Page 118 of A Cold Hard Truth

“I’m a disaster,” he said with a weak laugh, still unsure of why someone like Remington would want him. “You deserve someone better than me.

“You’re a dream.” Remington rolled onto his side. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, and I didn’t even know until I met you.”

“Stop,” he protested, even though he didn’t mean it.

“I’m serious,” Remington went on. “I grew up hiding in books because they were safer than people, but I’ve always felt like I was a secondary character in my own life. That’s a horrible thing to say, but it’s true.”

Sebastian snorted. “I know the feeling.”

“But with you, I’m not. I’m more.”

“I don’t feel like I’m more,” he countered. “But when you’re here, I feel like maybe one day I could be.”

Chapter Thirty-Three

Remington Makes an Offer

Remington woke up in an unfamiliar bed with a barely familiar body wrapped around him like an octopus. Sebastian’s hold on him was tight, and Remington carefully untangled himself, making as little noise as possible. His phone was on the last bit of battery, so he texted Jace to let him know he’d be back in town later that day, then he pulled on his clothes and slipped out of the room.

He traced his steps back to the entryway and guessed his way to the kitchen, where he found Rhys, dressed in his clothes from the night before. His vest was off and the top buttons of his shirt were loose, but he still wore his slacks. The cufflinks were gone, Remington noted, the sleeves of Rhys’s shirt instead rolled up to expose the golden hair on his forearms. Rhys leaned against one of the long granite countertops, an espresso cup in his hand and a darkening bruise below his eye.

“You’re up early,” Rhys commented, not looking up from whatever he was reading on his phone.

“Habit.”

“Maybe you can instill that sort of work ethic in my brother.”

“Your brother is fine how he is,” Remington countered, climbing onto one of the many bar stools that lined the breakfast bar. “Do you have coffee?”

Rhys’s attention flicked away from his phone to Remington, then he turned and fiddled with a fancy machine on the counter. The end result was a cup of black drip coffee, which Remington took with a quiet thanks.

“Sebastian is far fromfine,” Rhys said. “But he will be.”

Remington licked his lips and took a drink of his coffee. “What the hell happened last night?”

“I had a change of heart,” Rhys murmured, drinking what was left in his cup like it was an actual shot. He tossed his phone onto the counter and made himself another espresso.

“And?”

“I took care of the situation while you two had your little heart to heart in the men’s room.”

“Why couldn’t you have done that in the first place?” Remington asked. “Why did you need to get Sebastian involved?”

“It involved him. Daniella was his wife, not mine.”

“Your drama. Your plan.”

“We’ll have to agree to disagree.” Rhys frowned and fidgeted with the sleeve of his shirt.

Remington narrowed his eyes, giving Rhys a careful onceover, trying to get a read on the other man. If he watched carefully, he did see hints of Sebastian in Rhys, but in ways neither of them would want to admit. Rhys was brash and arrogant, but only when people were watching. It was almost like Rhys put on a show, and Remington wondered what the man was like behind closed doors when he wasn’ton.

“You know Sebastian worships you, right?” Remington asked, drawing a bemused look from Rhys.

“He loathes me.”

“That’s a strong word.”

Rhys rolled his eyes. “Give me a better one then.”