Page 17 of Little Bedtime Snack

I watched as he slathered on thick stripes of the glittery paint. If I were to guess, we’d be adding glitter to that in the near future. He did like things sparkly.

The chair beside me was pulled out, and when I glanced over, it was another Little boy with a piece of paper in his hand.

“Draw me one?”

And that was the second I knew that Eli and I didn’t need to call each other boyfriends. Me calling him my sweet boy, and him calling me Daddy, showed our commitment. We’d still be talking about it, because communication was what would keep us going long-term.

But his response to that Little would forever fill my heart.

“He’s my Daddy. You can find somebody else to do your drawing.”

The Little boy apologized and went to find someone else to play with.

I reached off the table, grabbing Eli’s hand. “Little possessive of your Daddy?”

He froze, met my eyes, and must’ve liked what he saw because he shrugged with a smirk. “I know what’s mine.”

And back to his painting he went.

It was true.

I was his.

Completely.

13

ELI

When Mason told me he had to go away for work, I didn’t love the idea. What boy would? We’d been spending time together nearly every day. We often shared a meal or went for a walk, but sometimes we simply occupied the same space. And on the good days, we spent the night at each other’s houses.

But now, not only was he going to be a thousand miles away, but he was going to be working for most of it. And thanks to time zones, we weren’t even going to be able to video chat as much as I wanted. It was going to suck.

I missed him before he even left, but I tried to be brave and not show it. It wasn’t like he was going on vacation without me. He didn’t need to be worried about me when he was trying to close a deal, or whatever it was. I didn’t fully understand his job still, but I was trying.

Being the sweet Daddy that he was, he invited me to go with him. He offered me a flight, a fancy suite for us to share, and even a rental car so I could go out exploring while he was in meetings. I wanted to accept so badly.

The problem was, it was a busy time at work, and no one was getting approved for PTO. Unless they were actively dying in the hospital, sick days were being refused. I wasn’t sure how they could legally do that, but they did it anyway. If you could stand, you came to work. There were only a few times a year when this was the case, and of course, it had to line up with his trip.

So, I stayed behind.

The first day he was gone, I beyond missed him. And because he was traveling and dealing with opening-night meetings, checking in, and networking, I was barely able to text him, much less have a full conversation. I tossed and turned all night, unable to get any real sleep.

When I woke up in the morning, he had sent me a video message wishing me a great day, and I felt better. Well, better-ish

Off to the toll booth I went for another long day.

At least the day was busy, which worked for distracting me. One person after another came through, and all of them seemingly with issues with payment or directions or the fact that toll booths existed. It was always interesting to see the types that passed through and that was exceptionally true on weeks like this. There was a big music festival up north, and my plaza was one of the main travel routes, keeping me busy as well as slightly entertained.

But then I got home, and once again, the loss of Daddy was there.

It was ridiculous. I was a grown-ass man. I didn’t need someone by my side 24/7.

Except, I sort of did.

The next night, when we talked, I did the one thing I swore I wouldn’t do—I told him exactly how I was feeling.

“You look tired, sweet boy.” Probably because I had bags under my eyes the size of a monster truck tire.

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