5. Sebastian Courtland
5
SEBASTIAN COURTLAND
A bookstore.
I was taking him to a bookstore.
I was worth billions, and I was taking the guy who’d stolen my heart with all his tiny grins and hidden smirks to a freaking bookstore.
Now to be fair, it was an amazing bookstore, but I wanted to sweep Byron away on my private jet to Paris, where we’d wander the streets, munch on pastries, and cuddle together at the top of the Eiffel Tower. I wanted to take him to Venice, where we’d lazily glide down the canals in a private boat and eat pounds of pasta by candlelight.
I wanted to be the one who showed Byron the world and indulge his every fantasy.
And no, I wasn’t about to break into a Disney song.
However, this wasn’t a date, I bitterly reminded myself. This was two new friends hanging out at a bookstore on a lazy Saturday afternoon. It had seemed like a good idea when I’d initially proposed it. Byron had lit up like a Christmas tree, and I thought I’d scored a brilliant coup .
Until we walked into the place, and I realized I couldn’t hover at his elbow the entire time while we perused books. Normal people went off in different directions to follow their own unique interests.
Except my only interest right now was Byron Graham.
My clenched teeth hidden behind a closed-lipped smile, I dragged my sorry ass off to new releases while Byron wandered wide-eyed toward nonfiction.
Chester’s was a magical store, and I was glad to make it our first non-date outing. The delicious scent of coffee, chocolate, and yeast drifted through the air, accompanied by soft music and even softer conversation. People milled through the various aisles of books. The first floor specialized in nonfiction, calendars, periodicals, and children’s books, while the second floor overflowed with the glories of fiction.
When I was here alone, I would normally make a pass through nonfiction to see if there were any new biographies or business tomes I needed to pick up, but most of my visit was spent in equal amounts of time in general fiction, fantasy, and romance.
But I didn’t want to go upstairs while Byron was on the first floor, so I gave in to stalking while texting my friends for help.
Rome: Fuck. You’re a disaster.
Pierce: If he catches you, there’s no way you’re smoothing it over. You’re going to blow it before you get the chance to fuck him.
Rome: Totally.
Declan: Can you pick up the new Stephen King for me while you’re there?
Me: Yes, D. And you’re all useless. What do I say to get him to relax more around me?
Rome: Ummm…you don’t fucking follow him in a bookstore.
Pierce: That.
Declan: Dating your assistant is dangerous.
Rome: They’re not dating.
Pierce: They’re just friends.
Rome: With a little light stalking.
Pierce: So harmless. So reassuring. Not threatening at all.
I rolled my eyes and turned away from my phone for a second. Even without them in the store, I could hear the two hyenas howling with laughter at my dilemma. When I spotted Byron moving away from the bargain bookshelves to the business section, I turned my attention to my phone.
Me: I hate you both.
Rome: You love us because we’re all that remains of your common sense.
Declan: You’re doomed.
A snort jumped out of me. It wasn’t often that Declan sneaked in a burn on Pierce and Rome. That was a good one, too.
Me: What should I do?
Pierce: Go upstairs and look at the fantasy books, just like you do every damn time you’re in the store. You want him to feel safe and relax? Give. Him. Space.
Deep down, I knew Pierce was right, but I didn’t want him to be right. I might want to wrap myself around Byron, cover us in a blanket, and listen to him tell me all his problems, dreams, and hopes, but we were so far off from that day.
Besides, he’d clearly had a shit day on Friday, and the best thing I could do was give him some space to breathe and get his bearings.
Me: Fine.
Pierce: I don’t believe you. Send a pic of the fantasy aisle as soon as you get there.
With an irritated grunt, I headed to the escalator, leaving Byron on the first floor. This was what I got for taking Pierce along on my trips to the bookstore. The man knew my reading habits. The moment I reached the second floor, I snapped a quick picture of the great expanse, knowing Pierce would recognize it, and sent it to the group.
Afterward, I tucked my phone away and let myself get lost in books. It might have taken a little while, but I forgot about my crush on the first floor.
