“Wrong.” Jace made a game show buzzer sound. “You need a friend and you need to talk. I’ll be there in half an hour and I’m bringing food.”
“Alright,” Remington agreed, a sense of relief rolling over him and washing away a fear he didn’t even know he’d been feeling.
“You know it’s okay to ask for help, right?” Jace asked, before continuing on, “Never mind. Don’t answer that. You clearly don’t. You’re so much like him and you don’t even see it. Anyway, see you soon.”
The call disconnected, four loud beeps in his ear. He tossed his phone onto the table, took off his glasses, and waited for help to arrive.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Sebastian Came First
“I don’t understand why I couldn’t have done this from home.” Sebastian traced a line across the edge of the dining room table and frowned at the wood grain.
It had been five days since Rhys had stolen him away from his home. Five days since he’d gone willingly enough, rather, but he tried to ignore that part. He hated that he’d gone. He hated that he hadn’t heard from Remington, but it had been too many days of silence to call him. Sebastian would have to wait until he got done with Daniella and made it back to Myers Bluff to deal with the fallout from that.At least his brother had kept him busy, carting him around to the office, out to eat, out to the stables. The things they’d enjoyed together as children had turned into the sentence he had to serve while he waited to get on with the rest of his life.
He’d never had much of a schedule on the weekend and every day he woke up wishing he had one. Wishing there was something he could cling to that would offer him some semblance of comfort and normalcy. Even going back into the messages on his phone and reading the first exchanges he shared with Remington offered little help. The words only served to make him lonelier.
“Your attorney is here,” Rhys answered, tapping the top of his soft boiled egg with the back of his spoon.
Sebastian eyed him over the rim of his coffee mug, taking a drink to hold him over while he wanted for their maid to come around with the vodka and orange juice he’d asked for in lieu of pancakes.
It seemed like a fair substitute.
“Daniella is here,” Rhys continued.
“I do wonder about that.” Sebastian set down his coffee. “Since she doesn’t live here and I can’t imagine money is the only motivator.”
At least, he hoped it wasn’t.
Rhys’s mouth tipped down into an even frownier frown than normal. “She’s been spending time with Ashley.”
“Oh.” Sebastian laughed. “That’s rich. At least now I know why you fucked her.”
“And why is that?”
“To get back at your ex-fiancé.”
The maid quietly entered the formal dining room, leaving a tray with a decanter and a carafe in front of Sebastian before making her way out through another door. Sebastian poured himself a drink, heavy on the vodka, with a splash of orange juice for color.
“That would imply I care about her in the least,” Rhys countered, picking at his egg.
“Don’t you? Didn’t you?” Sebastian tilted his head to the side, confusion visible on his face. He didn’t understand how Rhys could be so unaffected at the demise of his relationship with Ashley. Even though he’d clearly never intended to truly marry her, he had to have held some kind of affection for her.
For as sour as his relationship with Daniella had gone, Sebastian had really loved her. He’d hoped that she could be an answer when so much of his life was a question. But he realized, after the fact, it wasn’t fair for him to expect that of her or of anyone. And for as much as he wanted Remington to be the answer, Sebastian didn’t want to make the same mistakes over again.
“My life is a series of obligations, Sebastian,” his brother answered, dropping his spoon onto the plate. He yanked his napkin off his lap and crumpled it, throwing it on the table beside his coffee mug.
“So is mine.”
“You don’t even know the half of it,” Rhys snapped, sucking in a sharp breath. “You and I are not the same.”
“Thank God for that,” he muttered.
Rhys made a disgusted face and shook his head, looking away from Sebastian while he made quick work of his screwdriver.
“Your wife was trying to shop pictures of you with a hot pink cock up your ass, Sebastian,” Rhys finally said with a sigh. He leaned back in his chair and took a drink of his coffee like he’d told Sebastian it was meant to rain later.
“Shewhat?” he choked.
