There were few things Remington believed in for certain.
He believed, though, that he had control over his life. At least to some degree. He’d realized early in his life that he wasn’t like the other kids he’d grown up with. He didn’t want the same things as them and he didn’t aspire to the same goals. He wanted things that his money couldn’t buy him, and while his education had allowed him a lot of things other people would never attain, he felt he’d earned them.
At least as much as possible.
Remington had worked for the things he had. He’d strived to set himself apart from the Marston’s and the Rhys’s and the Callahan’s of his earlier years. And in doing so, he’d found a job he loved, a best friend he held in higher regard than all other, and a man whom he loved beyond measure.
A man whom he loved.
He loved.
Remington loved Sebastian.
He loved him for who he was and who he wanted to be. He loved Sebastian for the fearless way he reached for the thingshewanted. Even if Sebastian stumbled, he wasn’t afraid. He’d reached for Remington with open arms and more confidence and trust than Remington probably deserved. He’d given Remington more trust than anyone had before. And in their late nights and early mornings together, Remington had done the same.
The things they’d shared were special and irreplaceable.
They were important.
And Remington had been so caught up in his clouded expectations and the residual worries about social standards and obligations, he’d mis-stepped. Sebastian had put so much trust and faith in him. More than he’d felt he’d deserved, and he’d done wrong by Sebastian.
Sebastian didn’t want someone who wasn’t confident in his choices, and how was Remington, this man pacing on a Mallardsville street corner, the same man who’d made Sebastian a schedule and a to-do list to keep him on track? How was this man the same one who’d bent Sebastian over with so much confidence and spanked him? And fucked him?
Remington shivered at the memory, and knew if he didn’t kiss Sebastian before the end of the night, he would die. He needed to see Sebastian, and he needed to apologize. He needed to promise to be better, to do better. To be confident and deserving of the blank check Sebastian had written him.
He stalked back to the restaurant, unsure of what Rhys had dragged him into, but knowing either way, it was right.
Chapter Thirty
Sebastian Inspires Poetry
Sebastian felt like a coward, hiding in the bathroom waiting for his big brother to come collect him, but he didn’t know what else to do. His resolve finally crumbled, and he banged his head against the heavy wooden door of the bathroom stall. Sebastian dug his phone out of his pocket and called Remington.
It rang and rang and rang.
And then voicemail.
Sebastian cursed under his breath and disconnected the call, shoving his phone back into his pocket with a groan. Of course Remington wouldn’t answer the phone. Sebastian had basically ignored him for going on a week. He deserved to be ignored, and Remington deserved someone better than him. He was a mess. The trip home only solidified that.
He’d been coaxed out of town to follow one of his brother’s harebrained plans for revenge and drama, which he’d never understood the need for. Rhys had seemingly been born with a flair for the dramatic that had skipped over Sebastian completely. He was thankful for it, but promised himself if he got out of this situation with whatever his brother’s desired intent was, he would cut the cord.
Sebastian had been open about the way he envied how Callahan was able to cut himself free from the expectations that had been hammered into them as kids. He’d often wanted to do the same, even though at first, he didn’t quite have the resolve. But he found it. When this was done, he’d go to his attorneys in the morning, deal with cutting Daniella’s alimony out, and then tell Rhys they were done. Sebastian didn’t want to be a part of his games anymore.
He struggled enough to keep himself together at home, obviously thriving when he had Remington by his side, but Remington wouldn’t be there forever. In fact, Remington probably wouldn’t be there at all when he got back to Myers Bluff. He knew he’d have to answer to Jace for that, but that was a problem for next weekend Sebastian, not right now Sebastian.
The door to the bathroom opened, allowing the raucous noise and laughter of the party at the bar to filter in. Sebastian’s skin prickled, and then two shoes he recognized appeared beneath the bottom of the stall door.
A knock against the wooden door vibrated through Sebastian’s head and he stepped back, flipping the lock and letting the door fall open.
“I called you,” Sebastian murmured, letting his stare make its way from the tips of Remington’s sneakers up to the creases of his jeans and the slim cut lines of the red, short-sleeved button-up he wore. Remington looked nervous, but when he saw Sebastian, he adjusted his glasses and gave him a lopsided smile that had Sebastian’s heart cracking.
“You didn’t.”
“I know. I mean…” He closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Just now. I called you just now.”
“Why?” Remington asked.
“Because I needed you,” he admitted. Sebastian forced himself to look into Remington’s eyes, his resolve and posture nearly collapsing when Remington held out his arms and took a step into the stall.
