Page 37 of Daddy's Muse
“You overthink,” he said, not unkindly. “Why?”
I ducked my head, hiding a small, embarrassed laugh. “Well… like I said the other night, I’m just… I think it’d be a lot of work to date me, and you deserve better than that.”
The corner of his mouth tugged downward. “Ah, yes,high-maintenanceis what you said.” He rolled the word in his mouth like it was an annoyance he wished to be rid of.
“I mean, I like attention,” I said quickly, “and… I like feeling taken care of. I want…” I trailed off, suddenly wishing I could sink into the upholstery.
He placed the palm of his hand on the side of my head, pushing my face into his chest. I let out a low gasp and went still, suddenly inhaling more of his scent than oxygen. I bit my cheek to suppress the needy whine that threatened to come out of my chest.
He just watched me for a beat, his gaze dark and steady, before speaking in that same low tone that made my stomach flip. “I know what you need.”
Something about the way he said it wasn’t casual. It wasn’t a guess. It was like he’d already decided, and I wasn’t sure whether that should scare me or make me lean in closer.
I tried to laugh it off, but it came out softer and smaller, like I was afraid of breaking the moment. “You say that like you’ve got me all figured out already.”
“Not already,” he said, sitting back in the booth but still holding my eyes. “I’ve known for a while now.”
That sent a strange warmth through me, curling low in my chest. “Known what?”
“The way you want to hand over the reins without having to admit it out loud. The way you need someone to be soft with you, and the way you want to rely on that someone.”
My pulse kicked hard in my ears. I should’ve told him he was reading too much into things, that he was wrong—but every word felt like it was peeling back a layer I kept hidden from everyone else.
“That’s…” I swallowed.
“It’s you.” His voice was low, warm, and certain. “And I like you exactly as you are. You don’t have to hide that from me. You and I were made perfectly for each other.”
I sat there, eyes closed, as my heart tried to beat right out of my chest.
My throat tightened, not with fear this time, but with the dangerous realization that maybe, just maybe, I could have him.
Still, I wanted to comment on how strange it was for him to make grand declarations so early on. It was a little… intense. A little bit of a red flag, to be honest. But apparently, my heart loved that color.
As he left me to order at the counter, I kept telling myself not to read into his words. But it was useless, because after he returned with our food, every look, every slow smile from him, every caress of my side, felt like it was feeding something inside me I’d been starving for.
While walking out of the cafe afterwards, I asked him how much my cinnamon roll and latte were, wanting to pay him back for his kindness.
“Colby.” He said my name like it meant something. “You can assume, from now on, that I’m taking care of you.”
Those words—taking care—landed heavier than they should have. I couldn’t help the flicker of an image in my head: meleaning against him, safe and small on his lap, with him making all the decisions so I didn’t have to. It startled me so much that I looked away, mumbling a thanks and clenching my thighs together from the sudden throb of heat down there.
We walked side by side toward my dorm, hand in hand again. When we reached the entrance, I fumbled for something to say, not ready to go upstairs yet.
He reached out and straightened the collar of my jacket, his fingers lingering for a second longer than necessary on my nape. “You really do need someone to look after you,” he murmured.
My pulse jumped, and I sucked in a breath. “I-I know that’s a lot to ask. And… and you don’t even know the full extent of it…”
“It’s not.” His gaze was steady, unreadable, but warm. “It just means you need the right person.”
I swallowed hard. “And you think that’s you..?”
The corner of his mouth tugged up, almost a smirk but softer. “I don’t think. I know.”
I stood there, breath caught somewhere in my throat, as he gave my shoulder one last squeeze before turning to leave. He didn’t look back—but he didn’t need to.
Because he already knew I’d be waiting for him.
“Wait!” I called after him, a thought racing into my head.
