A Daddy for Christmas: Ever, page 4
It was a fairly large teddy, big enough to hug and still show Ever’s arms outstretched. After a few seconds, Ever held the bear away from his chest. He lifted one of its paws and brushed it against his cheek.
My breathing sped up. The beauty of that gesture went straight to my core. My blood ran hot in my veins.
In this moment, Ever was a boy. Maybe even a little. I couldn’t be sure if it was his true personality beneath the careful manners and shyness, but the way he handled the toy bear seemed to transform him into the very type of guy my fantasies had been playing with for weeks.
I watched him fiddle with the price tag in the bear’s ear. His chest rose and fell. His entire body drooped. Reluctantly, he shook his head and put the bear back on the shelf. With shuffling feet, he pushed his cart the opposite direction from where I stood, rounded the display and vanished from sight.
I pulled my cart around to the aisle behind me and moved to the bear he’d been holding. I noticed it was super cute and soft, and very large. Any boy would be happy to have it. Even maybe a young man. Ever had a teddy bear in his bed. That was a fact. I’d moved it to the side of his head when I’d put him to bed. This couldn’t be a coincidence. Common sense easily told me Ever liked bears. Stuffed ones. Toy ones. Large ones that were soft and cuddly and didn’t have any moving parts but were like pillows you could hold onto all night long.
I checked the price. It was not cheap, and probably out of his budget if he had only been working his job for a year. That was why he’d put it back on the shelf. But it wasn’t out of my budget.
I moved the big box of blocks to the underside of my cart and dropped the bear in the main basket. Then I found another bear that sang carols for my older nephew. I then went to the wrapping section and found two Christmas boxes just the right size for both plush bears.
Once I was done toy shopping, I went to the nearest cashier, hoping I wouldn’t see Ever hovering about any other aisle. I needed to get these in my car and come back with a clear cart for my groceries.
I hurried out to the car, all the while thinking how stupid it seemed that I’d bought the bear that Ever liked, as well as a box to put it in. What if I never saw him again? It was quite obvious by now that he didn’t want to see me. When in all the worlds did I think I’d give it to him?
I couldn’t stop myself. When I put the toys into the backseat of my car, I stared at the bear I’d bought for Ever, breathlessly remembering again how he’d made its paw touch the side of his face.
I vowed I’d find a way to give it to him. I knew where he lived. I could simply deliver it to his door. It would be very forward on my part, but I could do it. Or maybe in the weeks before Christmas, I would run into him at the office again. That would be less intrusive for sure.
Once I was home and all my groceries and presents carried inside, I went straight to the bear. I held it up and stared at its sweet furry muzzle, its gleaming button eyes. The scarf it wore had little snowflakes on it. This bear, I decided, had a secret life. He went out during the winter, not staying and hibernating like a good bear should.
It was the perfect gift, and I knew it.
I constructed the Christmas box and placed the bear inside with a bit of crumpled white tissue paper. The lid went on and that was that. This gift would live in my car until I delivered it to its proper owner.
6
Ever
I spent another two weeks dodging Birch. He’d sent me a couple of texts asking how I was. I didn’t respond. It was rude of me. He’d been a total gentleman, doing me a huge favor by getting my drunk ass safely home, and now I was ghosting him. I hated myself for it.
The more time that passed when I didn’t see him, the harder it was for me to imagine I could look him in the eye now without flinching and feeling the need to apologize.
It made me sick. My anxiety came on more often now. I’d had it bad in high school and seen a therapist for it. She offered to send me to a psychiatrist for drugs to help, but I refused. With the help of therapy alone, I learned techniques to manage it myself and, as an adult, the onset of it became rarer. Until now.
I dreaded going to work every day. And yet a part of me couldn’t let this go. I thought of Birch every night before I went to sleep, how he’d gently helped me from his car and let me lean on him, how he had taken off my shoes and covered me with my favorite blanket. And how I’d awakened with my beloved teddy bear butted right up against my cheek.
I needed to text Birch and be done with it. Why was I procrastinating?
Thanksgiving was quickly approaching and then there would be extra days off work. I wouldn’t have to worry about running into him, but a part me of me so wanted to glimpse him at least one more time before the holiday.
Frustrated with myself, I sat and glared at my phone all Saturday morning. Finally, I grabbed it and opened Birch’s contact screen. Before I could stop myself, my thumbs were flying over the letters, my text composing itself as if by magic.
Ever: I know it’s been a while since we’ve seen each other. I should have thanked you much sooner for your help in getting me home safely after your sister’s party. So… thank you. I appreciate your actions and apologize if I was a burden to you. I had fun at the party but it didn’t end well for me. That is all my doing. Again, thank you. Please do not feel obligated to respond to this text.
I hesitated for the count of three before hitting send. I watched the little icon change from sending to sent and let out a groan before tossing my phone on the couch cushion beside me.
“Now it’s done,” I said to myself. “Your stupid actions can stay in the past and you can forget.”
