Page 13 of Colby's Lost Binky

In the end, we cooked breakfast together. I scrambled the eggs in a bowl, and he cooked them up in the pan, slow and low with lots of butter, just the way I liked it. It was the perfect breakfast, which I planned to follow up with an equally perfect afternoon. At least, I liked to think we would have, but he got a call from one of his colleagues at the hospital, and they wanted him in for a consult.

“I’ll drive you home,” he’d offered. But if the hospital needed him, and it sounded like they did, there was no reason I couldn’t take the bus home. It was in the opposite direction from where he was going, and it felt like the right thing to do.

So I kissed him goodbye, and he went on his way, and I went on mine with the promise that we’d talk soon. The bus came quickly, and I was home really quickly.

“You left your computer out,” Sarah said as I walked through the door. “So I plugged it in in the kitchen. It’s on the counter.” She barely looked up from her spot on the couch where she was folding even more laundry.

“Thanks.” I went to get it, not wanting it to be in the way.

I figured it was best if I just checked to see how some of my job applications were going. This round, there had been quite a few of what I would call perfect matches out there. I should have known better. I opened up the job tracking app and wanted to cry.

There were seven rejections. Seven. Was I going to be rejected by every business in the city that had anything related to my field? Gods, I hoped not.

It wasn’t that I was a snob or didn’t like working at the coffeehouse, but Barrister was a doctor. He didn’t need a deadbeat who slept on his sister’s couch. He deserved more. And right now, that wasn’t me. I wasn’t even close to “more.”

The question remained, was I enough? It was debatable, strong arguments on both sides. One thing was for sure. I’d be much closer to “enough” if I got a decent freaking job.

It was time to get that done already.

Chapter Ten

Barrister

Colby was the brightest spot in my life, and I looked forward to every text and call and moment we spent together. The sex was fantastic, but I’d never enjoyed anyone’s company more, in or out of bed. We hadn’t delved into the potential daddy/little aspect but had been getting to know one another on other levels.

The reservation for tonight’s dinner date had proven the old wisdom that a doctor could get a table where others could not, to be true. The newest restaurant in town was also a disco skating rink where 1950s cuisine was said to be as delicious as the activities were fun.

“Are you kidding me?” He took my hand and stepped out of the car as the valet waited to drive it away. “Nobody can get in here. The waitlist is supposedly months long. How did you do this?”

“You’re dating a doctor.” I handed over the keys and ushered Colby inside. “Now, we have about an hour before our table reservation. I hope one of us knows how to skate.”

“You don’t?” He gave me a look of such concern, I had to chuckle. “I don’t want you to break a leg or something.”

“I can skate.” In fact, I’d been really good at it once upon a time and was kind of looking forward to showing off. “You can too, right?” Since he’d mentioned the idea of coming here someday, I had assumed he could. If not, I’d committed a major goof.

“Oh yeah. I can do tricks.” He dragged me toward the skate rental counter, very easy to spot with its neon sign suspended overhead. “I hope the wheels are good. It’s hard to spin if they aren’t.”

Spin? One of us was about to show off, but suddenly I didn’t think it would be me. I was pretty proud of being able to go backward without falling on my butt—and considering how long it had been since I’d done that, well, I might be asking for bruises.

Luckily, I hadn’t bragged, and so I was able to take a figurative step back and let Colby show off his mad skating skills.

“I’ll have a pair of size elevens, no pads please,” he said to the middle-aged woman with the bright-red bouffant hairdo.

We might not have been into the daddy/little thing yet, but I already cared a lot about this man. Enough not to want him in my bed with his head glued together. “Colby, didn’t you say you were going to do tricks?”

“Yeah…” He flicked me a wary glance. “I want to show you what I can do.”

“Then I suggest pads and a helmet for your safety.”

The woman nodded approvingly but did not interfere.

“But I never use those.” His outthrust lower lip and stubborn set of his jaw gave me the clearest look at his little I’d seen since I handed him the blankie.

“Can you excuse us a moment?” There was a line building up behind us, and I wanted a private word with Colby before he took to the rink. Drawing him aside, I fixed him with a stern stare.

“What?”

“Is it sensible to go out there and do leaps and spins with no protection?”

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