“I’m a horrible brother.”
“You’re not,” Beckett assured him, eyeing his own wine. “Rhys loves you a lot.”
“And he loves you,” Sebastian said. “And you love him, and I just wanted to be sure. I shouldn’t have said the things I said to you.”
Beckett screwed his eyes shut. He’d somehow known the conversation in the kitchen with Sebastian had been a test, and it was easy for him to set that all aside. What mattered the most was that Rhysdidlove him. And it was such a painstakingly new revelation. They’d not even had time to enjoy what that meant for them, how it would change things between them.
“When will he be back?” Beckett asked.
“I don’t know.” Sebastian sighed. “I need to give him a couple days to sort things out at home, and then I’ll try to get in touch with him.”
A couple days felt like a lifetime, and that was just the start of it.
“And I can’t call him,” Beckett repeated Sebastian’s statement from earlier.
“The further off our father’s radar you are, the better.”
“When you…when you talk to him, will you tell him that I…I love him?”
“He knows,” Sebastian said.
“But will you?”
“Of course. Yes.” Sebastian finished off the rest of the wine Remington had poured him. He was an A+ drinker; Beckett had to give him that. But then again, Rhys knew how to put back a bottle, too.
“You can stay here I assume, if you want to,” Sebastian said, more to himself than to Beckett.
“I have an apartment,” he said, wanting to be offended, but falling short.
“I know. It’s just…I know my brother would like…” Again, Sebastian trailed off.
Beckett pressed the pads of his fingers against his closed eyelids until he saw colors and stars. This couldn’t be happening. This entire thing was so far out of the realm of possibility. In what reality had he met someone like Rhys, someone so far out of his league socially that something like this could even happen? His father just came to town and demanded he return home? And like that, Rhys was gone. The way that family was tangled up with each other and money, and it was no wonder to him that Rhys had tried to move away from it all.
“I have plants,” Beckett blurted, like he was talking about human children or something that needed constant care. He grimaced and stared down at his lap. “Maybe some nights.”
“I’ll get you a key,” Sebastian said.
“And what?” Beckett asked. “We’re just supposed to sit here and wait for Rhys to figure out whatever he needs to figure out so our lives can go back to normal?”
A new feeling bubbled up inside of him. He’d been feeling despondent and helpless, like he was out of his depth just because he had less money and less class than the people in the room with him, but that was far from the case. Beckett found it impossible to believe that he was meant to just bide his time and twiddle his thumbs andwait.
“He’ll figure something out,” Sebastian said.
“And you’re fine with that?” Beckett stood, gesturing wildly with his hands, finally finding a place to get the anxious feelings out. “You were just over there muttering about how much he’s done for you and you’re content to let it continue?”
“He has a point,” Remington said gently, stroking fingers down Sebastian’s arm.
“You would just let him carry on being the one who has to bear the brunt of whatever the fuck is going down?” Beckett raised his voice, fury growing in his belly.
“I don’t know what to do!” Sebastian jerked away from Remington’s careful touch, red-ringed eyes narrowed at Beckett.
“You can start with calming down.” Remington’s suggestion was crystal clear, and Sebastian shifted, his jaw visibly clenched.
Beckett sighed and went into the living room. He needed space and he needed to think. He needed to understand, but he was fairly sure there would be no clarity in his immediate future. He listened to Remington and Sebastian talk to each other in hushed voices, and then shoes clacked across the floor, coming to a stop behind him.
“Beckett.”
It was Remington, which was the only thing in the world that made any sense in that moment. Of course it was Remington.
