Page 222 of Daddy's Pride

There was another one of those winky emojis. And now she was calling me “sweetheart,” too? Before I could decide how I felt about that, especially after I’d just told her that I wasn’t flirting, she sent another one.

SATURDAY 12:04 AM

Trust me, if your friend Tyler had asked me to spank him tonight, he would have called me Daddy, not Mommy… and it definitely wouldn’t have been my “tits” he’d be promising to suck on.

I gasped and dropped my phone. Then snatched it right back up and read the message a second time. And then let out an embarrassingly high-pitched squeal when the bartender startled the crap out of me by suddenly appearing out of nowhere to collect my empty glass.

“Want another one?” he shouted over the music.

“Um…”

He must have taken my deer-in-the-headlights impression as a yes, because not even a second later, he slid a full glass across the bar to me.

I mumbled a thank you, cringing inside at the tab I must be running up. That was definitely not going to help my tight budget.

But then I decided I was actually grateful he’d taken the decision out of my hands, because yeah. I kind of did want another drink. Maybe even needed one given that it took me re-reading the scary girl’s last message three more times before finally wrapping my head around what it meant.

She didn’t want to be called Daddy.

Because the wrong number Tyler had put in my phone belonged to a guy.

A guy who kept calling me sweetheart and talked about sucking on…

My stomach twisted up, and I put my phone face down as I squirmed on the bar stool, feeling really freaking weird about the whole thing now. I mean, it was good that I hadn’t accidentally been sexually harassing some scary dominatrix, and I couldn’t even fault her—I mean, him—for sort of maybe sexually harassing me back, since I’d started it?

Well, Tyler had.

And he—“Daddy,” not Tyler—hadn’t so much been sexually harassing me, I guessed, as just explaining how I’d gotten it all wrong. But what I wasn’t sure about was whether all of that was better or worse than the mess I’d originally thought Tyler had gotten me into.

I picked up my phone and re-read the whole conversation again, then took a sip of my new drink—a huge one that made me choke, then cough so hard tears leaked out of my eyes—before finally deciding on… better.

Yep, it was definitely better this way, because weird or not, at least the knot I’d had in my stomach after reading Tyler’s original text was gone.

I mean, sure, “Daddy” was a guy—a guy who was a stranger and seemed kind of flirty, but also actually really nice—but even though that meant he was probably gay and I definitely wasn’t, I’d still take a gay Daddy telling me he was proud of me for being a good boy over offending a terrifying dominatrix in leather.

I finished off my new drink and then realized I’d left that last message on read for long enough that I was officially the asshole now. Not that it probably mattered in the long run since we didn’t actually know each other, but it still felt rude. Especially since Gay Daddy had been so great about the whole thing.

Like, actually kind of super great. A little bit funny, a whole lot patient, and really, really nice even if it was in a way that made me feel sort of weird and squirmy inside.

I should at least let him know that, right? It would only be polite, and he did seem to like it when I was polite.

Oh, but first, I should apologize again—apologize to him, since the first apology had been meant for not-him.

SATURDAY 12:15 AM

Ok, um, “Daddy”… sorry for misgendering you.

Well, that was Tyler, actually, and he didn’t mean it since, you know.

I stared at my phone hard, but he wasn’t reading my messages. And then I realized it sounded like I was making excuses.

“Shit,” I muttered, typing fast. I had to fix that before he did read them.

SATURDAY 12:17 AM

But I’m still sorry! I wasn’t trying to put it all on Tyler. You’ve got my apology, too.

Wait, not “too.” Tyler never apologized at all. But I am. This is my apology. I’m really sorry about tonight. Not just the misgendering, but about all of this. So… I’m sorry?