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I never had a dad, and I definitely don’t know how to be one. I willneverbe one.
“You should probably be on your way,” I say, nodding toward the exit. “And I have an appointment I can’t miss.”
Colin agrees, grabbing onto the boy’s hand.
“Thanks again and maybe we’ll run into each other sometime, Lex.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
I’m walking away when Colin stops me. “Hey, actually, would you like to exchange numbers? You know, just in case something happens with your grandma or mine.”
I let my eyes run over him. “Oh, you’re a sly fox, Colin.”
He smiles at me, looking much too innocent, and I roll my eyes. “Fine.”
I don’t correct him that Brenda, Martha, and Vikki aren’t technically my grandmas. For all intents and purposes, they are. They’re mine.
I pull out my phone and when we’re done swapping numbers, I stroll outside, waving goodbye to Ben who sits behind the check-in counter. His face flushes red when our eyes meet.
I think he has an itty-bitty crush on me. I probably flirted a little too hard with that one when I first showed up six months ago. And, you know, every day since. I can’t help it. I’m just a flirtatious guy. The problem is, Ben does nothing for me.
Not that it would stop me. I’d still fuck him. I think he’d let me, too. He’s probably a nice, obedient bottom. But I meant it when I said I wanted rude. I want angst. I want longing. I want an up-against-the-wall, clothes still on because I’m that desperate for it kind of fuck.
God, it’s been a while since sex has made me pant and whine. I want to feel like an animal begging for it. Feral and raw.
Is that too much to ask?
I step out of the facility and the summer heat is almost unbearable as I jog to my car. My pale skin can’t handle the rays. I turn as pink as cotton candy if I stand outside too long. Not that there’s anything wrong with cotton candy.
I love that shit. Love how it just disappears as soon as it hits my tongue. It’s magic.
I pull out my phone and glance at it.
“Fuck,” I mutter. I’m going to be late for this job. I’m heading to an office to do some very basic IT stuff that I get paid a shit-ton for.
A wave of panic crashes through me and I start to sweat. But then I gain control, tamp it down, and slow my stride.
They can wait. The man who had called it in was an ass on the phone anyways, demanding this and that. It was a last-minute urgent call that I’d only taken because I’m a nice person.
I’m only rude when it’s warranted.
Which happens to be quite often. People are quite awful, really. I learned that lesson early on.
So, yeah, Mr. Walker can wait while I drive my ass across town. Maybe I’ll even stop and grab a few snacks. And by a few, I mean I want a fucking mini-mart in my car. I want all the sugary goodness I can buy.
And he’ll wait.
Because I’m the best at what I do and he knows it.
CHAPTERTWO
LEX
“You’re late,” a short, stout man reprimands, a frown on his face. He has sweat beading up on that bald little, round head of his. I have this irrational urge to pluck it right off his shoulders and send it shooting down a bowling lane.
I’m not that late. Only an hour. I spent a lot of time perusing the snack aisle at the gas station. I have a bag full of treats to consume later, and after meeting this fella, I’m glad I didn’t rush.
“Why hello to you too,” I say with a wide, intense smile. I give a short, mocking bow. “Lex, at your service.”