I didn’t know how much time passed before I caught sight of slacks and a familiar shiny shoe in my peripheral vision. My head snapped up, and I found Byron standing over me, wearing borrowed clothes. Sadly, he was too small to fit in my clothes and he’d had to settle for a pair of slacks and a dark-blue collared shirt Rome had forgotten at my house.
“I was beginning to think someone had kidnapped you,” Byron teased.
“Huh?” My brain had stopped. I was incapable of thought. Byron was smiling at me.
In fact, all the lines of tension that had pulled his lips tight, furrowed his brow, and surrounded his eyes were now gone. He appeared so much better than he had this morning. Space combined with quiet and books was a wonderful thing.
“I’ve been searching everywhere for you. I didn’t expect to see you sitting in the middle of the fantasy aisle with a stack of books.”
“Oh! Yeah. Kind of got lost in these.” I shoved to my feet with only a soft groan from stiff muscles and creaking knees. I picked up my stack of books and paused when I saw just one book tucked under his arm. “Are you done, or are you still looking?”
“I’m done. I’m good,” Byron answered quickly, hugging the book to his chest.
“You sure? Because I’m happy to find a chair and read for another hour.”
“Nah. I’m good.”
“Do you read only nonfiction?” I inquired as I led the way to the first floor and the checkout counter.
“Mostly. I used to read fantasy, but I haven’t in years. I’m so behind on all my favorite authors.”
“Well, if you ever want to start again, you can always raid my library. I’ve been collecting since high school, and my collection has gotten out of control.”
“Thanks.”
I bit my tongue to hold in my babbling. It was a good thing the line was short and the young woman ringing me up wanted to chat as she worked, giving me a chance to recover my self-control and collect my thoughts. As it was, I had to use all the self-control I’d gathered to keep myself from offering to buy his book. Byron was a self-sufficient, independent man. He didn’t need a sugar daddy buying all his things. Even though I wanted to be that sugar daddy with every fiber of my fucking being.
As we stepped outside, my stomach growled.
“Lunch!” I shouted and then inwardly cursed myself. That was supposed to be the silent part. “Um. You hungry? It’s…shit!” I glanced at my watch to find that we’d lost hours in that store. “How about a late lunch before I take you home?”
Byron opened his mouth, looking as if he were planning to turn me down, but his expression shifted at the last second and he nodded. “Okay. That sounds nice.”
“Great. I know this place not far from here. My treat.”
And to my even greater shock, Byron didn’t argue.
We climbed into my two-seat convertible Jag—the one thing I could use to show off a bit and treat Byron, since I wasn’t allowed to stick him on a private jet at this very early stage of things. In less than twenty minutes, we’d zipped across town to this restaurant that was always crowded because the dining room was so tiny. However, since I was a key investor, Lisa and Ray always had a table waiting for me.
Amid lots of hugs and excited greetings, we were shown to a secluded table on the back patio that overlooked a pond where the dragonflies zipped through the air and a couple of weeping willows dipped branches into the water. There was a steady buzz of conversation from the other diners but out here, the noise dropped to a dull murmur.
“Of course you can get right into The Dragonfly’s Wing,” Byron murmured with a smile after the server left us with water and menus.
“Well, I did give them a good chunk of start-up cash, and I try to eat here at least twice a month. Their T-bone is amazing, and on Sunday, they have the best prime rib in the city.”
Byron’s smile grew even wider. “They also have one of the longest waitlists to get a reservation in the city.”
“Then you’ll have to return with me for another meal.”
My companion said nothing. He just dipped his head behind his menu, directing his attention to finding food. Our conversation meandered as we talked about food preferences and my deep abiding hatred for anything to do with a sweet potato in all its forms.
By the time the server returned and took our orders, we were relaxed once again. A comfortable silence settled between us, and I had a moment to admire his profile as he stared out at the lake. Sometimes we felt like old friends. I’d known Byron for three years. We’d interacted five days a week with few exceptions. Even when one of us took vacation time, we found a reason to sneak into each other’s texts or emails. Going more than a weekend without talking to Byron felt wrong.
“Ronnie would have loved this place,” Byron said suddenly in a voice so soft I almost didn’t hear him.
