Seb followed Oliver through the house.
“Did he say what he wanted?” he asked.
“He asked to see your friend. That’s all he said.”
Seb gritted his teeth. His friend. His boyfriend, maybe. The man who fucked his mouth in his parents’ guest room. Friends didn’t do that.
He could go find his dad. Martin would be in the shower. Seb had time to intervene.
“Oh for goodness’s sake, Jason, put it down before you hurt yourself!” Parker’s voice snagged his attention as they entered the house’s formal living room.
Jason stood at the table by the window, his hands wrapped around Seb’s gift. His face was pinched like he was passing a kidney stone while he tried to lift it.
“Put it down!” Seb said.
“I’ve got it,” Jason said.
“Put it the fuck down!” Seb strode across the room in three big steps. He’d punch the asshole, only Jason would drop the box and it would shatter.
Fortunately, his expression was enough for Jason to see he meant business. He paled and stepped aside after he set the box back down gently.
By the time Seb had relocated the gift where Parker wanted it, and then helped her retie bows on a few dozen chairs in the garden, and then moved the gift again because the original table had been a better idea after all, and then found a garbage bag after one of Parker’s golden retrievers escaped from the room in the basement where they were stashed and collided with a caterer carrying a tray of glasses, and then...
By the time Seb was ready to go find his father and ask him what the hell he wanted with Martin, Martin was standing in the living room. He wore Penny’s suit, although he’d gone for a pale blue shirt instead of the white one. Seb looked forward to peeling him out of it later.
“You look awesome.” He kissed Martin in greeting, but Martin barely returned it. When he pulled away, Martin was staring dazedly over Seb’s shoulder. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Come on,” he said. “I have to get changed.”
Seb took his hand and pulled him gently down the hall. He’d brought his things down to the guest room earlier in the morning while Martin was getting dressed for their impromptu bike ride.
Martin floated after him silently. He didn’t react when Seb closed the door, or as he pulled the henley he’d worn outside over his head.
“Okay, seriously.” Seb grabbed his clean shirt from the closet. “You’re making me nervous. What happened?”
“What happened?” Martin ran a hand over his hair, making it swirl in fluffy patterns off his scalp.
“Did my dad...” Seb’s pulse kicked up a few notches. Philip was ferocious, a lion in his home. But he wouldn’t say anything outright offensive to Martin. Would he? “What did my dad want?”
“It’s fine.” Martin waved him away. The subtle vibration coming off of him didn’t stop, though. “He was in his office. Invited me in. Asked about my book again. He—”
“What?”
“I think he offered me a job?”
* * *
Martin knocked gently on the doorframe. Philip Stevenson sat with his back to him in a heavy leather chair behind a heavier wooden desk.
“Yes?” He smiled as he turned around in his seat. “Oh good. Oliver found you. Come in!”
The room was like the library: wall-to-wall bookshelves filled with a veritable collection of European literature.
“Did you have a good ride? Oliver said you went around the college.”
“Yes, it was very nice, thank you.”
