“Huh?”
“It’s true. Being ‘in love’ is a transitory state—a passing fancy designed to sell Hallmark cards for Valentine’s Day. And in spite of what the poets tell you, it doesn’t last. Trust me on this one, I’m the voice of experience here. I’ve been through it all. I know what I’m talking about.”
“So you’re upset because he fell for the gimmick? The idea of forever?”
I’d obviously struck a chord. Seb went quiet and briefly looked away before replying in a barely audible tone.
“Yeah, maybe that’s it. The forever part…I thought that was mine.”
I let the silence build. I watched him dissect a cookie, leaving chocolate chips on the napkin in a neat row. He dropped hints like puzzle pieces, but I still didn’t understand where he was coming from. I couldn’t learn anything new without asking questions.
“That doesn’t make sense. You said you didn’t want forever. And if you aren’t in love with him, isn’t it enough to just be happy for him?”
Seb wrinkled his nose. “Don’t get mature with me. I know I’m an asshole. I know everything I’m saying sounds mean-spirited, but you haven’t walked a mile in my shoes.”
“No, but—”
“You’re too young to understand. You have no perspective, no way of knowing what it was like to come of age in a time where you’re encouraged to lie about who you are and who you love. That shit killed Gray and me. You have no idea how exhausting and downright scary it is to live in fear that the wrong story will leak and you’ll lose it all. Your family, your friends, your career…”
“Hey, cool it with the preachy BS. I’m old enough to know things weren’t always rainbows, equality, and fuckin’ unicorns,” I huffed.
“Hmph. The irony is that other than my career, I lost it all anyway,” he continued in a somber tone.
“Pardon my tiny violin, but I gotta point out that you own a major studio and a blockbuster franchise. I don’t feel sorry for you.”
“Pity is the last thing I want. But I could use some alcohol.” Seb tapped the plastic top. “Do you have something stronger we can add to this?”
“I think so.”
He grabbed my wrist before I could stand. “I know we’ve been through this and you signed a confidentiality statement, but—”
My chair screeched against the floor as I pulled away. “Cool it. I’m tired of repeating myself. Yes, you can trust me, now quit pissing me off so I can find us some Kahlúa.”
“Thanks.” Seb’s smile lit his eyes and damn, it did something funny to my insides.
That was weird. I wanted to remain Zen and neutral about this man. It would be a huge mistake to assume this was anything more than an emergency therapy session for a man on the edge. I just happened to be here. Nothing special.
I returned with the Kahlúa and two spoons, grimacing at Seb’s generous pour. “Hey, watch it with that stuff. I don’t want to cart your drunk ass back to Brentwood. My employer will wonder what the hell I did to his dad.”
Seb snorted. “Doubtful. He’ll think we’re having sex.”
“And you’re okay with that?” I didn’t wait for his response. I swiped my palm over my face and slunk in my chair. “Jesus, I’d be mortified if the shoe was on the other foot and I was the one giving a parent a hall pass to have rebound sex.”
“If we were to have sex tonight—”
“And we won’t,” I supplied.
He flashed a mischievous half smile. “If we did, it wouldn’t be a rebound thing. And I wouldn’t worry about what Charlie thinks. He’s well versed in living in the real world. We never sugarcoated anything in our house.”
“By your house, you mean yours and Gray’s.”
“Yes.”
I added a touch of Kahlúa to my milkshake and stirred it lazily. “Charlie is your biological kid, right?”
“Yep. Mmm. This is good,” he hummed, licking his lips.
My dick swelled behind my zipper when he flattened his tongue and dragged it across the spoon. Damn it. Why was I so gone for this guy? I had a wicked déjà vu of him doing the same to my dick. I was growing more and more concerned about my reaction to him. I couldn’t tell if I should keep him at a distance, study him under a microscope, or pull him into my room and rip those khakis off.
Nope. Not happening. Stick to questions.
“How did…where did—how’d Charlie happen?” I fumbled. “Did you have a girlfriend? How and why and…who was she? I don’t get it.”
Seb quirked a brow as he popped a chocolate chip into his mouth. “It’s pretty simple. I had unprotected, drunken sex with a girl I met at a party in LA. She was an actress…or so she said. I never saw her again. About eleven months later, I opened my front door and found a two-month-old baby in a basket on my doorstep with a note that said, ‘He’s yours.’ I was twenty. I couldn’t legally buy beer, I barely knew my roommate, and I had a new PA job working with a director who makes Hal seem like a sweet grandpa. To say I was unprepared to be a father is a laughable understatement.”