I stole a glance at my silent phone. I did not expect a reply, but my action told me I was secretly hoping. I flopped onto my side and kicked my legs like a little brat. Then I crossed my arms and gripped hard at my sweater.
No going back now. Birch was the past and I needed to move forward. Despite the fact that I had decided he was gay, I would have been a burden to him. He shouldn’t be saddled with a needy boy like me. And if he laughed at my needs for cuddling and petting and other things like my previous boyfriend had, I don’t think I’d be able to take it.
I had to face the truth. The kinds of daddies who might begin to want a boy like me were rare, and probably over fifty, which wasn’t my thing. And even if I found one of them willing to take on a burdensome boy like me, they were probably into things I wasn’t, like bondage and sadism. It seemed to go hand in hand with that crowd.
I didn’t like to be tied up. And I didn’t like to be hit. I was scared of public sex displays, and I didn’t want to share. If I ever found the right daddy for me, he would be all mine and no one else’s. One thing about myself I knew since I was very young: when I gave my heart, I gave it all the way.
“Fuck and shit.” I pounded my fist against my couch’s arm. My little tantrum almost caused me to miss the chime of my cell.
Quickly, I sat up, grabbing my phone. I almost didn’t want to look. My eyes blinked at the lit-up message.
Birch: I’m thrilled to hear from you. I understand that we didn’t part on the best of terms for you. For me, it was a wonderful night and I didn’t mind in the least seeing you home safely. I would never have allowed anything bad to happen to you. It was my pleasure to know that you were secure in your own bed before I left you. I hope you are okay with that. I only want the best for you and I have missed our mornings at the coffee cart.
I had to read the text twice to fully grasp all the meanings it held. There were messages in between the lines of it. I didn’t have to be psychic to see them.
Every word Birch wrote ignited another little flame deep inside.
I would never have allowed anything bad to happen to you.
It was my pleasure to know that you were secure in your own bed.
The man certainly knew how to wow me even if he didn’t realize it himself.
There were deliberate word choices here. He didn’t have to type the word thrilled about hearing from me. He basically said he’d been wanting to text me, too. Wow. And that protective tone came out in every sentence. I could almost hear him saying all the words right in my ear, his tone low and laced with honey, his body pressing next to mine.
Texting him put me in more of a whirl than I had ever been. I stuck my tongue against the inside of my cheek and typed.
Ever: I have been going to work earlier than usual. Sorry not to see you for coffee and the elevator ride. Things have been hectic.
I quickly hit send before I overthought and overwrote my reply. My lie. Because I was lying. He had to know I’d been avoiding him. My face heated at my immature behavior.
My phone chimed again. Excitement washed over me that maybe, just maybe, we were having a conversation.
Birch: You don’t have to explain anything to me. I am happy you texted. I’m also happy to learn you didn’t get another job where I might not see you. And that you didn’t move. (laughing emoji) I do hope to see you again, though. I hope I’m not being too forward but I like the vibe between us and wish for it to continue.
That last sentence blew my mind. He liked me. He wanted to continue our friendship, if that was what it could be called. Perhaps acquaintance was the better word. He used the word vibe, too. I liked it.
Ever: You aren’t being forward at all. I like the vibe, too.
Again, I sent it quickly before I could change my mind.
Birch: If you mean that—about me not being too forward—would you like to have a real coffee meeting with me sometime? Where we can sit and talk some more?
Ever: I’d like that very much. When?
I was moving too quickly and winced when I reread my already sent message.
Birch: I’m free this afternoon. Or anytime tomorrow. Next week is Thanksgiving, which Brooke is having at her place. But I was hoping not to wait until after that date.
This afternoon. So soon? After everything I’d put him through, he wanted to see me. I had to curb myself from jumping up and stomping my feet on my rug in glee.
Ever: This afternoon is free for me. Where and when?
Birch: Do you know Awesome Coffee on Decatur?
Ever: Yes. I know it.
Birch: What time is good for you?
Ever: Any time. I can be there.
Birch: How about two?
Ever: I’ll be there.
The texting abruptly stopped. I stared at my screen. After all this time avoiding him, did I just make a date with Birch?
7
Birch
The weight of the present I’d bought for Ever that had sat in the back of my car for two weeks followed me into the coffee shop. I wasn’t going to say or do anything about it until after we talked. It was the type of present that hinged on many things. If he saw it too soon, he’d know I’d somehow spied on him in the superstore. At the wrong moment, it would fail to cement any trust between us.
I walked in and right away I saw Ever sitting at little table by the window. He wore a black sweater and jeans. His hair was so shiny it practically glowed.
I approached, shrugging out of my jacket.
Ever’s beautiful face lit up when he saw me. A good sign. Things were starting off well and we hadn’t even spoken.
“Hi,” I said, putting my coat on the back of the chair.
“Hi. I ordered what you usually order in the lobby. Is that okay? I can change it.”
“It’s wonderful.” I smiled. I didn’t like that he’d paid, but I let it slide. “Are you hungry? I can get us some cinnamon rolls.”
“Oh, wow. Sure. If you want.”
I went to the cashier and had him add it to our order.
