Page 48 of Born Daddy

Chapter Fourteen

Rogan couldn’t remember the last time he’d driven five miles below the speed limit. But somehow, putting off arriving back at Tate’s place and saying goodnight to him made driving like his grandma a given. Whatever was going on between him and Tate had taken hold and didn’t appear as if it would be letting go any time soon. Rogan had been rubbing his brow so much since they’d gotten into the truck, he wondered if he’d worn the skin clean away.

They should have a talk.

He glanced sideways at Tate, who seemed to be lost in his own thoughts as well. They hadn’t said much, and Rogan had turned Spotify on and chosen the alternative rock station he preferred at Tate’s insistence. Tate had then remarked that he enjoyed those songs too. Rogan had mused there was so much left to learn when it came to Tate.

Had Cam ever asked Tate’s opinions on important subjects? Or had he wondered what Tate’s favorite things were? From what little Rogan had gathered about the Daddy/boy lifestyle, Cam was supposed to have taken care of Tate’s every need. But what did that mean exactly?

Despite his intense curiosity and his natural investigative skills, he’d stopped short of diving down the Google rabbit hole. Not because he didn’t want to know every damn thing there was about the lifestyle because of Tate, but so he wouldn’t end up drowning in misleading information. Ideally, he would come to understand what a good Daddy was through getting to know Tate better.

He cleared his throat and went back to wearing away his skin. Asking himself why he’d need to be informed of the intricacies of proper Daddy behavior was a joke. He knew why. He knew why all too well and it scared the shit out of him.

Still, it wasn’t fair to Tate. This couldn’t be about himself and awakened desires and interests. Whatever it was he was feeling wasn’t based on Tate’s needs. As of that moment, Rogan was lost in the thrill of wanting to take care of and protect Tate. To comfort him, be there to fulfill his every wish.

But wanting wasn’t enough. Providing was what would do the job. And if Tate wasn’t interested in Rogan filling that role, and while Rogan was still in the questioning phase of whether he could actually be a Daddy, he needed to back off.

He glanced at Tate again. If ever he were to consider changing his viewpoint on relationship roles, Tate would be his inspiration to try. Rogan chuckled to himself. Relationship? Right. The last time he’d had what might qualify as a relationship he’d been on the other side of thirty. Not forty-five with nothing but hook ups and one-offs for almost two decades. What the fuck did he know about any kind of relationship?

Rogan gave his forehead a break and he tapped on the steering wheel instead. The attraction between them was palpable, the connection real. But Rogan still wasn’t convinced that he wouldn’t be taking advantage of a vulnerable young man.

He sighed. After all these years, he was finally interested in finding someone and was in the position to make a commitment. The sad irony was that the only person who sparked that interest would probably be better off without the emotional confusion a new relationship would bring.

Yeah. A talk. Definitely needed.

“Have you eaten yet?”

Tate turned to him, almost as if Rogan’s words had startled him.

“No, I haven’t.” Rogan noted Tate was wringing his hands. “Have you?”

Rogan glanced at Tate again, then quickly faced forward. He knew longing when he saw it. Tate’s beautiful wide eyes, his plump, kissable lips that were parted a fraction and the way he’d leaned in Rogan’s direction in a barely perceptible move—everything in Tate’s body language told Rogan that all he needed to do is ask, and Tate would be his.

Which is why I can’t ask.

“I haven’t.” Rogan smiled, hoping to ease some of the awkwardness that had settled between them. “I was going to suggest we go to my place and order a pizza, maybe watch a movie. Try to get our minds off everything that just happened.”

A movie might be chickening out on a heavy discussion, but he was operating in the dark. He’d kind of fake-daddied it back at the station without realizing what he was doing. One minute he’d been yelling at Agent Phillips, the next he’d been clutching Tate’s hand and trying to soothe him. Guidance would surely be needed if Tate wanted him to keep behaving that way.

“Okay.”

“Yeah?”

Tate smiled. “Sure. I’d love to.”

Rogan’s belly tightened and he swallowed hard. Tate’s response had been more enthusiastic than he expected.

“So, this place I always order from is a family joint that’s been around since the forties. Amazing pizza and calzones, the genuine article. Everything’s fresh.” Rogan grinned, some of his anxiety lifting. This was all regular stuff. Nothing outside his field of expertise. “I know you eat healthier stuff, so I thought you might like it.”

“It sounds awesome.”

Rogan chuckled. “It might not sound like it, but I tend toward eating healthy. Pizza and beer are my two weaknesses, however. But when I indulge, I make sure to hit the gym and work it off after.”

“I can tell.”

Rogan’s eyebrows shot up as he caught Tate in his peripheral vision lowering his head as if embarrassed. He imagined that if it were daytime, Tate would be sporting a blush. Rogan shifted around in his seat as his dick twitched at the visual. He’d caught a couple of Tate’s blushes already and they were so damn cute.

Once they arrived at Rogan’s place, he was back to wondering if he was in over his head. Yet, it was time to face the reality of what was happening between them. Delaying the conversation that would someday have to be had anyway wasn’t helping either of them.

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