He’d never thought it was odd at the time, but it had become clear later that Clare and he had different biological fathers, which is why he supposed the kids had been split initially. To his dad’s credit, he didn’t hesitate to accept Clare, and Gabriel finally came into his own as a protector. He grinned. Clare just called him bossy.

Which, he supposed, had contributed to him becoming a dominant in a lot of ways, except since his dad’s death he wasn’t getting the same satisfaction as he used to. Which was ridiculous, as technically, he had more time.

His phone dinged with a notification and he practically lunged for it. Seeing it was from Rowan allowed him to release the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

“Hope this is ok. You said to text.”

“Good boy for letting me know.”

Gabriel stared in horror at the text he had sent without thinking. Good Boy? Good fucking Boy? He was tempted to throw the phone again, but this time neither it nor his table would survive. Rowan wasn’t a boy. He was a little. And Gabriel had no business calling him anything but his name. Good Boy in the club setting was more intimate. He only used it as a way of showing praise or pleasure.

Gabriel sternly told himself to calm down. He’d never done a scene with Rowan, obviously, so the boy wouldn’t know he reserved that phrase for anything other than a special greeting. He glanced down at his phone again and saw the dots indicating Rowan was replying.

He smiled as it seemed to take some time, but eventually he got a response.

“Thank you for taking me home. It was very kind of you.”

Gabriel stared at the phone. That was polite. Careful. Distant. Rowan was shy, but he never hid. Every emotion he felt was plain to see. He leaned back and thought about the looks he’d seen on Rowan’s very expressive face. Pain, certainly. It was unconscionable in their club—a supposedly safe space—that there would be bullies, but Gabriel had witnessed and rescued Rowan from just that situation a few months ago with that little shit, Matthew. Then tonight. The hurt and shame from Rowan had been palpable.

He understood how it had happened now that he’d had a chance to calm down, but he tried to remember if he’d ever seen Rowan happy?

He'd seemed content in the little room with his friends, but Gabriel suddenly envisioned what Rowan would look like not just content but blissed out. His pale skin would be rosy. Maybe with little beads of sweat resting above his plump upper lip. His huge, pretty eyes, surrounded by those thick, gorgeous lashes, would be blown wide.

Then Gabriel’s imagination turned to how he would get him to look that way. Rowan seemed made to please. He needed precise instruction, but any small word of praise would light him up. He would be so responsive to the lightest touch. Gabriel could imagine teasing responses from him. Rowan didn’t need pain or punishment because he would never put a foot wrong.

Gabriel tried to imagine him in bed. He would have pajamas. He wouldn’t dream of sleeping naked, too shy.

“Are you in bed? Do you have your pajamas on?”

What the actual fuck? What was he doing? Gabriel shuffled and pulled his leather pants away from his crotch to give himself a little room. Hell, he stood and stripped. His chest was too tight anyway.

He watched the little dots on the screen greedily.

“Yes.”

“Yes? What the fuck was that? He needed details. What could he ask without crossing a line?

“Bet you have a favorite pair.”

Rowan was a little. Talking about a favorite pair of pajamas was a thing, right? He wasn’t crossing a line. He just wanted Rowan to feel he could talk to Gabriel about regular “little” things. Like friends did. They had stuffies. Did they talk about their favorite bear? Was that verging on creeper territory?

“I have my Nemo ones on.”

Fuck. Gabriel just about melted. Except his cock. His cock was rock hard. It must be because he had been at the club but hadn’t played and definitely hadn’t gotten off.

And then he wondered if Rowan had ever gotten off. Probably by his own hand, but what about someone else’s? Not that he could ask that, or even help with it. That would be going too far. He’d seen the longing in Rowan’s eyes. Knew that because of him watching out for Rowan, he probably had a bit of a crush that it wasn’t fair to encourage.

“Thinking of getting my own place.”

Gabriel stared at the screen and his fingers were moving before he knew it.

“That’s great. An apartment? It would need to be near college for you.” Gabriel huffed silently. Full words. He’d replied in the same way Rowan had, not an abbreviation in sight.

He smiled as the dots appeared, wishing he dared ask Rowan to FaceTime him. He’d like to see his face.

“Yes. Father will help me look, but I don’t know where to start.”

“Do you have a realtor?”