Miller nodded enthusiastically as his eyes grew wide in excitement. “Do they have familiars?”
I laughed a bit, loving how he was already getting into the spirit of the game. “As a matter of fact, some do. There is a certain path you have to take, but familiars are definitely a thing.”
“I want to be one of those,” he said, nodding once for emphasis.
“Then a warlock you shall be.”
We spent a good portion of the next hour sorting out his character and familiar and leveling them up to match the rest of the group while Lee played on his phone and occasionally threw in a smart remark or two. With every word he spoke, Miller was slowly wrapping me around his little finger without even realizing it. Hell, when Miller had haltingly brought up the idea of having a shapeshifting cat familiar that could go from the size of a house cat to that of a small horse, I hadn’t had the heart to tell him they didn’t exist and had created one just for him.
“You need a name for your character.”
“Mjölnir,” he said without a second’s hesitation.
“Thor’s hammer,” I replied just as fast.
“Yeah.” His eyes met mine as we shared a smile. And this time, it stayed a bit longer than the brief flashes he’d been giving me.
“I had a thing for mythology in high school,” I said, explaining how I knew the reference.
“I bet all the boys loved that,” Lee chimed in.
I couldn’t help but laugh at his dry, bored tone. “Shut up, Lee.”
Seeing an opportunity, Lee leaned forward and braced his forearms on the table. “Oh, Carson, you’re so big and strong and so smart. Maybe I should call you Zeus. Want to show me your lightning bolt?”
I laughed. “Leland, you’re such an idiot, I swear.”
Turning back to Miller, I noticed him starting to look anxiously at Lee. Not liking that at all, I moved to distract him. “Miller, you need a miniature and some dice. I have a ton in my game room you can use. You want to come pick some out?”
He looked at Lee first, but he was already tapping away at his phone again and not paying attention.
“Okay,” Miller agreed softly.
Standing, I held out my hand to help him up. He stared at it for a while, making no move to take it. I looked at my hand, realizing this wasn’t something one grown man did for another. In my defense, Miller was pinging every radar I had—hard. The Dom in me wanted to whisk him away to my bedroom and show him all my fun toys while my Daddy side wanted to pull him into my lap and cuddle him close while I played with his hair.
My hand was halfway back to my side when he gently grabbed it and stopped its descent. His skin was soft as his fingers glided over my palm. Resisting the urge I had to brush my thumb across the back of his hand, I helped him up and let him take back possession of his limb.
“It’s this way,” I said, clearing my throat and forcing down the arousal his brief touch had inspired.
Leaving him to follow, I slipped down the hallway and into my game room. Passing my miniature painting station, I stopped by the shelf that held my warlocks. I waited for the sound of his footsteps to enter the room. Counting them, I knew he’d stopped right inside the door and wasn’t coming any further inside.
“These are the warlocks I have,” I said, pointing to the shelf in front of me. Turning, I gestured toward the plastic display case that held my dice collection. “There’s dice in there that you can use.”
Opening a bin of supplies, I found a small box and held it out to him. “You can store everything in here.”
He eyed the plastic as if it was going to bite him. At that moment, reading his expression combined with everything I’d gleaned from him in our short time together, it dawned on me that his shyness and caution weren’t based on personality but fear. Someone had hurt him in the past. Someone had hurt him badly.
“Pick out a miniature and a couple of sets of dice you like,” I said, dropping my voice to its most soothing. Stepping forward slowly, I held out the box within