Page 4 of Their Little House Colter
The door clicked shut, and I got up and walked over to Monroe. “What did you think?” I asked, bouncing on my toes. The others chuckled.
Monroe lifted one eyebrow and tilted his head. “I like him. Didn’t you?”
“I did. I really liked him. And I think he will be a great fit. He was respectful and lovely.” Okay, that last word popped out all on its own.
“Lovely, huh?”
I shrugged, trying to play it off and completely failing. “Sure.”
“Dallas, you do know that Colter is a little, right? And you’re a little.”
Oh, now he was being a smart-ass. “Yes. I know. But…”
“But what?” Monroe asked.
“But he’s sweet and nice and smart. He’s a hard worker and respectful.”
“You said that already.”
I crossed my arms over my chest, feeling like a petulant brat. “Are you going to ask him to move in? It’s your decision. You’re the owner.”
He shook his head, laughing at me. “I am. I have to see the other people that come in just to be fair, but I think he’s a good fit.”
I almost jumped out of my skin. “Oh, good.”
“Dallas, he’s a little,” Monroe said.
“We already discussed that. Still…did you see his ass in those jeans?”
Monroe clapped me on the shoulder. “Everyone saw his ass in those jeans.”
Chapter Four
Colter
This was a week of firsts. So many firsts.
It all started at Chained when I saw a sexy daddy, and for the first time, I thought maybe I should approach him. That was so not like me to have one night with a daddy. So not like me that I didn’t even know how to approach the man, and he left before I worked up the nerve. Probably good because I realized very quickly that one night wouldn’t be enough. I was setting myself up for hurt, so I went back to playing.
But if that was true, why couldn’t I forget about him? That night, I pushed it aside, assuming I only thought about trying it because my day had sucked and my bestie had already found a daddy for the night. But if that were the case, he’d have been long forgotten instead of infiltrating my thoughts nonstop.
The second first was going to check out the new room in the little house. I’d never looked at a place specifically because I liked the social aspect. And if the listing had been a random homeowner looking to fill rooms, I’d never have given it a second’s thought. It wasn’t an apartment—there were lots of shared living spaces—and that was usually a nonstarter for me. But add in a playroom and people who like the same things I did, and I was willing to give it a shot.
The house was really nice. Much nicer than I thought it would be. I had a sort of frat-boy type image of what a house filled with men sharing public spaces would look like. How wrong I’d been. It was neat and tidy, welcoming, and, best of all, everybody was kind.
I mean, sure, they had to be. No one decides to be an asshole on interview day. But they had a really good vibe, and I could see myself being happy there.
And that’s where another first came in. I found myself attracted to a little, which was probably not good. By nature, we both wanted the same thing in a relationship, and it wasn’t another little. That didn’t make him easier to ignore.
Dallas had been sitting there, pretending not to notice me. I envisioned him being a tad mischievous when he played, which went against the other vibes he gave off. He didn’t present himself as in-your-face kind of little, who played loud and hard, partly for the attention. If anything, I could see him at Chained, living for the story times.
He’d probably turn out to be a great playmate and roommate. But still, part of me wondered for a split second if maybe we could be more. Fine, longer than that because, gods, his ass was magnificent. And that smile could light up a room brighter than my light-up sneakers.
Either I was really obvious about my attraction, or Monroe was great with people, because on my way out, he said, “Try to remember that Dallas is little too.”
I wanted to argue with him, but that was a horrific idea, given why I was there. I really wanted this place. I wanted to be able to be friends with my roommates, to have something in common, to be able to share a part of myself I didn’t get to with most people.
And the rent? Oh, the rent was great. In so many ways, it was the perfect place.
