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Astrid cracked a smile. “Littles is a generic heading for a fairly detailed range of subcategories. How about I accept your term of Middle if you accept the qualifying description as Little?”
It was my turn to crack a smile. “I can do that. My name is Shelby.” I glanced down the hallway toward the entrance. Even saying my name made me think of the online creepo and a noticeable shudder zapped through me.
“Would you like your usual strawberry daiquiri, I believe it is?”
“Wow, you must have an eidetic memory?”
“I do. Now how about that drink?”
“I’d prefer a paralyzer, please. I need something a little stronger than a daiquiri tonight.”
I watched as Astrid made my drink.
“You need something stronger. Care to share why?” she asked, placing my drink down on a coaster.
“I have a stalker.”
“The same guy who was banned for three months?”
I felt the blush spread across my cheeks like twin flickers of flame.
“Uh, no. That was a—someone else. I game professionally, like for a living, and someone sent me some nasty messages telling me they were coming for me.”
I downed half my paralyzer. “They have my address. I didn’t know what to do, and my only friend Dahlia wasn’t answering her phone, so I came here because it is the only safe place I know.”
Astrid eyed me speculatively, her face maintaining her icy composure. I realized now it was just her look, she herself was a fairly warm, caring person.
“The Middles’ room is free tonight. How about I reserve it for you?”
“Oh, holy sweet relief, yes! But, um, Astrid, I gave a fake name at the coat check in case that creepy guy comes looking for me here. I’m not sure what he’s learned about me other than my real name and address. Could you please book the room under a different name? Even a guy’s name would be great, just, you know, in case?”
My voice caught, and I made the mistake of looking at her directly instead of my hands clasping and unclasping on my lap. Her look of sympathy set off the tears that I’d been struggling to hold back. I stood up abruptly or rather, hopped off the stool.
“I’ll go now, thanks again for listening.” I almost ran on my Mary Janes all the way to the room and, once inside, leaned against the back of the door, taking in deep breaths. I was feeling completely unhinged and volatile, not good company to be around.
It looked like some items had been added since my last visit when I played with Daddy Baldor. Oh boy, the waterworks started again as I thought about Baldor. He was perfect. Damn him for wanting a Little instead of me. Unreasonably, I chastised him for not being here for me when I needed him the most.
He’s not yours.
Needing to drown out the world, and most definitely my inner voice. I lay on the couch and pulled one of the fluffy blankets over my head. If I could just disappear, then everything would be okay. I stayed, hiding under my blanket, listening to the sounds of the night outside my room.
The voices of people laughing and talking, and the more subtle sounds of moaning and smacks calmed my nerves. Settling me until I felt brave enough to go to the bar and get my regular strawberry daiquiri.
I looked both ways when I reached the end of the hallway and took in the scenes around me, on the lookout for a single male who may be lurking in wait to nab me. When I was satisfied that no one was alone or seemed to be looking for me, I stepped out of the shadows and hustled to the bar for some liquid courage.
Astrid was no longer there but I recognized the bartender on shift, and the server, Imogen, I’d met last time was also working.
“Hey, stranger, where have you been hiding?”
“In the Middles’ room, where else,” I answered broodily.
She muttered something under her breath about a Daddy and a spanking, but I ignored it. I knew I could be bitchy when I was stressed out. That was my reactionary state, good old-fashioned bitchy-bluster. I liked to reason that as I was smaller than the average woman, I needed extra bitchiness to keep people from taking advantage of me.
That was yet another reason a Daddy was so important. I really needed someone in my life, someone who could cherish all of me and make my environment safe enough that I could just be me and not have to act a certain way for survival purposes. I thought about Astrid. Now there was a woman who didn’t need anyone and lucky her to be so damn tall and independent, a regal Domme if ever I’d seen one, but I wasn’t wired like Astrid, and once again my thoughts strayed to Baldor.
If only.
“Did you want a drink?”
“Huh? Oh, sorry. Uh, yes, please, a strawberry daqu—no scratch that, a paralyzer please.”
Imogen handed me my drink. Not watching where I was going, I turned too quickly, my thick Mary Jane heel not turning as fast as my body. I almost went down when a large hand reached out and steadied me.
“Oh, so sorry, I—Oh! It’s you.” My eyes widened in shock. Not willing or unable to confront Baldor, I took off with my drink toward the Middles’ room. Once again, I slammed the door and leaned against it. Why was I such an idiot? There was no way in hell I would get a second chance with Baldor now.
I sat back down on the couch, the same one he had me on only a week ago, and guzzled my drink. Hiding under my blanket, I succumbed to tears, feeling sorry for myself and wishing the couch could teleport me into a video game because at least there the monsters were recognizable.
