Page 64 of A Cold Hard Truth

“Jace isn’t like Daniella,” Callahan said.

“I know.”

“And I’m not like you.”

Sebastian took a step back and frowned, pressing a hand against his chest. Callahan’s comment was offhand and probably meant in jest, but the words felt like barbs against him, and he physically recoiled.

“Wow. Okay,” he murmured, looking away from Callahan and down the hallway.

“That’s not how I meant it,” Callahan tried to backpedal.

“I think it’s exactly how you meant it,” he said. “You’re right, Callahan. You and I aren’t the same. You’ve had everything in life handed to you.”

“And you haven’t?” Callahan stood up, his arms out at his sides.

“I’ve had to fight Rhys for everything I have, and he still outdoes me in everything.”

“You’re a better man than him.”

“And what do I have to show for it?” Sebastian’s voice grew louder with every word. “Myex-wife is inhisbed, Callahan. I can’t even do divorce right.”

He punctuated his sentence with a self-deprecating laugh, turning away from Callahan again and walking into the kitchen. He grabbed a clean glass and stalked into the living room, pouring the rest of Callahan’s wine into it and swallowing it back in one go.

Potential unspoken punishments be damned.

“Sebastian.” Callahan sighed.

Sebastian looked down at his watch. It was quarter to ten. “You should go. Remington will be here soon.”

“Don’t be mad at me,” Callahan said, voice laced with unspoken apology.

“I’ll see you Sunday for brunch,” he said. “Maybe.”

“Maybe? Jace will be disappointed.”

“Jace will live.”

Callahan made an unhappy noise, but let himself out without much fuss, leaving Sebastian alone with an empty glass and a heavy heart. In his chest, he knew Callahan hadn’t meant the comment the way it had sounded, but that didn’t change the way it made him feel. It didn’t change the fact he’d taken his first drink since Wednesday as a result of it either.

He really needed to get thicker skin.

Or something.

Sebastian didn’t want to think about Callahan, though, or his brother, or his ex-wife, or his brother fucking his ex-wife. He wanted to think about Remington.

Remington and…

Sebastian carried his and Callahan’s wine glasses into the kitchen, washing them and leaving them to dry before throwing the empty bottle into the trash. With still more than ten minutes until ten, Sebastian paced his house, stopping in the bathroom to give himself a critical onceover in the mirror.

He was an attractive man, and he would be even if he didn’t have money. Better than average, even though he didn’t see anything remarkable about his features. He raised the hem of his shirt and looked at his stomach. His skin was bronzed and smooth, but he lacked muscle definition. That probably wouldn’t be an issue for long, though, with Remington having him at the gym twice a week.

Sebastian traced the tips of his fingers across the waistband of his pants, wondering what it would be like if his fingers were replaced with Remington’s. Sure they’d kissed and touched a little. They’d come together, but they’d never really set to learning or exploring each other’s bodies. That was one of Sebastian’s favorite parts of being with a new person.

He loved the firsts.

Sebastian dropped the hem of his shirt and smoothed it flat, then sat on the edge of his bed and stared out the window until his watch ticked over to 10:00 and Remington knocked. Sebastian stood up and opened the door, relief coursing through him when his stare landed on Remington’s tall and lithe frame. He stepped aside to let the other man in, closing the door and locking it.

“Hi,” he blurted, sounding far too much like an over-eager teenage girl for his liking.