Page 56 of A Matter of Fact

“Alright,” he conceded, sliding down the wall until his ass hit the ground. “Saturday at twelve.”

CHAPTERSEVENTEEN

RHYS FORGETS TO BREATHE

Sebastian had been more than willing to let Rhys borrow some of his clothes for Beckett, but he’d refused to hand over the hangers.

“I want to meet him,” Sebastian had said.

Rhys knew Beckett wouldn’t just let himbuynew clothes foronedate, so he didn’t have a choice. That was how he found himself knocking on Sebastian and Remington’s door, with an anxious Beckett by his side at twelve-fifteen on a Saturday afternoon.

“What if he doesn’t like me?” Beckett asked.

“What’s not to like?” he asked, and he meant it. He’d yet to find a single thing about Beckett he didn’t like, save for the fact that Beckett was such a stickler about his money.

The door swung open, revealing Sebastian smiling like a fool.

“Hey there, brother,” he greeted. He was wearing black lounge pants and a plain undershirt. He looked utterly casual. Comfortable. At peace. Remington stepped up behind him, glasses balanced on the bridge of his nose and hair slightly askew.

“Rhys,” he said, a bit more terse than his brother.

“Remington.” Rhys smiled, smoothing a hand down the front of his shirt. "Sebastian said you had a deadline at work. Not today?”

“Home for lunch,” Remington murmured, sliding a hand around Sebastian’s waist. Sebastian’s cheeks were already flushed, but they turned darker, and Rhys rolled his eyes and cleared his throat.

“That’s lovely. We’re on a tight schedule, so if you don’t mind.” He reached down without thought and took Beckett’s hand and pushed past his brother and into the apartment. Beckett’s palm was clammy, but he threaded his fingers around Rhys’s and held on tight. Rhys looked down at their joined hands, and up at Beckett who was staring right at him.

It was the first time they’d held hands.

“Oh,” Beckett said softly.

“Is this okay?”

“Yeah.” Beckett scrunched his nose and smiled. “Very okay.”

“Where are you going that he needs borrowed clothes?” Sebastian asked, now in front of them and Remington out of sight.

“It’s a surprise,” Rhys drawled. “He just needs a suit, nothing fancy.”

“You couldn’t have just bought him one? I mean, if money was an issue?”

“I told him no,” Beckett answered, squaring his shoulders.

Sebastian gave Beckett a slow onceover that was so intense, even Rhys felt the weight of it.

“I imagine you did.” Sebastian smirked, stare flickering toward Rhys before he turned and headed down a short hallway. “Come on, then.”

Rhys and Beckett followed Sebastian down the hall to the bedroom, and Rhys tried to not scowl at the size and the decoration and the utter simplicity of the space, but he apparently failed.

“Rhys, stop,” Sebastian warned.

“What?”

“I know that face.”

Beckett glanced up at him. “You hate it.”

“It’s simple,” he explained.