“Ronnie? An ex?”
Byron gave his head a shake. “My older brother. He loved to fish. Got out on a lake or pond or river any chance he could.”
My heart squeezed for Byron, and I fought the urge to reach across the table to cover his hand with mine. “When did he pass away?”
Byron’s head snapped around and he blinked at me for a second as if he were waking from a trance. “Oh. Sorry. God, I’m an ass. Ronnie didn’t die.” There was a slight redness to the tips of his ears as he gazed at the lake. “Ronnie was involved in a car accident when he was seventeen, and he suffered severe brain damage as a result. He…struggles with memory, speech, and has extremely violent outbursts. There’s only three years’ difference between us, but he’s stuck with the mind of a child in the body of an adult.”
“There must be times where it feels like he died in that accident, because he’s no longer the brother you remember.”
Byron grunted in agreement, his eyes still locked on the lake as if he were lost in thought.
“Would you like to leave? We can find somewhere?—”
“No!” Byron jerked in his seat, his eyes wide. “Absolutely not. I’ve been dying to eat here. Plus, if Ronnie no longer has the chance to visit a restaurant like this, I can at least do it for him.” Byron swallowed hard, and his smile was brittle. “He lives in a hospital now. Long-term care facility. He doesn’t get outside much, but it’s an excellent facility and they take excellent care of him. As best they can…”
“What’s wrong? Is there something wrong with the care he’s receiving?”
“No. I—” He stopped himself and turned toward me, but he kept his head lowered, his glare directed at his water glass.
“We’re friends, Byron. You can talk to me. Do I need to take out the egg?”
A half smile curled up one side of his mouth. “You do not have that with you.”
I reached into my pocket, took out the marble egg, and positioned it in front of him, earning me the best surprised laugh.
“The Friend Egg says talk,” I said.
“That’s not always going to work,” he replied as he wiped one corner of his eye. “But yesterday, the topper on my already shit day was a call from Ronnie’s doctor. They needed to increase and adjust his meds because of a violent outburst. No one was hurt, thankfully, but the doctor reminded me that Ronnie needs to be moved to another facility. The current place can manage, but it’s always a strain for them if he has a bad day. Their top answer for problems is to dose him with more drugs, but the doc thinks that this other hospital would help him more because they have more programs that can work with Ronnie.”
“Is the other location full? Can they not take him?”
Byron shook his head. “The other facility is twice as expensive.” When he lifted his lips this time, it was frail and bitter as he tossed his hands up. “You know healthcare in America. It’s always ridiculously expensive.”
I had to bite on my tongue until I could taste blood to keep from blurting out a hundred things I knew were the wrong thing to say.
How much do you need? Let me pay for it. How about I give you a giant raise?
Before any of that could tumble from my mouth, my eye caught on the marble egg resting between us. We were brand-new friends, and throwing money at Byron’s problems was more likely to insult him than make him happy. Right now, I was supposed to be listening and offering emotional support.
“But you know, it’s been almost two years since I went digging through all the databases and websites for grants and subsidies to help pay for care like that. There might be new stuff out there that I’ve overlooked,” Byron continued, seemingly oblivious to my struggles.
“I know some people who are experts in healthcare costs and things like that. I could reach out to them and see if they have any advice or ideas that might help,” I offered.
That was a lie. I didn’t know anyone who was an expert in that tangled mess, but I had lawyers and other teams at my disposal who could wade through that morass and find answers for me and Byron. If I couldn’t give Byron my money, I could at least secretly spend it on him to help him find the answers he needed.
“Really? That-that would be amazing.” Byron stared at me with wide, shining eyes. The relief rising off the younger man was a palpable thing. I hadn’t offered a dime to him, but Byron acted as if I’d taken out an entire army of worries for him and given him his very first taste of hope in years. “Trudging through all those websites and forms can be so soul-sucking at times. And finding anyone who knows this world and has the time to help is just as hard.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll make some phone calls on Monday, get some wheels turning for you. I promise. We’ll find some answers.”
Yes. I was going to move this mountain for Byron, and it was only the start.