do it is the most fun of all. I might have a problem.”

“I can’t see that having a hobby that is also your livelihood and that makes you happy is a bad thing.” In fact, it sounded amazing to me. “What are you working on now?”

“It’s so cool!” Hudson patted his thigh. “Show him, Daddy.”

“Hopefully it will be cool. With the holidays coming, I had an idea for a Krampus.” Many of his designs were 3D. Crocheted animals and such. “I just don’t want it to be too scary, though. Want to see?”

I did, and he showed me what he was working on. Translating things into crochet sounded hard to me, but his explanation made it sound doable. Not by me… But his passion came across and reminded me how important it was to have one. I used to love baseball and at one time had dreamed of playing professionally, but an injury in my second year of college made me wish I’d accepted the contract offer I got right out of high school. My mother feared that if I didn’t have a college degree and my career didn’t take off, I’d be in trouble.

I enjoyed my job, but maybe I needed to find a league to play in.

My other hobby, repairing bicycles, had gone by the wayside long ago as well. I didn’t even find time to ride mine, much less thrift for old, rusty versions I could make into something special again.

Rico brought the drinks and snacks but didn’t stay to talk, with another group trying to get his attention, and I settled in to sip my whiskey and listen to the other daddies and their littles. But after a bit, they all decided to go to the little room and play.

“Let’s go, Reid.” Kevin stood and reached down for his little’s hand. “Coming, Galan?”

I think I’ll just chill here, tonight.” After watching them be together all evening, the couples who had relationships beyond the club, I just couldn’t face scening with someone I didn’t have something special with. I’d had a special boy in my life once, but it didn’t work out in the end. He’d had a good opportunity career-wise that involved moving, and our relationship did not hold up long distance. It had never extended far from the club and the little room, really. There was someone I had spotted a couple of times, but not lately, and I thought they might have also stopped coming.

After they left, Rico brought me another drink. “If you’re not playing, you usually have a second.”

“I do at that. Thanks.” I accepted the glass, gaze fixed on the amber liquid. “How’s your night going?”