Grayson didn’t want Finley to leave, but he was too tired to fight his heavy eyelids. He would just take a quick nap, and then he would text Finley to thank him for an amazing day. That was the last thought he had before the world disappeared.
For several minutes, Finley watched Grayson sleep. He was the sweetest guy Finley had met in years. Even after spending the entire day together, Finley still didn’t know much about Grayson. He was shy and spoke very little. Grayson didn’t need to tell Finley a thing. It didn’t take a genius to know Grayson had obviously been severely neglected. He was too small for his age to have been stunted from anything other than malnutrition. Finley had watched him eat. Grayson visibly ate at a slow pace, as if he had taught himself to not look desperate. Finley had spent the entire day studying him. He didn’t see any signs of physical abuse, such as scarring, or bones set incorrectly. But it was obvious Grayson had been ignored to the point of criminal, and Finley wanted to fix that.
When his presence in Grayson’s room bordered on creepy, Finley slipped away. Benji had let them inside and unlocked Grayson’s bedroom for him. There was no sign of him now. As much as Finley adored Benji, Finley was grateful to be left with his thoughts. He needed to think. The day had been equal parts amazing and heartbreaking. Finley hadn’t played like that since his husband died. He wasn’t looking for a relationship or trying to replace Coby, but he couldn’t lie to himself either. Finley liked Grayson as more than a friend. He had fought the urge to kiss Grayson all day. Finley had definitely touched Grayson way more than necessary. They had a spark. Finley thought he should probably stay away from Grayson, but he already knew he wouldn’t. Grayson had his attention.
Finley drove home on autopilot while his mind churned. The moment he stepped inside his house; the sensation of drowning washed over Finley. He went right back outside. Finley sat at the patio table and stared at the now calm pool. Finley tried forcing his thoughts away from Coby without luck. Coby had been a Little too, but that was where the similarities with Grayson ended. Grayson was quiet and sweet. Coby had been loud and bratty. Passionate. Finley’s body ached every time he thought about their life together. He missed being touched.
The final year of Coby’s life, they hadn’t made love. Coby had been too sick. It was crazy to Finley when he thought about how it had been over two years since he had been with anyone sexually. Time just seemed to pass without his participation. Since moving to New Orleans, Finley only worked part time. He had lost his love of being a doctor when he hadn’t been able to save Coby. Finley didn’t think he had any real control over anyone’s health. He could treat people. Maybe even prolong a life. But Finley had zero ability to save anyone… even himself. He knew he was slowly suffocating alone, but he couldn’t imagine ever being intimate with anyone else again. His heart had died with Coby. He didn’t want to love anyone else.
Finley’s phone buzzed in his pocket, startling him from his spiraling thoughts. He stood and dug the phone from his pocket before reclaiming his seat.
Grayson: Thank you for today. I’m sorry I fell asleep on you.
A smile exploded across Finley’s face.
Finley: I had a good time. Thank you for agreeing to spend the day with me.
Grayson: Maybe we can do it again sometime.
Finley: I’d like that. Get some sleep. I’ll text you tomorrow.
Grayson: Okay. Goodnight.
Finley: Goodnight.
For several seconds, Finley stared at his phone until the truth hit him. He was smiling at the device like an idiot. Until that moment, he hadn’t recognized the truth. He was fucked.
Chapter Three
In the two weeks since Finley had made Grayson lunch and taken him swimming, they had spent nearly every day together. Finley took Grayson on trips to the park, arcades, and museums. He kept Grayson busy. It was nice. Grayson was getting better at talking to Finley. Mostly, they just enjoyed each other’s company. Finley still hadn’t given Grayson any signs he wanted to be more than friends. Grayson wanted that, though. He needed to know where they stood. Grayson craved kisses and cuddles, but Finley never did more than offer the occasional hug. Sometimes, though, Finley would look at him in a certain way that made butterflies stir in Grayson’s stomach. Those were the moments that gave Grayson hope.
Despite not being very good with words, Grayson knew he had to say what he wanted. Otherwise, nothing would change. He needed to know where things were headed. Grayson didn’t want to live in limbo when he could be climbing into Finley’s lap whenever he wanted if they were a couple. Since they’d met, Finley had shown at every one of Silas’ parties. Tonight was no different. Side by side, they colored in Grayson’s favorite coloring book. It was an adult book with lots of curse words. The book was at odds with itself. Just like Grayson. There were things Grayson liked about being an adult, but mostly, he wanted what he never had: to be cared for and loved. Finley was the first person to make Grayson feel like it could happen.
With his heart in his throat, Grayson scooted closer to Finley, hoping he wouldn’t be overheard. He kept his voice low. “Finley.”
Sweet green eyes swung his way. “Aye, wee one?”
Grayson licked his lips and swallowed. He had never been more scared in his life. He had a question he needed answered. “Will you be my daddy?” In his nervousness, the words came out in a fast and jumbled mess. Grayson knew Finley understood, though. His expression answered before his mouth said a word.
“I can’t do that, angel. My heart belongs to someone else.”
It was like getting kicked in the stomach. His eyes burned. Grayson couldn’t breathe. As much as he wanted to handle the rejection well, he had to get away. Finley was Grayson’s friend, and he didn’t want to lose that. But Grayson had also thought they were spending time together for a reason, and they weren’t. Without meeting Finley’s stare, Grayson shoved his coloring books into his backpack. His hands shook with hurt and anger. He had never put himself out there before. Grayson had honestly thought Finley felt something for him. He was beyond humiliated. Crayons rolled across the floor in his rush.
“Let me help,” Finley said, sounding patient. His tone only enraged Grayson more. He was so calm. Finley was always gentle. It made the humiliation worse. Grayson wanted to be wanted, goddamn it.
He snatched the loose crayons from Finley. “I’m big enough to do it.”
“Grayson.”
Grayson stood, clutching his half-closed backpack to his chest, and leaving some of his crayons behind. If he stayed a second longer, he would cry. He had already embarrassed himself enough for one night.
At the edge of the playpen, a man lifted Grayson over the edge and set him on his feet on the other side. “Hey there, little one. Why are you running away?”
Grayson sniffed. A stuttered breath left him. It was getting less likely by the second that he wouldn’t fall apart. “I need to find a daddy.”
The dark-haired guy smirked. His brown eyes flashed with wicked intent. “I’m free.”
“He’s not looking for you,” Finley said behind Grayson with that fucking calm-ass tone that was four inches beneath Grayson’s skin.
Grayson took several rapid breaths. His chest rose and fell with each one. “I can find my own daddy,” Grayson screeched at the top of his lungs, completely losing it. Before he could draw another breath to scream again, Finley plucked him from his feet, leaving Grayson no other choice but to wrap his legs around Finley’s waist.