When I sat across from him, he said, “It’s getting cold out. I think it might snow by Thanksgiving.”
“That would be beautiful.”
“I like snow, too,” he said.
“Do you have plans?”
His face fell. “Sort of. My best friend Kristin always has Thanksgiving at her place. I never miss it. My family is all on the east coast now. They moved there when I was in college. I stayed to continue college here.” He had his hands clasped on the table and was pulling and squeezing at his fingers. “I need to thank you again. For what you did after the party. I’m very sorry.”
“Sorry for what? Having a good time?” I chuckled. “That was the point.”
“Yeah, but you had to take care of me and that’s not fair. You hardly know me. I’m not usually that much of a brat.”
His use of the word brat made me smile. “No?”
“Seriously, no. My parents raised me to have manners. But when I am having a good time I sometimes don’t know when to stop.”
“That’s the way it is for everyone, especially at your age,” I said. “If you’re worried about what I think, don’t be. It could have been far worse. You could have thrown up all over my car.”
“Oh, no, I wouldn’t ever do that.” He put his hand over his heart and made an “icky” face. “Promise.”
I pushed it a little further to watch his reaction. “You could have thrown up on me.”
His mouth turned down. “I’m so sorry.” He looked up as the waitress brought us our coffees and cinnamon rolls.
When she left, Ever said, “Coffee is a far safer drink, right?”
“Yes. It is.” I grinned. “And next time you’ll let me buy, okay?”
“Next time?”
I nodded. “I enjoy your company. I might be bold and ask you for coffee again.”
Ever’s cheeks pinked. He ducked his head. “I might say yes again.”
We’d wasted so much time. I should have texted him the very next day after the Halloween party to ask how he was. I’d stupidly held back. And so had he.
It was very apparent to me now that Ever had been quite embarrassed after the party. Even if he wasn’t the boy I saw in the store, I was a daddy type and I should have taken the initiative. It was my role with anyone I took a liking to. I enjoyed being the provider, to pay, to plan dates and outings.
“I’m so glad I asked you to coffee.” I glanced about the little shop. “I like this.”
“Me, too.”
“I was wondering something.” It was now or never. I didn’t want to ruin the moment between us, but I couldn’t let this go unspoken.
“What?”
“This feels like a date to me and I’m wondering how you feel about that.”
Ever sat back in his chair, his hands flat on the table on either side of his coffee. He hadn’t touched the cinnamon rolls.
Immediately, I wanted to take back my statement. I cleared my throat. “I need to know.”
“I—I—don’t know.” He slid his hands off the edge of the table and into his lap.
“You don’t know if this feels like a date or you don’t know how you feel about it?” I kept my tone soft, protective of his feelings.
“Um, I guess.” He took a deep breath, staring at his coffee cup. “I guess it does feel like a date?” Finally, he glanced up. “I like it?”
Phrasing his response as a question told me he wanted approval. I could do that.
“I like it. Very much.”
He blinked twice. “You—you want to date me?”
I put my hands on my cup to feel the warmth seep through. It gave me courage. “If it’s all right with you. Yes.”
“Okay.” The word came out like fractured sigh. His lips parted.
I blurted out. “I wasn’t even sure you were gay, but I hoped.”
His teeth chewed at his lower lip. “Is it okay if I thought the same?”
Every muscle in my body relaxed at his words. Oh, sweet baby, yes. Aloud, I said, “It’s a huge relief.”
His lips curved up in a shy smile. “So you’re single?”
“I have been for a while now.”
He sighed. “Yeah, me, too.” His smile wavered but he bravely held onto it.
At the moment, I didn’t want to get into backstories. Mine was dark. I could tell by his nerves that his might be, too.
“This is really nice.” I grabbed the edge of a cinnamon roll, tore it off and bit into it. “Delightful.”
“I still can’t believe you want to date me after—after everything.”
“What? Are you still talking about Brooke’s punch? It’s deceptive. Everyone gets stinking drunk on it the first time they try it. It’s her superpower.”
A short chuckle rumbled through his chest. Ever picked up his coffee and took a couple of sips. “I have a confession.”
“Confess away.” I, myself, still needed to divulge my daddy quirks. Not to mention the giant gift in the backseat of my car.
“I thought about texting you every single day.” Ever’s dark eyes glimmered.
I leaned in. “Me, too.”
He brushed his hand through the air as if in dismissal. “You’re just saying that.”
“No.” The muscles in my face hardened. “I was worried about you.”
“That’s hard to believe.”
“Believe it. I had fun at the party. Maybe I should have stayed on your couch until morning just to make sure you were okay. I really wanted to take care of you.”
“Take care of me?” he echoed.
“Very much.”
“We’d only just met in the coffee line for a couple weeks before that party.”
“I know. But even then, you affected my pulse.”
Ever’s cheeks pinked again. It was so cute. He had pale olive skin, but the cheeks were a few shades lighter, and the blushes showed up every time he had an emotional reaction to me. He was lovely and I’d been hooked the moment my knees had gone weak at first sight of him.
