“The whole thing has me frazzled, to be honest,” he admitted.
“I feel like there’s a lot happening that I don’t know about.”
Remington let out a rough laugh. “There’s a lot I don’t even know about. This is all pretty uncharted for me.”
“And you’ve not spoken to Sebastian about any of this?”
“No.”
“What do the two of you do when you’re together?” Jace asked.
Make schedules.
Kiss.
Touch.
And then there’d been the spankings.
“I don’t need a lecture,” he said. “You know I haven’t done this before.”
“Jesus, Remington. Neither had I, but you kind of just have to go with what feels right. You know?”
Schedules and kissing and touching. All of that felt right. Spankings felt right. Sebastian felt right. They were right. Somehow, in the complicated mess of whatevertheywere or what they were meant to be, there was a comfort and a rightness. And he didn’t understand it completely.
It had snuck up on him. Slow and creeping and tender, much the opposite of the man the feelings were directed at. How was he meant to express any of that to a man like Sebastian? To a man who didn’t even call him when he’d fled town at the behest of a pushy older brother and a manipulative ex-wife? What good would it serve Remington to face any of those feelings, to put words to them or speak life to them, when there was no surety they’d be reciprocated.
“He could have called me,” Remington said weakly. “If he wanted me, he could have called.”
“Remington.” Jace sighed. “Do you remember when I came home from Mallardsville? When I left Callahan there and came home early?”
“Of course.” He’d never forget the distress Jace had experienced at the hands of Sebastian’s haughty older brother.
“Do you remember what you said to me?”
“I said a lot of things.”
“You always do.” Jace laughed. “But in particular, you were feeling full of humor and you told me it’s possible for two people to both do something wrong.”
“I said that?”
“Word for word.”
“You’re saying I should call him,” Remington deduced.
“I’m saying you can’t fault him for not calling you when you’ve not called him either.”
“I don’t know what’s wrong.” Remington slid down the couch until his ass hit the floor. He stretched his legs beneath the coffee table and sighed. “I don’t know what he needs.”
“What doyouneed?” Jace asked.
Like it was that simple.
Like he knew what the answer was before he even asked the question.
I needSebastian, he wanted to say. But the words caught in his throat.
“I don’t know,” he said instead.
