Page 16 of Big Daddy

Initially, she did not want to go. She thought she was too good, and so did Big Daddy. I heard secondhand all of the things he said about Crave, and exactly how he felt.

Knowing how he felt about that, I’m starting to wonder if he didn’t want me taking foot photos out of disgust. I mean, he was really upset about Brielle being assigned to Crave.

I nod and smile as Brielle talks about her boss Augustus and his assistant Lance. The three of them bicker, but from what I understand, they have an emotional and romantic connection, too. Small, but it’s there, growing. I fix the smile on my face and work hard to hold it, timing sips of my latte to break up the forced facial expression. On the inside, I’m foolishly crumpled, fighting the urge to cry. Why? Because my best friend is telling me about her bosses and potential lovers? No, because I’m thinking of Big Daddy and his motives.

For a split second, or maybe even a short period of time, I thought that just maybe Big Daddy paid me off and told me not to take the photos anymore because he had a little crush on me.

Which would be stupid anyway because he’s my best friend’s dad. He's old, and he’s already been married and had a kid. At this point in his life, his hobbies are probably wearing an ascot by a fireplace while reading a newspaper or some shit. It was a total fantasy to think Big Daddy had a crush on me.

But I can’t deny the internal crumble at the realization that Big Daddy hates anything related to porn, and wants zero association with it. I may not go back toFeetFans, but I support those who use it. And porn? I support that too.

Having me quitFeetFanswasn’t romantic. It had everything to do with how he feels about himself, and nothing to do with how he feels about me.

Of course. I mean, duh.

Still, my gut rots as I listen to Brielle tell me about a dirty video she stumbled upon where her boss had his assistant on his knees for him.

When she’s done sharing her story, my muffin and latte are done, too.

As casually as I can, I prod a little, because I’ve had ten minutes to sit with my thoughts, and ten minutes to decide I don’t care if Big Daddy doesn’t like me. It was stupid anyway. I would never want to hurt Brielle. And my interest in him is purely physical. A good fuck with a hot older man isn’t worth my relationship with my bestie anyway.

But still, a girl is curious.

“So, what did your dad want?” I ask, pressing my fingertip into crumbs, dropping them over my plate casually.

“Oh,” she sighs, popping her back as she twists in her seat. “Just to make sure I’m using the groceries he buys me to makehealthy meals. He said there was a lot of take out in my fridge and I need to watch that.”

I roll my eyes, and don’t have to force it. “I can’t believe he just comes into your apartment while you’re gone.”

She gives me dead eyes. “Really? You can’t? I mean, you know how my dad is.”

I tug on my messy hair at the top of my head, playing it all too cool as I ask, “Do you kind of like it? I mean, I know he bugs you but I don’t know. Knowing he’s up your butt all the time because he loves you, that has to feel good sometimes, right?”

Her features soften, and her hands slide over the table to capture mine when I’m done fidgeting with my bun. “I’m sorry, I think sometimes I take for granted just how adjusted and cool you are and that’s insensitive of me.” She purses her lips in one of those gross, sad smiles meant to tell me she feels bad. “I love my dad. And I’m sorry your parents aren’t around anymore. I’m sorry I’m insensitive to that.”

Oh god. I wasn’t thinking that at all. But of course, that’s where her mind went since my parents are, in fact, dead. Shit, what was I hoping she’d say after a loaded comment like that? All I wanted to know is if Big Daddy actually has a heart, but apparently, I love pain because now I’m forced to act like she hit me straight in the feels. It’s that or admit I’m asking about her dad, which I have zero logical reason to do.

“Yeah,” I sigh, tipping my head to the side as I debate snagging a second muffin on my way out. Because I have the money, after all. “It’s okay, you’re not insensitive,” I say, finding the courage (insert eyeroll here) to smile. “You’re just kind of an asshole, just like Big Daddy.”

That’s the first time I’ve used that nickname since our relationship has changed, and as soon as the name leaves my lips, the big hand of guilt bitch slaps me.

Fortunately, Brielle is on her way out, and too busy to do much but roll her eyes. “Yuck,” she says, shoving her laptop into her bag. “Wanna do dinner tonight? We haven’t caught up in a while.”

I nod to the empty plates and crumbs. “I just listened to you talk about your hot boss getting blown by his assistant and how they’ve been eyeing your tits for the last week.” I shrug. “We’re caught up.”

She puts her hands on her hips, glaring. “Do you not want to meet up with me tonight? Do you have plans?”

I snort. “Yeah, I have plans to work on my final project in bed with my headphones on to drown out the eight trillion other people that live at my place.” I make jazz hands. “Huge night for me.”

“When is your final project due?” she asks, stashing some napkins in the front pocket of her bag.

“Not for another two months but… that’s all I have left. There’s literally not even class anymore. Just to work on my thesis project.”

“I guess now it’s a good thing you don’t have a boyfriend. You have nothing but time and focus.” She pulls me into another hug before saying goodbye, and filtering out the door. I sink into the coffee house seat and sigh, letting my head fall back against the chair.

At that moment, my phone pings a very familiar noise.FeetFans. I open the app to find a message from Howard waiting.

Howard

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