“Are you there?” Sebastian asked instead.
“Yes.” He could barely hear himself.
“Say goodbye or something.”
“Goodbye, Sebastian.”
“See you soon.” Sebastian ended the call, but Rhys was ready for the beeping alert this time. He stared at the screen, frowning at the generic wallpaper before the device went black. He remembered in Mallardsville, before he’d publicly humiliated Sebastian’s bitch of an ex-wife in such grand form that she’d never dare to show her face in the state again…he remembered standing shoulder to shoulder with his brother, the picture of them as kids flashing across Sebastian’s screen.
How had his brother maintained so much fondness, so much affection for him, while simultaneously thinking Rhys was a conniving and manipulative piece of shit? The duality of his brother’s feelings, as well as the dichotomy of his own actions, didn’t always make sense. Rhys knew he didn’t deserve kindness from Sebastian. He didn’t deserve another chance.
He’d never asked for one and he’d never wanted one. He’d been a true martyr, bearing the responsibilities of the family expectations with as much grace as he could muster. There had only been one time when Rhys fought against his father, and he’d been struck down in such a spectacular fashion, he knew better than to ever try again.
A text came through his phone, undoubtedly from Sebastian with the address of the restaurant. Rhys forced himself out of bed and into the bathroom, glaring at the copper sink as he stripped down to shower. He turned the water up marginally warmer than normal, fretting about the impending meal. Rhys couldn’t decide whether he wanted Callahan to be there or not, and he surely didn’t know how he would react either way.
Rhys knew—heknew—that he owed Callahan far more of an explanation than he’d ever be able to give, but he also didn’t know if Callahan wanted to hear it. He didn’t know if that conversation would be for Callahan or for him, and until he made sense of it, he tucked the idea of it into a dark, locked box in the deepest corner of his brain. Callahan was a problem…no. Callahan was a scar that Rhys would wear for the rest of his life.
That much he did know.
By the time he’d finished washing up and drying off, Rhys decided he hoped Callahan wasn’t there. He felt very off his game in Myers Bluff, and he wasn’t sure he was up to verbally sparring with the first man he’d ever truly loved. And if Rhys was being honest, he didn’t want to see Jace Dare, either.
Jealousy was a disgusting and useless feeling, and Rhys loathed it.
With that in mind, he picked his clothes with care. Dark green trousers, cuffed at the ankle, with a white button up and brown loafers. He rolled the sleeves of his shirt up toward his elbows, shaking them out and giving himself a quick check in the mirror. He looked as casual as he ever did, and Rhys threaded a matching brown belt through the loops of his pants. He adjusted the buckle so it lay centered over his fly, then stepped back to get the full view of himself.
It would do.
Rhys pulled his phone off the charger and keyed open the app to get a car. He’d brought his Audi down from Mallardsville when he moved, but he really did hate driving. Being chauffeured was a luxury he’d grown accustomed to growing up and one he was reluctant to shake as an adult.
And he didn’t need to. He was far past the age of his father being able to do something petty like cut him off. Rhyswasdedicated to the idea of letting the family name die with him and Sebastian. He’d done enough. Rhys had sacrificed enough. Sometimes, he thought giving up on the idea of that kind of life was akin to letting his father win. He hated the idea of giving up so much for nothing, but it hadn’t been for nothing, had it? Callahan was happy. Sebastian was happy.
And Rhys?
He was…alive.
Rhys locked the door to the condo behind him and rode the elevator down to the street level. He stepped into the lobby just as the black town car pulled up outside, and he walked right to it. The driver reached the back door as soon as Rhys’s shoe hit the sidewalk. He slid into the back seat and let out a breath when the door closed behind him.
The back seat of a town car was a safe place. A familiar place. He patted his pockets to check for his phone and his money clip as the car pulled away from the curb. The restaurant Sebastian had picked for brunch was less than a ten minute drive away, and Rhys found himself standing out front, glaring up at the sign which had deliberately been designed to mock a Parisian cafe.
There was a hostess stand out front, and a blonde woman perched behind it with her hair in a sleek ponytail.
“Welcome to La Creperie,” she greeted with an artificially white smile. “Table for one?”
Rhys chortled and rolled his eyes. “I’m meeting friends.”
Even as he said it, knowing it was true, the words felt like a lie. Rhys didn’t have friends. He had his brother, and his brother’s boyfriend, and an ex-boyfriend who probably wouldn’t piss on him if he was on fire.
“Are you Sebastian’s brother?” she asked, tilting her head to the side. It was like something clicked when he’d spoken and dollar signs flashed behind her eyes. She had obviously watched him step out of the town car, and her stare lingered on the Rolex around his exposed wrist.
“He said they’d be on the patio.” He gave her a tight smile. “I’m sure I can find my way.”
Another day, another time, Rhys would have let her flirt. He would have let her think she had a chance. But the call with his father had him tired. Sebastian’s honesty had him feeling cagey. Maybe it was that he still hadn’t adjusted to life in Myers Bluff. He was at the point where he’d been there long enough he needed to either admit it was a vacation and go home, or recommit to the idea of a new life. The salt air of the beach city was doing funny things to his brain.
Rhys weaved his way through the restaurant until he reached the patio. It was easy to spot his brother because Remington sat a head above everyone else. That was why he was almost through the crowd when he realized there were three people at the table, not just the two he’d been expecting.
But Callahan wasn’t the unexpected third.
It was Jace Dare.
