Remington rolled his eyes. “You aren’t.”
“I am,” he protested. “But with you, I feel like that’s okay.”
“I love you for the ways you are and the ways you will be, not the ways you wish you were,” Remington said, confirming Sebastian’s earlier thoughts. Sebastian leaned against Remington, taking the support that he’d so willingly offered from the very first day.
“Well,” he said with a smile, “that’s good news because I don’t know how else to be.”
Remington pulled two plates out of the cabinet and scooped some of the vegetables out before tearing chunks of French Bread apart and dropping those down as well. He handed them both to Sebastian and ushered him back to the table.
“I have to go back to work tomorrow,” Remington said after they’d each taken a few bites. “But you don’t.”
“I do,” he protested, even though it wasn’t true. He didn’t mean anything to his company. He was replaceable and irrelevant, and they all knew it.
Remington arched a brow.
“I don’t,” he corrected.
“Resign,” Remington said. “Find something that makes you happy instead and do that.”
“I don’t even know what that would look like,” he admitted. “It’s always something I’ve done for other people, not myself.”
“You have time.” Remington took another drink of his wine and cocked his head to the side. “You know, you don’t even have to get another job.”
“What would I do? I would waste away of boredom. I would drink myself to death.”
“You’ll do no such thing,” Remington reprimanded.
“I know.” He looked away, appropriately chastised.
“Philanthropy,” Remington suggested a few bites later.
“Pardon?”
“Philanthropy,” Remington said again. “You clearly have an eye for where the need exists.”
“That donation was for you,” he protested. “Because you needed it.”
“Other people need them too. That’s the whole point of philanthropy. And can you really think of a better use for the money that you don’t even want?”
“I don’tnotwant the money, Rem. I like the money,” he said.
“And you have more than you’ll ever need.” Remington pushed his plate toward the center of the table and finished his wine. “It’s just something to think about. Now put the plates in the sink and meet me in the bedroom.”
Remington stood and brushed past him, with straight shoulders and a determined look that renewed the erection between Sebastian’s legs. He made quick work of getting the dishes into the sink, washing them because he had a suspicion he would have to do it later if he didn’t get it done. He finished his wine, added those glasses to the dryer rack and chased after Remington, unafraid of whatever promises the night would hold.
Epilogue
Remington
“Do you ever regret moving into my apartment?” Remington leaned against the wall opposite the bathroom door and watched Sebastian fuss with his hair in the mirror.
“Why would I regret that?”
Remington glanced down the hallway to the other end of the apartment. “Your place was bigger.”
“Your place has a spare room.”
“Our place.” Remington pushed off the wall and stepped across the hall, filling the doorway.
