Page 58 of Who's Your Daddy?

When I emerge ten minutes later, I find him sitting on the edge of the bed. It reminds me of that night in my motel room when I found him just like this, waiting for the results. While the tension is not the same, I pick up another similarity. Just like that night, he scans me up and down then sneers, shaking his head as if he disapproves of my...I don’t know. My hair? My pajamas? I’m not sure, but there’s something on me he doesn’t like.

“You good?” he asks.

I nod.

“Okay.” He stands up. “Uh...you know where everything is, so...just make yourself comfortable.” He doesn’t leave. He just sort of stands there, shifting on the balls of his feet. “I got you, um, rice...and those honey-barbeque potato chips you like so much.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” Another loaded pause ensues. “Well, um...” He reaches out to rub my arm in the awkward way he did when he came to my motel last week. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” When he still doesn’t leave, I look down at the hand stroking my arm. “This is honestly the most uncomfortable encounter I’ve ever experienced.”

His laughter breaks the tension, and he sheepishly removes his hand and tucks it into his pocket. “It’s so weird.”

“And not smooth at all. I expected more from you, Drac.”

“Iexpected more from me. I can’t even explain the level of disappointment I feel in myself right now.”

“Please ask Mr. Tate for your money back.”

He smiles, and after a moment of internal debate, he decides that a playful nudge will be the form of touching he uses this time. “It’s good to have you back home, Li.”

And just like that, I crumble. Those words trigger something in my brain and every pillar of strength inside me collapses. My reaction is automatic and happens without me even thinking. I throw my arms around his neck, hugging him tight. It takes a second or two for his shock to wear off and then his arms slip around my waist to pull me closer. He nuzzles his nose against the side of my neck and all the tension I’ve been feeling for the last few weeks leaves my body.

My shoulders relax, and I melt into him. He was right earlier when he said I needed him to be the rock last week because that’s what he’s always been. From the first day I met him, he’s had a way of allaying my worries and doubts. I find comfort in his demeanor because his steadiness keeps me steady. He’s so laid back and unfazed by the pressures of life. Nothing ever rattles him. When he freaked out, I freaked out even more because he tipped the scales in a way that made me feel out of control, like everything was falling apart around me.

But as his fingers lightly caress my lower back, everything slowly shifts back into equilibrium. I don’t know if I was craving some sense of stability or just him, but this is what I needed to set my mind at ease. The world doesn’t seem so scary. The situation doesn’t feel so overwhelming.

Ever since my parents died, I’ve been floating around aimlessly from pillar to post, searching for a place to take refuge, a place where I can feel like I belong. I lived in a fancy penthouse for fourteen months, and it never felt like this. I still felt lonely and empty all the time.

Peter is not promising me love or marriage or any of the things I thought I wanted. Instead, he’s giving me exactly what I need. A friend. A rock. A place of solace.

Right here in this house, in these arms, he gives me the one thing I’ve been searching for so desperately.

A home.

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