Page 72 of A Cold Hard Truth

“Is it a deal breaker?” he asked for the third time.

Remington sighed and took a small step closer. The space between them still felt like a canyon, but it was less.

“No,” Remington answered. “I don’t think so. I don’twantit to be.”

“Okay.” Sebastian let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “Okay, good.”

“You can’t do it again,” Remington said.

“Okay.”

“I’m serious. Not even anonymously.”

“Okay,” he said again, more emphatically. “No more donations.”

It was the truth. He didn’t need to mention that he wouldn’t make any more donations because he didn’t need to. The quarter mil had funded Remington’s department for the next five years.

Remington’s expression read like he wasn’t quite done with thinking about the donation, and Sebastian was certain it would come up again, but Remington took off his glasses and set them on the table. He took another step closer and asked, “So, what were you thinking about before?”

“Before when?” he croaked.

“When your eyes did that little flutter dance.”

Sebastian exhaled, his entire body prickling with gooseflesh even though he wasn’t cold.“I was thinking about your fingers.”

“What about them?” Remington asked.

“About how they felt inside of me.”

“Tell me.” Another step closer.

“Good,” he rasped.

“Just good? I’m sure there’s a better word for it.”

“You’re the books guy,” Sebastian managed.

“Did they feel respectable?” Remington asked, before smirking and shaking his head. “I don’t think anything we did last night was respectable.”

“Jesus.” Sebastian scrubbed a hand down his face. “How can you do this?”

“Do what?”

“It’s like you’re two different people. Glasses on and glasses off.”

“Am I?”

“You know,”—he laughed nervously—“most people feel braver with glasses on. Like a costume.”

“Courageous,” Remington suggested, and it surprised Sebastian to find the change didn’t offend him. But by then, Remington had reached him. They were close again. Remington was in his space, breathing his air. Sebastian could smell the coffee and sleep between their bodies.

“I feel courageous around you,” he whispered, looking down again. “Like I can do anything.”

“Can’t you?”

“Sometimes I wonder.” Sebastian closed his eyes, trying to stop his mind from wandering into the darkest places it went. Normally he only dared venture there when he was alone and at least a bottle of some kind of liquor into his day. He wasn’t supposed to have those thoughts before coffee. He wasn’t supposed to have them when he wasn’t alone.

“Maybe you’re the one with the costume,” Remington said softly. He tapped the bottom of Sebastian’s chin with the side of his finger, pulling Sebastian’s attention toward his face. “Braver when you get to take it off, though.”