Page 34 of His Coveted Obsession

“Thank you so much, Superman.”

He set the tray over my lap and raised a brow. “Superman?”

“I… yeah. That just slipped, but I wanted to give you a pet name, and since you were my literal superhero the day we met… Is that stupid?”

“You want to give me a pet name? But I’m not a pet.”

I laughed and blew my nose again with the tissues, which were so much softer than the toilet paper. “I know, silly. Don’t your dads have pet names for each other?”

He thought about it for a moment and nodded. “Yes, Sid calls Dalton, ‘Boy Scout.’ Dalton used to work for the FBI.”

“Ilovethat. So much better than mine.”

He lifted my chin with a finger to look at him. “You can call me ‘Superman.’ Pet names mean you like me, right?”

I nodded. “More than like.” It was a hint of my growing feelings without saying the words.

He nodded, scooped out a spoonful of soup, and brought it to my lips. I blew on it and slurped it up, eating the chicken and vegetables. I bet it was delicious, too, but I couldn’t taste it.

Easton made me eat all my food, force-feeding me, until my gut felt like it was going to explode. Then he made me take some cold medicine, and I drank it down with a full glass of water.

“I feel better already, but I’m sleepy now.”

He removed the tray and set it aside. “Sleep now. Get your rest. The sooner you feel better, the sooner I can have you.”

“Can you stay with me?”

“I can’t. I’ve already missed too much work, and I have an assignment coming up.”

“Oh, okay.”

He leaned forward and kissed my forehead. “Is that an appropriate response?”

I giggled because he was so damn cute. Others may have found him awkward, but I found him totally endearing. “It’s one of the best kinds of kisses.”

He said nothing and stood. “I need to go.”

“Bye. And thank you for taking care of me.”

“You’re welcome.”

When Easton left, I curled into a ball, the meds kicking in, and passed right out.

Itwasdarkoutwhen I woke up to the smells of something Italian cooking. Thank god the meds worked, and I could smell again.

I climbed out of bed, hit the bathroom, and headed downstairs to find Dad and Annie in the kitchen eating spaghetti with meatballs.

I yawned and rubbed my eyes. “Hey.”

Dad beamed at me and stood to make me a plate. “Hey. Feeling better, Champ?”

“Yeah, a little.”

“Thank you for going grocery shopping and cleaning the kitchen while sick. You’re an amazing son, Tommy.”

Annie rolled her eyes and dug into her pasta. She trusted Dad less than I did.

“It wasn’t me.”

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