Page 69 of Masks and Mishaps

I want to pace—and I’m halfway out of the bed when she captures my hand and pulls me back.

It’s a beat before she nods and says, “I did. I called you Daddy.”

I’ve been speechless so few times, and this moment is one for the ages. It’s not just the confession, but it’s the resolve in Essie’s expression—the sheer confidence behind her words.

You did,” I reiterate, breaking the silence. “Is that what you like? Is it…” I don’t even know what I’m trying to say. “Have you done this before? Like, was there another guy before me who was your…”

Once the words leave my mouth, I want to vomit.

“I’ve never done this before,” she replies, and I’m unbelievably uncool for breathing an audible sigh of relief. “And you said you hadn’t either.”

I shake my head.

And then Essie and I stare at each other, both of us unmoving before we speak at the same time:

“Should we—”

“Do you want to?”

A smile passes over Essie’s face, bashful but largely relieved. And a real smile from Essie has always been—and will always be—gut-wrenching.

It’s even worse when the smile fades.

“Sweetheart, wait. What’s wrong—”

“I don’t want to make this harder on you,” she admits, settling back against her pillow. “You said you want to continue our contract, but if I let you be my Daddy, is it going to give you more feelings to work through?”

Be my Daddy.Shit. Holy shit. She really just came out and said it.

I was game to try it before, but hearing her put those words in that precise order…I think I need this.

I needto give her this.

“You’ve never let anyone take care of you,” I mention, lowering my brow to a dead-serious level.

“Nobody has ever offered,” she replies, picking up on what I’m saying.

“So, let me,” I nearly whisper, holding her gaze when the words pass over my lips.Let me. Let me be the one. Let me give you what you want, what you need, what you deserve.

Essie is quiet. “I don’t want to hurt you,” she admits, speaking softly too.

“You won’t,” I lie. I know she’s going to destroy me one day.

I don’t fucking care.

“If this doesn’t work—” she begins.

“It will.” I nod—I give her the certainty she needs. “You’re going to let me take care of you.”

And an hour later, when she’s fast asleep and I still feel the tingle of her kiss, I lean down and kiss the spot right over her heart.

Then I make myself comfortable on the floor next to her bed.

Twenty-Six

ESSIE

“You’relate,”Daltonstateswhen he opens the door to his apartment.

---