by Sammi Cee
“That’s my room,” Sarge said and pointed to a door at the end of the hall. Gesturing to another door, he said, “Office.” Another door beside the office, “Bathroom.”
I only glanced at every door he pointed out, but my focus was on his bedroom door, and I couldn’t understand why he wasn’t taking me in there yet.
“And this,” he said before pushing open the last closed door, “is your room.”
“What?” I asked in surprise. “M-my room?”
Sarge nodded and flipped on a light switch. I glanced around at the large, queen-sized bed covered in a black and gray plaid blanket. There was a wooden dresser on an opposite wall and a small matching table beside the bed.
“The bathroom across the hall will be yours. I have one attached to my bedroom, so it won’t be an issue. There are plenty of towels in there if you’d like to take a shower.”
“T-thank you,” I stammered as I continued to look at the bed in shock. Then I realized that I didn’t sound sincere. “F-for everything,” I added and waved my hand around to emphasize the house and him rescuing me from the apartment.
“You’re welcome.” Sarge surprised me by leaning closer and placing a kiss on my temple. “Get some rest, boy. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
The soft click of the door shutting behind Sarge was like a punch in the gut. It wasn’t because of everything that’d happened, but because I was in Sarge’s home, but not with him. I had a room. My own room. And it was the nicest room I’d had to myself in a long time. Not even the one at my uncle’s could compare. But I didn’t want it, no matter how ungrateful that sounded. Not when the room I wanted to be in was down the hall and occupied by the man I wanted to be my Daddy. But how did I convince him that we needed to share?
Chapter Fourteen
Sarge
“What’s wrong with your boy?” Law asked as he slid onto the barstool across from me.
“He’s not my boy,” I said irritably.
“Yeah, keep telling yourself that, Sarge. Then tell me what you did to make him so glum. His smile’s so fake it’s going to crack his face.”
I glanced over at Davis, who quickly averted his eyes when he saw me, and then I slammed Law’s beer down in front of him.
“Uh, you gonna answer me or what?”
Monday nights were always slow, so Law would call me on avoiding him if I acted like I had something else to do, but I really didn’t want to get into this with him. “He moved in with me last night.”
The two caterpillars on Law’s face jumped into his hairline and disappeared. “Aren’t you the guy who two weeks ago was still swearing you weren’t ever going to date again? And then after one date, you moved him into your house? You keep that place locked up like a fortress.”
Grabbing the cloth out of the waistband of my jeans, I started polishing the gold rim of the bar so I’d have somewhere to focus. “I’m not that bad. You come over, sometimes.” Really, he was right. With all of the interaction at the bar, my home was my space to be free of the cacophony of noise that rang throughout the bar each night. Even when I hung out with people out of work, I created reasons to go to their house, or I met them out somewhere.
Instead of replying, he swiveled on his stool to watch Davis. It was sheer force of will that kept me from following his gaze like I desperately wanted to. When he scrunched his face, I couldn’t resist any longer and checked to the side where Davis was staring off into space while leaning on the back of a chair. “Wow, Sarge. What did you do that he’d rather stand over there by himself then come over and say hi?”
Dropping all pretense of shining up the gold that the customers couldn’t see anyway, I lifted my hands up at my sides. “That’s just it. He’s been weird since he got up this morning.”
“Maybe he expected a morning quickie.” He cackled, until my death glare penetrated his thick skull. All mirth left his face as he grew serious. “Okay, maybe not. Why don’t you tell me exactly what happened last night.”
One of my regulars lifted their empty bottle at the other end of the bar, so I went to grab them another. After making small talk with him and his companion for a couple of minutes, I turned back toward Law and to the sight of a smiling Davis chatting away. Law’s gaze slid in my direction and Davis peeked over his shoulder, squeezed Law’s bicep quickly, then walked away.
“Wow. Seriously. What did you do?” Law asked once I made it back to him. “Is he talking to you at all?”
“Only when he needs to get a drink for a customer.” I pointed to the virtually empty dining room. “So not so much tonight, no. He’s spent half the night so far with the door propped open to the kitchen chatting with Ralph.”
