Page 122 of A Cold Hard Truth

Sebastian is a Budding Philanthropist (again)

“Callahan isn’t going to like this.” Sebastian unlocked the door to his condo and stepped inside, making room for his boyfriend…and his brother…to follow him in.

“It’s not about him,” Remington reminded. “This was a decision you made for yourself.”

“It was kind of for me,” Rhys interjected.

“It was for him.”

“It was for me,” Sebastian confirmed, “because you’re my brother and I want the best for you.”

Rhys looked around the condo. “And this is the best?”

“You can stay in Jace’s old room,” Sebastian suggested. “With Remington, if you’d rather.”

“He cannot,” Remington interrupted.

“Speaking of. When are you moving out of here again?”

“I don’t know,” Sebastian said, daring a glance at Remington.

The whole idea was entirely half-cocked and ridiculous.

It was perfect.

“We haven’t talked about it,” Sebastian said. “Obviously. This all sort of just came up on the fly.”

“Well.” Rhys gave the living room a perfunctory onceover and disappeared down the hallway, no doubt to inspect the rest of the condo.

Sebastian watched him go, then turned to Remington, walking to him and wrapping him in a hug. He flattened his cheek against Remington’s chest and sighed, letting his eyes close after Remington returned the embrace.

“Are you sure about this?” Sebastian asked.

“I’m sure about you.”

“That’s not the same thing.”

“It’s exactly the same,” Remington protested, kissing the top of his head. “It was your idea, and I’m sure about you.”

“I meant are you sure about us moving in together?”

Sebastian didn’t know what had come over him when they were in the kitchen of the St. George estate, but Rhys had looked so despondent. It was like Sebastian had spent his entire life observing his brother through rose-colored glasses, only to take them off and find out Rhys wasn’t anything like Sebastian had thought.

Rhys would always be his older brother, and there would always be some degree of hero worship there, but Sebastian was starting to see the cracks in the carefully maintained facade that his brother had spent his whole life curating.

“I’m sure about you,” Remington said again, pulling Sebastian back enough to lean down and capture his mouth in a blistering kiss.

Remington kissed him like he meant it. He kissed like he was sure of it, and Sebastian raised onto his toes to make himself more accessible. In his pants, his cock pulsed against his thigh, and a small groan tumbled out of his mouth.

“A copper sink?” Sebastian vaguely registered his brother's voice in the distance. “That’s a choice. Oh, God. Get a room.”

Remington kissed him a second longer, then ended the kiss with a gentle peck against the corner of his mouth. His stare directed over Sebastian’s head toward Rhys.

“It’s his condo,” Remington said.

“For now.”

“It’ll always be mine.” Sebastian turned, keeping his body aligned with Remington’s. “I’m just renting it to you.”