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Over the last year, I must admit, carrying my weight has grown tough. It hasn’t for most of my adult life, and whenever I felt a smidge of back pain, I blew it off by purchasing a new pair of shoes.
Something that I read online told me that it wasn’t actually my weight that made me feel pain. It was my stress level—the more stressed out from dealing with banks, private lenders, and the housing authority that I was, the more jabs of pain I’d feel.
I didn’t believe this at first. I was convinced that my body was hurting me, and that I needed to change my diet. I'd have to give up my steaks and nightly slice of apple pie á la mode.
No such bad luck.
One night with BJ lets me know that my stress was in fact that which caused me pain. Not my body, not my voluptuous belly. Not my rolls and folds that I like massaging with baby oil after a long day of work. I prefer flower-scented oil.
With BJ in my life, my back no longer aches. I’m as light as a feather. I could laugh, giggle, and skip down the street while twirling a purse like a schoolgirl. I could wear a tutu and pirouette like a ballerina. That’s the power of BJ’s affection for me.
BJ shakes his head in wonderment. "I like when you stare. It makes me feel desired. In a way that I never have felt in my life."
"You’re in luck." Turning BJ’s head up, I gaze into his eyes. "I have a hard time keeping my eyes off you. I’ll have an even harder time once we visit our special job site."
For then, I’ll be smitten with you, my hug bug. Utterly and totally smitten, unable to do anything other than be your Daddy. You’ve healed parts of me I didn’t even realize were broken, and my nights will never grow lonely with you.
I’m your protector, precious BJ. Your man. Your Daddy. Fear not around me for I shall vanquish any fears that trouble you. If a fire-breathing dragon comes to rip you away from the castle of my embrace in the wee hours of the morning, it I shall slay with my bare fists. You're safe with me.
These kind words, I cannot say out loud. They sound too much like the knights at RenFest that I spar with every year.
Two pairs of feet rush toward us. "There you are, BJ!"
"We heard you were in the cuddle room." Calloway winks at BJ. "I asked my Daddy if we could go snuggle, but he said it was occupied."
Waxley taps his foot on the ground. "That’s not what Greyson said."
"Is, too."
"Is not."
"I’d remember what my Daddy told me, Waxley."
"Greyson said that BJ was busy having magic time. He didn’t use the word 'occupied.'"
Calloway rolls his eyes. "That pretty much means the same thing."
BJ leaps toward his two friends and hugs them both. "I did it."
Calloway and Waxley squeeze BJ tight. "We’re so proud of you."
Tears flow out of BJ’s eyes. "Bryce wants to be my Daddy, guys. It’s hard to comprehend. I thought he would never make a move—some small part of me feared that tonight wouldn’t lead to anything more than the last few months have led to. I was wrong. So joyfully wrong. He’s my Daddy and he’s going to take me to a job site. We’ll sit on diggers together."
Waxley pats BJ’s head. "Now will you quit putting our steamships on your dump truck?"
BJ rears back like an irate horse. "First, I put my dump truck on your steamship. Get it right. Second, no."
Calloway pinches the bridge of his nose. "This freaking guy."
"Let’s all sing the Bob the Builder theme song to celebrate BJ and Bryce’s new love," Waxley chants.
Calloway shoots Waxley a death glare. "I don't want to bash you over the head with a steamship, but I will if you make me."
BJ perks up. "I love that song. Bob the builder, can he—"
I pat my boy’s head. "Now, now, BJ. Your friends will grow cross with you if you bless them with your musical talent right now. How about you whisper the words in Daddy’s ear instead? That way, you still get to sing and Daddy doesn’t have to share your pretty voice with anyone. He’ll keep it locked in the treasure chest of his heart where it belongs."
BJ presses his lips to my ear all shy and quiet-like. He whispers the words, and when he’s done, he kisses my cheek.
