Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56560 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56560 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
“Do peanuts count? Are they a vegetable?” His confused expression made the question believable and not like he was doing his best to waste time, but it answered my question without him meaning to.
“Cookies or a candy bar?” Sitting up, I did my best to look serious and not laugh. He was just so dramatic and had the best expressions.
I definitely hadn’t paid enough attention to him today, though, or I’d have already known the answer to that question.
It was taking him entirely too long to think of a good way to answer me, which made me sigh. “You need real food and at least one vegetable.”
“People don’t die of scurvy after missing one meal of veggies, Daddy. I checked.” His expression was serious enough that I had no doubt he’d googled that fact. “But veggies and noodles are happy together, so I’ll be very good.”
“I’m glad.” I wasn’t going to argue with him about when scurvy set in, though. “Alright. Show me what your clothes choices are and do you want a shower before we go to dinner? I need to change clothes at the very least.”
Instead of considering the question like I’d expected, he lifted one arm and sniffed. “No. I don’t stink.”
We should probably think about taking a detour to buy bubble bath on the way home.
“Perfect.” I could’ve told him that, though. “Clothes time.”
Then it was off to get dinner because I was pretty sure I was hearing his stomach growling from halfway across the room.
****
“So you’re all bi. You’re a Daddy. The cousins you work with are cool with that. Oh, and my kitchen is almost done.” Terrence just seemed to be listing off facts he knew as he rocked side to side in his booth.
They seemed to be the start of actual questions, though, so I treated them that way. “Yes, we’re all bi. It was one of the things that pushed us together and we were all interested in working with our hands.”
Terrence was bouncing back and forth on his hands, which seemed to be his little side barely being held back. He hadn’t been kidding when he said that noodles made him little. Just being in the restaurant made him have to fight to stay big.
“The rest of this generation seems to all be interesting in some way or another, but some of them are more private than others.” I shrugged when he cocked his head. “I’m more of a live and let live kind of guy, so I haven’t asked and I’m just guessing about a few of them.”
“You’re a Daddy, though.” The rocking stopped long enough for him to grip his glass with two hands and take a drink of his water.
He managed not to sigh and pout that time, but it was close.
“Yes. I’ve been in the lifestyle for a few years but I knew something was missing a long time before that.” The bi thing had been one of those something is off things as well. “But I’ve explored it enough that I’m comfortable with it and being bi.”
No point in making him worry about me half-assing the lifestyle and then running from what I wanted.
“Do you have questions?” People generally had questions but he seemed more focused on his drink than anything else. “Would you like juice?”
He’d announced right off the bat that giving him caffeine at dinner would be a bad idea, but drinking water seemed to be torture.
And since it was one I hadn’t set up, I didn’t see the need to keep it going.
Especially since it wasn’t turning him on or making him happy.
Little Terrence flashed in his eyes before he shoved him back, but grown-up Terrence cocked his head. “Grown-ups drink water or soda or alcohol or tea.”
His list wasn’t technically wrong about part of his statement, but he’d made a few assumptions I didn’t agree with. “But you’re not always a grown-up and I don’t care if you have juice or milk as long as it will make you happy.”
“I like being happy.” He seemed to be admitting that begrudgingly. “Other things make me happy too.”
Other things?
Drink things?
“Would a straw make you happy?” Was that what this was about? “Did someone tell you that straws weren’t for grown-ups?”
“Most grown-ups don’t use them.” He looked around the room, nodding to himself. “See?”
No.
But arguing with him seemed like it would be frustrating.
“Do you want juice, milk, or lemonade?” I was going to ignore the straw drama for the time being. “You know, women use straws so they don’t smudge lipstick, so there are very practical reasons to use straws.”
He didn’t seem to know what to do with that fact, so he ignored it. “Lemonade, please.”
So if I stumped him with something random, he’d go back to the original topic?
“I think that’s a very good option.” For him. Lemonade was somehow both too sweet and too sour for me. “I’ll make sure to ask the waiter for it when he comes back, but are you excited about your meatballs…and noodles?”