We stayed at the club until two o'clock, which was probably not such a bright idea given the fact that both me and Kevin had an early shift at the café. I could only hope Callan would go easy on me tomorrow, seeing as I would meet with him after work. On second thoughts, I didn't want him to go easy on me at all–not even with possible headache and little sleep; that was what aspirin and coffee were for.

Apparently, David didn't live far from Kevin's place, and since Thomas was going to sleepover at Kevin's, we all ended up sharing an Uber and dropped me off first.

"It was really nice meeting you guys," I said, speaking a half-truth as I stepped out of the car. It had been great meeting Thomas, but the other guy, not so much.

"You too!" Thomas slurred from the front passenger seat, and David echoed the sentiment. They were all pretty much drunk, even Kevin, who had work early tomorrow, but I'd only had two drinks; see? I could be sensible. Though, it had more to do with David than anything else. I didn't want to get drunk with him around. Throughout tonight, I'd stayed close to Kevin and Thomas, and laid off drinking anything but water after David's weird comment.

When I got inside my apartment, I opened my purse and got out my phone. I hadn't looked at it once tonight. It had been a fun night out, besides the fact that I had to make sure I was never alone with David.

Thomas was so sweet and clearly enamored with my friend. He also watched out for me the same way Kevin always did. Thomas helped me out of uncomfortable situations with men who were hitting on me. He'd even yelled at one guy who was coming on too strong. "Move along, boys. She's gay!" I wasn't, but it definitely helped with getting the man gone.

All in all, I was happy I'd gone out with them–if only so I could meet the one my best friend was falling for.

Turning on my phone, I saw several notifications on the locked screen. I usually had one notification–if that–when I went a couple of hours without it, and that was usually some stupid shit like a snap from Team Snapchat. I wasn't exactly popular with lots of friends to text–just the essential ones.

My eyes widened as I see that the texts were from Callan.

Mateo mentioned you were going out tonight. Have fun, and send me a text when you get home, so I know you got back safely.

I'm starting to get worried, are you home yet?

Emma, if you don't answer, I'll come to you.

My heart warmed at the thought of Callan worrying about me. It was a sweet gesture and one I wasn't used to. Unless it was my parents, I didn't get messages like this. I probably would've gotten one from Kevin, but then again, whenever I was out–which was rarely–it was with him.

Just as I started texting back, telling him I was okay, someone pounded on my door. I almost jumped out of my skin at the sudden noise from the hallway outside.

"Emma, are you in there?" Callan's voice was unmistakable, and I breathed a sigh of relief. For a second there, I envisioned a thief, or something worse, trying to break into my apartment.

Hurrying to my door, I unlocked and opened it, meeting the face of a worried–and slightly irritated–Callan.

He didn't even wait for me to invite him in as he walked past me. He stopped when he was in the middle of the room, and turned towards me.

"You didn't text back," he commented as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"I was just about to," I said. "I'm sorry for not answering sooner. I'm not used to people looking after me like that."

"Get used to it, Sweetheart. So, you're okay?" His eyes trailed over every part of me, trying to see if I was, in fact, okay.

"Yeah, I'm a little tired, that's all." Now that I mentioned it, he looked just as tired. "Why are you even up this late? I hope I didn't keep you awake." I worried at my lower lip.

Callan had never been in my apartment before, and now that he was in it, the place felt smaller, like he was taking up all the space with his presence.

"I was at work," he answered. God, did this man ever sleep? I got the sense that he woke up early and didn't go to bed until late at night. That couldn't be a healthy lifestyle. "You should eat something," he changed the subject so quickly I got dizzy.

"No, that's okay. I just thought I'd drink some water and head off to bed." I wasn't really hungry either–I never was after I'd been out.

His eyes narrowed. "You were out drinking, right?" When I nodded, he turned and found the kitchen–not that it was difficult to spot, with how tiny my apartment was. "I'll make you some toast. You have work tomorrow, and then you're with me after, or did you forget?"

"I definitely didn't forget," I mumbled. How could I, when these men were all I could think about?

