Page 97 of A Matter of Fact

“You basically asked me…and I…” Even with the truth of it between them, Beckett struggled to put the words to it. Here he had the man of his dreams in the palm of his hand and he’d basically stopped him short of a marriage proposal. If he didn’t know better, he’d think he was delusional.

“You were right.” Rhys blinked up at the ceiling, his chest slick with sweat and his stomach spotted with cum. “There’s other things that have to happen first.”

Beckett laughed softly. “Are you mentally rearranging your to-do list over there?”

“Am I that obvious?”

“I don’t think so,” Beckett said. “I just know you that well, apparently.”

“Apparently,” Rhys mused.

“I don’t know if I’ve ever told you.” Beckett was ready to admit, even as his chest heaved with every breath. “But I love when you call me darling. You did it when you were about to…”

Rhys rolled onto his side, expression sleepy but pleased. He flattened his hand against Beckett’s chest, quieting him down.

“Then that’s what I’ll call you.” Rhys smiled, eyes closing slowly. “Beckett, my darling.”

CHAPTERTWENTY-NINE

RHYS APOLOGIZES TWICE

Rhys paced the sidewalk in front of the coffee shop, unable to keep his hands—or the rest of his body, for that matter—still. There was no fathomable reason that he’d agreed to meet Callahan in public, let alone at the coffee shop where Jace Dare worked, and yet, here he was. As it were, he hadn’t seen Callahan since the ribbon cutting when he’d confessed about the source of their breakup and left it at that. And they’d had that one phone call since he’d been in Myers Bluff, and that hadn’t gone well either.

Mostly, Rhys hated he was nervous. He hated the feeling ofbeingnervous, the uncertainty and tension that came with it. It was an emotion that made him feel defensive, like he didn’t have sight of the goal, and Rhysalwayshad sight of the goal.

“Are you going to stay out here all day or come inside?” Callahan brushed past him, the bells on the door jingling as he went in.

The sound shook Rhys out of his thoughts and he jumped forward, grabbing the door before it closed. He followed Callahan inside.

“Do you still drink flat whites?” Callahan asked, not looking at him.

“Yes.”

“Go sit down, Rhys.”

Rhys bristled, but schooled himself and stepped away from the line. He found a small table in the corner that faced the window. He popped open the button on his suit jacket and sat down with his back to the cash register. He knew Jace was working. He knew that was why Callahan had picked the place, the time, and the last thing he wanted was to see Jace glaring at him through the whole conversation.

Talking to Callahan…apologizing…it was going to be painful enough without Jace’s judgmental eyes on him the whole time. But he respected that all of the balls were really in Callahan’s court on this one. He also knew what a hit it must have been for Callahan to step in and help him with his father, considering how things had been between them for the last decade.

He didn’t have enough time to calm himself down before Callahan was in the seat across from him, shoving a white ceramic mug across the table at him.

“Thanks for meeting me.” Callahan awkwardly arranged himself in his chair, fidgeting with the hem of his shirtsleeve.

“I should say the same.”

“You can,” Callahan said sharply. “There’s no one stopping you.”

“Right.” Rhys cleared his throat. “Thank you, Callahan, for meeting me.”

Callahan sighed.

“And thank you,” Rhys continued, “for helping with my father.”

“That’s just as much for me as it is for you,” Callahan admitted. “Also, Sebastian.”

“How is it for you?”

“Do you not think that I deserve to hurt him?” Callahan asked. “If what you told me is true, that he was the reason things ended between us. Don’t I deserve a little retribution?”