Page 63 of A Matter of Fact

“Are you my boyfriend?”

Rhys traced his finger up the knobs of Beckett’s spine until he reached his neck. The answer to that question was a loud and resounding,yes, please, but the words caught in his throat. They were scary words, honestly terrifying, because Beckett was different. Rhys knew it, and he got the feeling Beckett knew it too.

“Rhys?” Beckett asked, his voice muffled by Rhys’s body.

“Yes,” he said quickly, before the moment escaped. His heart skipped. “Yes, I’m your boyfriend.”

Beckett smiled and slid upward, his chin resting on Rhys’s chest. He looked gorgeous like this, all mussed from sleep and sex. Rhys touched his face, a swipe of his thumb across Beckett’s cheekbone, and Beckett leaned into his hand, lashes fluttering as his eyes closed.

“I like that.”

“Does this mean I can lavish you with gifts and money now?” he asked, even though he found he didn’t really mean it.

Beckett opened one eye, read his face, and huffed a quiet laugh. “Sometimes, maybe.”

“That’s more of a concession than I expected.” Rhys slid his arms around Beckett’s waist and hauled him over so he straddled Rhys’s thighs.

“I’m lust drunk.”

“Is that what it is?” he murmured.

“Something like it.”

“I won’t spend money on you if you don’t want me to,” he promised. “At least, not often and not a lot.”

Beckett braced himself, steepling his fingers on Rhys’s bare stomach and straightening his back. He finally opened his eyes and he stared down at Rhys in a way that had Rhys wanting to look anywhere else. Beckett was well and truly lookingathim, and what a terrifying thing to be so seen.

“What were you like before?” Beckett asked. “With the others?”

“Which others?”

“Callahan,” Beckett said, “Ashley. Whoever came in between.”

Rhys sighed.

“I was foolish with Callahan. Too young and optimistic. I thought I was untouchable.” He dragged his tongue across the front of his teeth. “Callahan is in the past. Ashley is in the past. She only wanted my money, anyway. Wanted my name.”

“And what did you want?” Beckett flexed the tips of his fingers against Rhys’s muscles.

“A distraction.”

“And what do you want now?”

“It’s a little early for that, I think,” he said.

“Disagree.”

“I want you,” Rhys answered, no thought necessary. He circled his fingers around Beckett’s wrists and pulled his hands out from under him. Beckett fell forward, his chest landing against Rhys’s with a soft slap of skin. “I want you, and I don’t know what that means or what it looks like, but it’s all I know.”

Rhys didn’t know what it meant because it had been a lifetime since he had a partner who mattered to him. He didn’t know what it looked like because, according to the very stern words from his father, he was supposed to relocate himself back to Mallardsville in less than a day. Rhys knew he wasn’t going to do that, which was yet another decision leaving his future as one big unknown.

There was one other thing he knew, he realized. And that was Beckett wouldn’t care if Rhys lost everything over his refusal to toe the family line any longer. If anything, it would probably be a relief for him if Rhys were to lose everything. Something about that poked in the back of his brain in an unsettling way. Everyone else had wanted him for his money and his name, and Beckett wanted him in spite of it. But he wouldn’t be who he was without those things, so maybe Beckett’s refusal to accept those parts of him was somehow just as bad as being used for those things in the first place. He wasn’t sure, but Beckett’s hot mouth against his lips was enough to distract him from the thought.

“I wish we could stay here,” Beckett whispered against his lips.

Rhys pulled his body closer. “We can.”

“I work tomorrow.”