“Hmm. Well, Ralph really needs to get a life. It’s his night off and he’s back there cleaning the kitchen. Back to the real issue, why is your boy avoiding you?”
“Well, first off, he most certainly didn’t sleep in my bed. I gave him the gray room.”
Law groaned. “Jesus, Sarge. Are you crazy?”
My hackles rose. “What’s that supposed to mean? We went out and had a great dinner and a steamy little kissing session, but he can’t live in that damn complex, Law. It’s horrific there. So I approached the subject of him moving in, and then we talked about a bunch of other things, and the next thing I knew, there was gunfire. I made him leave with me right then and there.”
Law angled his chin in Davis's direction. “I don’t suppose any of that other conversation included you being a Daddy?”
“It did.”
“Who brought it up?” he asked.
“Him.” I tugged on the edge of my beard. “Maybe I shouldn’t have taken him out at all. The best thing to do would have been to leave the relationship stuff alone and just talked to him about being my roommate right off the bat.”
Law grimaced, then sat back with a sigh. “Did you tell him about Jeffrey?”
“I had to. He wanted to know what we were doing? He thought I was trying to move him in after one date, and he was shocked. I assured him that wasn’t the case, and he asked why I was holding back, so I told him all about Jeffrey.”
With an intensity that was abnormal for Law, he surged forward, planting his palms on the bar-top as he leaned toward me. “Did you, though? Did you tell him all about Jeffrey? Did you tell him how part of your dream of opening this place was to be able to afford a house in that ritzy-ass neighborhood Jeffrey was so obsessed with? Did you tell him that Jeffrey didn’t just want a Daddy to take care of him, but someone to dote on him twenty-four-seven.” I clenched my fists at my sides and fought to keep control of my temper. Law knew my tells and glanced down at my hands, snorted, and fell back into his seat again. “I sure as shit know you didn’t tell him that Jeffrey made no effort to help you with this place or that the only times he was here were on opening night when he started shit with you as soon as the doors closed or on the night he left you.”
A gasp came from the station for the waitstaff. Davis laid down his tray and charged over to stand next to Law. He was such a tiny guy that it was adorable rather than scary. “He came to the bar to break it off with you after eight years?”
I shrugged, but Law jumped all over it. Swiveling toward Davis while saying, “Oh yeah, he did. The bar was still open, too. The little princess strolled right in and told Sarge he thought he’d met a man who could potentially be the Daddy he needed. One who cared about him and put his needs before all else.”
Hurt shadowed Davis's eyes as he looked at me. My heart sank knowing that he finally understood why Jeffrey had left me. Why I wasn’t willing to let another boy get invested in a relationship with me when, ultimately, I’d fail them. Davis scooted down the bar briskly, going to the opening to get into my area, and launched himself at me. If there had been any water on the floor, I’d have lost my footing and we’d have both fallen from the force he came at me. “I’m so sorry, Sir.”
Wait. What? “Sorry?” I asked, perplexed.
“I know there are things you s
aid you could’ve done better, and I wasn’t there so if you say there was, then I believe you. But it doesn’t sound like he was the right boy for you, either. You should be happy, too, and your dream should’ve mattered to him.” There wasn’t time to respond before he grabbed a beer out of the ice, popped the cap off on the silver ring, and ran back through the opening, stopping to say, “By the way, I really think it sucks that my potential future with you is being determined by someone I don’t think deserved you anyway.” Then he went out into the dining room to deliver the beer to a customer.
I watched him, puzzled, until the sound of Law’s amused chuckle drew my attention back to him. “Yep, that’s the boy for you.”
“What just happened?”
“Well, your boy told you in no uncertain terms that Daddies get to have feelings, too. I believe that’s something I’ve mentioned a million times. He also made it very clear that he knows you need a boy.” A satisfied grin hovered on his face.
“But”—I gestured toward Davis—“he’s been off all day, barely talking to me. This makes no sense.”