"Good, then you'll eat. Just because you had a late night doesn't mean you're off from your evening with me. That's my day, and I won't give it away." He smirked and went ahead with making me food. It was almost comical watching him in my barely-there kitchen, searching in my cupboards and the fridge, and grabbing what he needed. He was almost bigger than the kitchen. I didn't have much in the fridge, but I had the essential items for toast.

"I didn't want to get the day off anyway," I admitted. I was standing close by, my eyes drinking in the sight of him. It was such a domestic thing to do, him making me something to eat. My heart squeezed a bit with some unnamed emotion.

As he finished up, he grabbed the plate and a water bottle from my fridge. "Where do you eat?" There wasn't judgment in his voice or eyes as he examined my apartment.

"Either by the desk or in my bed," I answered. I was too tired to be ashamed of my crappy place. Though, I felt I should be, considering I'd been to his penthouse apartment and seen just how luxurious he was living compared to me.

"We'll sit on the bed," he decided and led the way before sitting down on the small bed gracefully. Me? I wasn't as graceful as I plopped down beside him.

"Here you go." He handed me both the bottle and the plate, which I placed on my lap.

"Thank you," I said, touched at the way he was taking care of me. When I decided I wanted a dominant, I never envisioned it would be like this; Aftercare, sure, but not this. It made me feel cherished.

"Do you want the half? I won't be able to eat the whole thing," I offered, holding the plate for him.

He didn't make a move to take it. "Eat what you can first."

It should've been awkward eating like this, with his eyes entirely focused on me, but somehow, it wasn't.

The toast tasted way better than if I'd made it, even if I used the same ingredients. I guessed it all depended on who was making it and why. Callan made it with the intent of taking care of me, and there was no other spice that tasted as good as that. I hummed while I ate, apparently hungry after all.

Callan smiled, happy that I was enjoying myself.

"Did you have fun tonight? I don't need to beat anyone up?" he asked.

Laughing, as if he were joking, I answered, "Yeah, it was pretty fun. Thomas, Kevin's boyfriend, seemed like such a sweet person. But..." I trailed off, not quite sure how to describe David.

"But?" he prompted.

"Thomas' friend, David, was kind of odd." I took a sip of the water, but when I saw Callan's narrowed eyes, I hurried up and explained. "He didn't try anything. He was just...odd," I repeated that word because that was precisely how he'd been; strange.

"Odd, how?" Callan pushed, and I shrugged.

"I don't know...he commented something about date-rape drugs and how I should be careful. It just skeeved me out."

Callan left the conversation at that, looking lost in thought.

When I finished with my toast–I'd only managed half–I offered once again the other half to him. This time, he took it, making a small comment about not wasting food.

Once again, I noticed the way he ate–not that I was staring or being rude or anything like that, but it was hard not to see how he was consuming it. It was like he was stressing himself to eat it as fast as possible. Why? Well, weren't that the question.

He finished it in a couple of minutes.

"You should be careful with David. Never be alone with him," he picked up the conversation where we left it.

"I won't be alone with him," I promised easily. That had been my plan all along.

"Good. I'm glad you're oka–" His comment was cut off by his yawn, setting off one of my own. The clock was a little over three and too late for Callan to have to drive back to his place.

"You should stay here tonight. That is...if you want to share a tiny bed with me," I said and was shocked at how easy it was for me to suggest it.

He turned towards me, holding my gaze. "Are you sure?"

I nodded. "Yeah. You shouldn't have to drive all the way back to your place. I don't have an extra toothbrush, but you can borrow mine."

"Thanks, Sweetheart." He leaned in and gave me a soft kiss. "You go to the bathroom first. I can wait."

Nodding, I did just that. When Callan had his turn, I crawled in bed. I'd decided in the last second to sleep in only my underwear; I didn't sleep well in pajamas.

By the time he got into bed, I was almost asleep. He arranged me, so I laid mostly on him, making the most out of the small space we had.

"Bella?" he whispered.

"Hm?" I mumbled back, half-way into dreamland. His chest was too damn comfortable, or maybe I was just too tired–it was probably the latter because his pecs were anything but soft.

"New rule. If you go out, check your phone once in a while."