“I think that’s an understatement. But he blackballed her with the papers in the state and managed to delete the pictures, too.”
“How did he manage that?”
“He deleted them off her phone while she was asleep,” Sebastian said.
“While she…” He watched realization dawn across Remington’s face. “Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“Alright. What is the problem then?”
Remington was being far too gracious, he thought, considering how childish and ridiculous the whole thing sounded when he said it out loud.
“The timing is wrong for me to have gotten her pregnant,” he said.
“So it’s your brother’s?”
“It can’t be.”
Remington looked at the wall, like he could see through it. “So you’re setting her up to say something about Rhys, not you.”
“I’m not,” he corrected quickly. “He is. It’s his plan.”
“He has a flair for the dramatic.”
“Oldest child.” Sebastian gave a half-shrug and exhaled loudly, his cheeks puffing with air. “I’m done, though.”
“Done?”
“With this life.” Sebastian shook his head and forced himself to stare at his reflection in the mirror in front of him. He didn’t like the man he saw, and it must have showed on his face because Remington shoved himself off the bathroom door and came to stand beside him.
Sebastian shifted his stare, giving Remington’s reflection a lingering onceover. Tears pricked against his eyelids. Sebastian had never felt more undeserving than he did in that moment. His big brother had taken him away from his life in the pursuit of a childish game, but worse than that, he’d involved Remington.
He didn’t deserve the man standing beside him, and he didn’t know why Remington had allowed himself to be dragged up to Mallardsville for the whole circus in the first place.
“This life has made you the man you are,” Remington said gently, tangling their fingers together.
“I don’t like the man I am.”
“Neither do I,” Remington said. “I love him.”
“What?” Sebastian paled, but his grip on Remington’s hand tightened. “You what?”
Tiny lines creased around Remington’s eyes when he smiled, meeting Sebastian’s stare in the mirror. “I love you, and I’ve let you down.”
“How?” Sebastian turned, taking Remington with him and looking up at the other man, who clearly had a head injury of some sort.
“I think love makes people better than they are on their own,” Remington explained. “And you make me better. You’ve given me a safe place to learn about myself and the kind of man I want to be.”
“And what kind of man is that?” he rasped.
“The kind you need,” Remington said.
“I don’t deserve this,” he whispered.
“I respectfully disagree.” Remington traced the tips of his fingers over Sebastian’s cheekbone. “You deserve it more than most.”
“How do you figure?”