“Sure it does, asshole. You guys spent a lovely evening together, and instead of taking him home with you and kissing his brains out, maybe letting him cuddle by your side for the night, you asked him to be your roommate.” His nose scrunched with displeasure. “Talk about the most unromantic way to end a date. Oh, and let’s make sure we add in that you listed all the reasons why you couldn’t be his Daddy, and knowing you, also why you were hesitant to date him. Yep. Sounds fantastic.” He swooped his arm forward in an oh shucks gesture.
I slumped forward, my shoulders rounding in. “But...he needed to move out of there. You, Ralph, and Bull all agreed with me. I’d only just talked to him about it, and then there ended up being gunfire, and it wasn’t safe for him—”
He put his hand up to cut me off. “Yes, true, you did have to take him out of there, but you didn’t have to add a cherry on top of that shit-tastic sundae by giving him his own room.”
The anger that rose up smashed down the confusion. “Lawson,” I snapped. “You know me better than anyone. You know damn well I would’ve never taken advantage of him by putting him in my bed. Especially when we were right in the midst of such a heavy conversation when we heard the gunshots. He needs time to process through my shortcomings. Maybe he has some kind of hero worship right now because I gave him a job.” He quirked one of those damn bushy brows at me, again. He better watch the next time he got hammered around me. Cutting those judgmental fuckers off was starting to seem like a pretty good idea. “Listen, I have to know I’m not going to fuck this up.”
“You or him?”
“Well, both of us.”
“I call bullshit. You’re scared. Jeffrey bailing hurt. I get that. But don’t mess up a good thing”—he pointed at Davis—“when he’s right in front of your face.” He stood up from the stool, took one last pull from his mug, then spun it toward me on the bar-top. “You wanna know why that boy is pissy? Because he needs his Daddy to man up. He should have woken up in your bed, Sarge.” With those words, he flung a twenty on the counter and strolled out.
I trained my eyes on my duckling as he moved back toward the kitchen door. Was Law right? Had I let my boy down by trying too hard to be respectful? I hadn’t wanted him to feel forced or pressured in any way, but in doing that had I ruined our night? Fuck. Law was right. I’d officially made my boy move out of his place after taking him on a date and then abandoned him. Talk about mixed signals. It was time I either manned-up and was the Daddy he so obviously desperately wanted—needed. Or, I had to find him somewhere else to stay so that we didn’t both end up miserable.
Chapter Fifteen
Davis
It should’ve been odd waking up in a strange bed in a house that wasn’t mine, but it wasn’t. My back didn’t hurt from a too-thin mattress, and my neck was actually supported by a pillow that was fully stuffed, and I didn’t have to fold it in half for some cushion. But I couldn't be happy. Not when my bed was empty, and Sarge was down the hall. If anything, I was pissed. My life had been turned upside down, and rather than spend all night holding me like I’d hoped, he’d left me alone.
My mood only got increasingly worse when Sarge finally gave me a tour of the house after I’d showered and met him in the kitchen where he was pouring a cup of coffee. His watchful eyes were on me as I poured a cup of my own, and after asking if I slept well, I nodded. It wasn’t a lie. I’d slept great, I just hadn’t wanted to do it alone.
“Help yourself to anything in the kitchen,” Sarge offered. “The only thing I ask is you put your dishes in the dishwasher rather than leave them sitting out. After cleaning up all night at the bar, the last thing I want to do is spend extra time picking up dirty dishes.”
I gave another nod. His raised eyebrow told me he wanted a verbal answer, and even though I didn’t want to talk to him since I was so irritated, I answered with, “Yes, sir.”
Sarge grunted, then left the kitchen. I heard a door shut behind him, indicating he’d shut himself in his room, and after letting out a slow exhale, I turned to hunt down something to eat. His cabinets were fully stocked, and the refrigerator would be a chef's dream with all the fresh produce. I settled on a bowl of cereal, since it was something I was used to. Maybe I’d feel comfortable working my way up to using his stove, but for the moment, I wasn’t there. And there was the fact he was treating me like I was a roommate rather than a potential boy.
