Page 14 of Lane's Lost Kitten

It felt so natural, like we’d been friends and lovers for years instead of barely knowing each other. For real, Elio was dangerous. It was official. Because I could so easily fall in love with him without even realizing it. Heck, I wasn’t so sure I hadn’t already started my descent.

When we were done for the day, I went to the mailbox on my way back to my apartment. Inside was a card from Chained. I couldn’t wait to open it up and tore open the envelope. Inside was a glittery cati-corn invitation to a craft day for littles at Chained.

I squeed, although the way Elio came running, I had a feeling it didn’t sound as much like a squee as it did me yelping in pain.

“Are you okay?”

“Sorry. Yeah, I’m just excited. Look what I got.” I handed him the invitation. “I told you about Chained, right?”

He nodded.

“This is a craft day they are having next month, and I’m invited.” Which was a clever marketing promo more than anything, but I’d take it.

“It looks like a lot of fun.” He held it out for me. “Cat-terine is cuter.”

Accurate.

“You can come with me if you want, but zero hurt feelings if you don’t. And if you do decide to go, that isn’t a commitment to always want to go.” Not in a million years did I want him to feel any pressure.

“I think I want to go.”

“Think on it.” I kissed the cleft on his chin. Gods, that thing was a work of art. “I don’t have to RSVP for a week.”

At week’s end, he was still holding firm that he wanted to go with me.

I didn’t want to get my hopes up, but, also, I couldn’t wait.

Chapter Twelve

Elio

When I agreed to go to Chained, I did it with the intent of having an open mind, but I had no idea what to expect. Once again, the internet was my friend. I could learn anything there from how to fix a windowsill to what kinds of activities I might find at a place like Chained. To my chagrin, there was not a lot about this club that I could locate, but there were a whole lot of clubs that invited people who had particular “kinks” to come.

I didn’t think of Lane as kinky. To me, that had a whole other feel rather than what I saw in him that night in his footie pajamas. No matter how he dressed or what we were doing, he just seemed like himself. Fun, silly, serious, adorable…those characteristics were present in him all the time. But would it be different at Chained?

Frankly, some of the pictures I saw were a little scary for me—a guy who I learned from a podcast would be called “vanilla” among those in the know. My favorite ice cream flavor…what did that say about me? But also, I wondered what kind of reception I’d get at the club. Would I be an embarrassment to Lane?

The craft day was being held in the afternoon. I didn’t know why I expected the club to be open only at night.

“It mostly is,” Lane said when I asked as we approached the building that housed the club. “Or at least most places are, but sometimes they have special events. I am new to Chained, but I understand they often have fundraisers for all kinds of charities as well. But it’s nice to have an afternoon party, especially for the littles and their caregivers. In my experience, not many places will do something like that.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Others often take precedence to us. Chained even has a special room just for us. I imagine that’s where we’ll have our craft day.”

I opened the door and held it for Lane to precede me inside.

“Welcome!” A woman wearing a frilly pink dress sat behind the desk in the foyer. “Are you here for the craft day?” She giggled. “You must be because nobody else is coming in until after nine. I’m Kerry. Names please?”

“Hi, Kerry.” Lane stepped forward, his backpack straps over one shoulder. “I’m Lane. I received an invitation and this is Elio, my guest. We called in his information, too.”

She canned a ledger on the desk in front of her. Although she was dressed and spoke like a little girl, she had a real efficiency about her that reminded me of a certain iconic cartoon girl. “I see you here.” Lifting her head, she gave a nod. “Daddy says my reading is getting very good. Please leave your phones here, and do you need help finding the changing rooms?”

“My phone?” I clutched the device in my jacket pocket, ready to protest.

“It’s policy,” Lane murmured. “People’s privacy is very important, and all phones are cameras. I can find the changing room, Kerry. I had a tour.”

“Oh, I see.” Not that I was that hooked on my phone in general, but I was pretty used to having it on me. “Let me silence the ringers so it doesn’t bother anyone.”

---