“Your point, Peter? Assuming you have one.” The hard, cold voice his friend Cain called Drew’s “lawyer voice” was as comfortable as a secondskin.
“My point is that I’m concerned about you. I get it’s not my place to say anything, which is why I’ve kept quiet,” Peter said in a rush. “I get that you’re gonna be all pissy about this. I’m very,veryaware. But I like you enough to share this truth with you anyway, which really should count for something when you’re writing my review.” He cleared his throat, and Drew rolled his eyes. “You spend way too much time working. And when you’re not here, you’re generally making sure Sebastian Seaver is okay or helping your mother with her charity things. Do you know that you escorted her to seventy-three charity dinners or galas last year?Seventy.Three.”
Drew pressed his tongue against the back of his teeth to keep from laughing at the outrage in Peter’s voice. “Did you know that figure off the top of yourhead?”
“Of course not! I prepared notes. Would you like to seethem?”
“I don’t think that’ll be necessary.” Drew held up a restraining hand when it seemed like Peter would run back to his desk to retrievethem.
“Right, well. You deserve more. You’re young, you’re cute… I mean, in a boring way that does nothing for me at all,” Peter assuredhim.
Drew couldn’t hold back his snort. “Right. Good toknow.”
“Dark, puppy dog eyes, perfect brown hair, tall, great shape,” Peter said, ticking Drew’s attributes off like he was making a list on his infernal tablet. “Impeccable career, really intelligent, funny, patient with employees who overstepboundaries…”
“Youhope.”
“Oh, I really do,” Peter said fervently. “My point is, you deserve to have fun. This Mark guy is cute. And as the keeper of your schedule, I know for a fact that you have a light week this week for social obligations. Maybe meet the guy for coffee. Talk. See where itgoes.”
Drew cleared his throat, looked into Peter’s concerned eyes, and nodded once. “Your opinion is noted. I’ll considerit.”
“Excellent! I’ll hold off on replying for a couple of days then while you ponder. And, uh, I’ll grab you some lunch in a minute too.” He smiled the winning smile of a man whose performance review was about to be written, then stood abruptly and strode toward the door, likely before Drew could change hismind.
The second the door closed behind him, Drew dropped his calm mask and stood up to pace, more agitated than he’d been in a long time. Drew wasn’t angry at Peter, though. Far from it. He was angry athimself.
Angry because, one stupid summer half a lifetime ago, his stubborn heart had decided his straight best friend was the only man forhim.
Angry because, despite all the years since then, all the men he’d dated, and the men he’d slept with, he’d never found anyone who made him feel half as strong and vital and necessary, even in thethroes of orgasm,as Sebastian did while they were playing video games on hiscouch.
Angry because loving Bas was beyond logic and out of his control, leading him to whisper drunken truths that should never have seen the light of day and fucked up the best friendship he’d everhad.
Angry because, despite all of that, he knew he wouldn’t be following up with Mark from The Station, no matter how hot and successful and perfect he was, because he wasn’t SebastianSeaver.
Leaning his head against the cold glass of the window, Drew closed his eyes. There were days he would give anything to wake up and not have Bas be the first thing on his mind - the blue of his eyes, the tilt of his smile. Desperate times, like those first days after Bas and Amy had started dating, when he’d wanted to move somewhere, anywhere, and forcibly eject Bas from histhoughts.
But the practical part of him knew that whatever heartbreak he suffered was simply the opportunity cost for having Sebastian Seaver as his bestfriend.
Drew couldn’t recall a season of his life when Bas hadn’t fascinated and challenged and encouraged him on a fundamental level. Bas had sat next to him on the sofa when Drew came out to his parents, tutored him in math and computer science all through college, rescued him from dates gone bad, insisted that he couldn’t run Seaver Tech without Drew at his side. And in exchange, Drew had been his confidant, his mouthpiece, the Alfred to his Batman, always making sure that Bas had what he needed while he focused on hiswork.
Every day of their lives, Bas and his crazy genius brain had made Drew think bigger, dream bigger. And now, thirty-something years after they’d first played together as babies, Sebastian Seaver had burrowed into Drew’s skin, changed his goddamnDNA.
He wasn’t sure how to move on fromthat.
He wasn’t sure he wantedto.
Drew’s problem wasn’t finding the right someone to fall in love with; it was that he’d already fallen for theperfect person- and he kept falling, over and over and overagain.
He turned and leaned against the window, back to the clouds, and ran a hand through his short hair, fully aware that it would flop neatly back into place as though it had never been rumpled. Inconstancy had never been Drew’sproblem.
A knock on the door startled him, and he glanced guiltily at the untouched reports on hisdesk.
Christ. He was taking navel-gazing to a whole newlevel.
“Come in, Peter,” he called, sitting down onceagain.
But when the door opened, it wasn’t Peter’s head thatappeared.
“I snuck past when Peter wasn’t looking. Got a sec?” Cam asked, light blue eyesserious.