“I need to get to the bar early today. A truck is coming to do a delivery. Are you okay with arriving a little earlier than your shift?” Sarge asked when he returned to the kitchen a few minutes later.
He was freshly showered, and the cologne he favored filled my nose, and all I wanted to do was bathe in the scent of sandalwood. But I couldn’t, since I was in my own room, so it wasn’t like I had any chance to even smell his damn sheets. Even during his tour, he made it a point to show me inside every room except his. Why was that? And how did I rectify it?
I rinsed my dishes and stacked them in the dishwasher before retreating to my room to grab some clothes. I smirked as I tossed them on my bed and then went to the bathroom to take a shower. The water pressure made me gasp when the water pelted down on me from the faucet like tiny torpedoes, and I wanted to stay under the steady stream until the water ran cold. But we had to leave early, so after washing my hair and body, I shut off the water, ran a towel over me to dry off, and then wrapped another one around my waist. Hope swelled inside me when I opened the door and I stepped into the hallway. I mentally crossed my fingers that Sarge would take one look at my damp body wrapped in the smallest towel I could find, and he wouldn’t be able to hold himself back. But when I looked toward the living room in anticipation of meeting Sarge’s hungry gaze, my bubble of hope burst like a needle to a balloon. He wasn’t even in the damn room.
With a sigh, I crossed the hallway with my shoulders slumped over in defeat, and quickly dressed. Then, I returned to the bathroom to make an attempt to tame my hair and toss my towels in the laundry basket I’d found in the closet. Once I was finished, I went in search of Sarge.
“Are you ready to go?” he asked when I found him in the kitchen again.
I nodded, since I really didn’t have anything to say to him. Not when I was irritated over being treated like a guest and my plans at seduction had been foiled.
At work, I kept our interaction to a minimum. I barely talked to him unless I needed to place an order, and if I wasn’t waiting on customers. I spent my free time chatting with Ralph. If it weren’t for the fact that I had tables to keep an eye on, I’d beg Ralph to let me help him clean in the back.
Hearing Lawson’s words about Jeffrey and how he hurt Sarge the way he did had me seeing red. Even though we were at work, I couldn’t stop myself from lifting up the pass-through, going behind the bar, and throwing myself in his arms. I was still angry with Sarge over the room thing, but his hesitancy made sense. I just had to convinc
e Sarge that I wasn’t Jeffrey somehow, and we wouldn’t have the same result they did.
I didn’t know a damn thing about the idiot who broke Sarge’s heart, but I wanted his head on a platter. I also wanted to thank him for doing me a favor. His loss was my gain, and had he not dumped Sarge, I wouldn't be living with him. The room situation was hopefully a temporary thing, but Jeffrey’s stupidity would be forever. Having Sarge in my arms for that brief hug centered something inside me that let me know I was on the right path—I just needed him on that path with me.
After last call, I kept busy wiping off tables, sweeping the floors, and stacking the chairs on the tables. I even asked Ralph if he needed help in the back, anything to avoid Sarge. I might’ve hugged him, and even understood the situation with Jeffrey, but my irritation was too severe. He practically turned my life—albeit, a shitty one—upside down, and then hesitated to go any further because of an ex. It wasn’t fair.
“You were quiet tonight,” Sarge observed on the way back home.
I could’ve told him I was tired, but that was a lie. I wasn’t tired. I was annoyed. Annoyed over the fact I would spend another night in my room while he would be in his. So rather than say anything, I ignored him.
Once we returned back to the house, I didn't stomp to my room and slam the door like I wanted to. Instead, I went to the kitchen and poured myself a glass of milk. I could feel Sarge watching me from the doorway, so, glass in hand, I turned to catch his gaze. Once our eyes were locked together, I lifted the glass to my lips, and under his watchful eye, I chugged the contents in the glass. Once the glass was empty, I slowly licked the residual milk from my top lip, and then...I set my dirty glass on the counter.
“Good night, sir,” I said as sweetly as possible before brushing past him to head toward my room.