Healing Carson's Little - Izaia Winter Page 0,55

I swept my thumbs back and forth against his skin in a soothing motion. “He’s like a stray pet. If I don’t feed him, he’d starve, and then I’d feel bad.”

I heard a soft meow from behind me and rolled my eyes. Miller let out a giggle as the stiffness in his body slowly melted away.

I lowered my voice so Foster couldn’t hear. “Don’t worry about Foster. I’ve known him since I was a kid. He might tease, but he’s got a good heart. He knows all about me and what I like, so there’s pretty much nothing you could say or do that would surprise him. Okay?”

His cheeks were pink, and he squirmed a bit, but I waited for his nod to continue. “So you just be you. Do or say whatever makes you happy.”

Miller leaned into me and spoke. His voice was so quiet I had to strain to hear him.

“He didn’t like it when I was little around others.”

He was a controlling, disgusting excuse for a human being.

“And I don’t care. Here in my apartment, you can be as big or as little as you want to be. Hell, this entire building.” I leaned down and dropped a kiss on his lips. “And if someone doesn’t like it, they can take it up with me.”

He chased my lips with his as I pulled away. Laughing, I kissed him again.

“Miller,” I said, pulling back. “This is Foster. Foster—”

“We’ve met,” Foster interrupted as I turned toward him.

“When?” I asked as I placed my hand on Miller’s back and guided him to his seat, happy to see the bunny back at his side and not hidden away.

“Last week,” Foster said in between bites. “He and Lee had just arrived for game night, and I was coming in from the club. We had a nice little chat coming up the stairs. Hello again,” he said, leaning around me to see Miller.

“Hello.” Miller climbed into his seat. Looking around, he placed the bunny in his lap and reached for his sandwich.

Realizing we needed napkins as Miller got a bit a salad on his hand and then promptly licked it off, I rounded the counter and entered the kitchen. Grabbing a couple of kitchen towels, I placed one next to Miller, one beside my own plate, and then tossed the third at Foster’s face—much to Miller’s delight. Unfortunately, Foster caught it before it made contact and delicately pressed it to his mouth as if he was some kind of prim, fancy lady.

Looking over at Miller’s laugh, Foster grinned. When his eyes dropped down, I knew he’d noticed Miller’s stuffy.

“Cute bunny,” he said as I moved to join them. “What’s their name?”

Miller blushed as he looked at the bunny in his lap. “Sprinkles.”

“Cute.” Foster turned to me as I approached. “Hey, I forgot to mention that Marcus cornered me in my office and told me there was something wrong with our last order of wristbands. I told him to talk to you since you’re the money man.”

I didn’t know whether to kick Foster’s ass or thank him. In his own way, Foster had been trying to let Miller know that he was open to his littleness by drawing attention to it and normalizing it. Saying, ‘See, there’s nothing to hide or be ashamed of with me.’

I turned to Miller to gauge his reaction, but he was happily eating away at his food and not paying us any attention.

I scowled as I took my seat. “If I’m the money man, what does that make you?”

“I’m the people person, obviously.”

I snorted. Foster was in charge of the day-to-day operations of the club, organizing events and classes, and settling disputes between both members and employees. He was what made the club run so smoothly, but a people person he was not. “You love to meddle in drama. The day I’d classify you as a people person is the day I turn into a Sadist.”

Miller laughed then instantly regretted it when he started coughing. Concerned, I thumped on his back to help dislodge the bit of food stuck in his throat.

“Are you okay, little darling?”

I ignored the squeal I heard from Foster’s direction as Miller gasped and reached for his drink.

“Yeah,” he said, taking a sip of his tea. “Sorry, food went down the wrong pipe.”

I kept my hand on his back and rubbed little circles until I was sure he was okay. Looking back at Foster, I sighed. At some point, he’d twisted in his chair until

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