Page 16 of Their Little House Tristan
I stuck around for a little longer, but the littles I was looking for weren’t there and as soon as Mark and Buddy were engrossed in a glitter project —Sorry, Daddy Mark—I made my exit. But I decided I would attend A Little Fun and hope for the best. If they were there, great, but if not, it was a rescue I sent money to every month, and it would be fun to help support them even more.
Chapter Eleven
Bellamy
“Look what I have.” I turned to see Tristan standing in my doorway, an envelope in hand.
“Bills? Do you have bills?” I teased. “Because, if so, I really don’t want any more.”
He rolled his eyes dramatically, which I 100percent deserved. “Does this face look like these are bills?”
I squinted at him, as if I were trying really hard to see it.
“No,” he admitted, “I suppose not.”
I stuck out my tongue.
“I was just messing with you. What I’ve got isn’t good, it’s great.” He handed me the envelope, bouncing with excitement I matched when I looked inside to find two invitations, aka tickets, to A Little Fun.
“Wait… Chained? Their little event everyone is talking about? Isn’t it tonight. I thought this was sold out.” It was a caregiver/little event at Chained where the proceeds went to a local rescue called City GoldenDoodles. The tickets had to have cost a fortune.
“They are,” he said with a smirk. “But I have an in with the management.”
“Let me pay for them.” We usually went even-steven on all date-like activities, but this was different. The night was outside of his price range, especially with him needing the money he made for school.
“Anin. Meaning, I got them for free.”
“I guess if you’ve got an in, I’ll let you pay.” I stuck out my tongue. “And we have to go. It would be rude not to.”
As if there was a way to keep me from attending, especially since James might be there.
“Let’s be matchy.” I couldn’t think of anything more irresistible than two matching littles.
“Matchy for the win.” A giggle erupted from him.
“Exactly!” He spun around and darted to my stash of little clothes, pulling out half a wardrobe and tossing pieces across the bed. “What do you have that matches any of this?”
He came here with very little; his sudden move from college to his shitty parents meant most of, if not all of his little belongings had been lost forever.
He glanced at the pile. “I have nothing. We can just be cute, no need to match today.” The disappointment in his voice nearly broke me. Twinsies had been a fun idea, but now it was mandatory.
“Let’s go. We need to get something new for the occasion. The dogs are counting on us,” I said.
“You just want to get dressed up because you think the hot daddy might be there.”
“Or maybe”—I winked—“I want to get dressed up for my hot little.”
Either way—we were going. I was now determined that we were going to be the cutest littles in attendance.
There was only one place in town where I knew we could find club-worthy little gear, and it wasn’t a hard decision what to get once we got there. Front and center were two onesies. The first had a little bunny that saidI’m the cute one, and the other had a puppy that readNo, I’m the cute one.
There was no choice to be made—we had to get them.
I grabbed a pair of shorts that matched the puppy to go with my bunny onesie, and he got the shorts that matched the bunny to go with his puppy onesie. We were going to coordinate epically. No one there wouldn’t know we were together.
We added knee-high socks—mine covered in glittery hearts, his with tiny carrots. Did they match? Not even remotely. Did we care? Absolutely not.
We looked like a million sparkly, pastel-colored dollars.
