34. Henri
HENRI
I hadn’t been back at Remington’s house long when I heard the front door open. No way could Remington already be done with his business. Had he changed his mind and come to see me before things heated up?
“Henri? It’s Corbin.”
I tensed. Remington had said Corbin could be irresponsible, but he hadn’t said anything to indicate he didn’t trust him, so I supposed I should trust him too. I stepped out from the kitchen where I’d been stress eating right from the carton of dark chocolate brownie ice cream.
Corbin locked the door behind him and headed my way. When he saw the ice cream, his eyes lit up. “I don’t suppose you’re willing to share?”
He looked at the ice cream and then at me. “Oh, yeah. Sure.”
“Or I can look around to see what else Remington has.”
“No, really. I shouldn’t eat all this.”
He snorted. “You have to deal with my brother, so you probably need every bite.”
“Did he send you here?” I asked.
“Yes. He asked me to stay with you until he returns.”
“So you’re not… involved in whatever’s going on tonight?”
“Fuck no. Remington won’t let me in on it. He thinks I’m still a kid.” Corbin scoffed as he got himself a spoon and dug it into the ice cream.
I knew we were basically the same age, but he seemed younger, probably because he hadn’t been forced to take on the responsibilities of life like I had, though in his case it sounded like no one was giving him the chance to prove himself.
I wasn’t sure what I should say. I shouldn’t involve myself in Remington’s family issues. “I’m sure he’s trying to protect you.”
“I know that’s part of it,” Corbin said before digging in for another big scoop of ice cream. After he licked the spoon clean, he tapped it against his lips. “But it’s more that he doesn’t trust me.”
“Do you want to tell me why?”
Corbin studied me for a moment, then grinned. “Yeah, I do. I see why Remington likes talking to you.”
“Talking is not the reason we got together.”
Corbin grimaced. “I don’t want to think about my brother that way, but just so you know, he would never stay with a man as long as he has with you if he didn’t enjoy the time you spent together out of bed.”
Was that really true? I wasn’t going to let myself believe it. Remy had hired me. It wasn’t like he’d gone on a date with me and decided he really liked me. This was a professional arrangement.
However, it was true that he seemed to enjoy the moments when we lay in bed cuddling or chatted by the fireplace or read together, and the day he’d taken me around the city had been magical, even if he had worked from dawn to dusk almost every day after.
“Remington is a control freak,” Corbin said. “He thinks he has to be in charge of everybody and everything. I’m sure you’ve noticed.”
“I… um… I’ve noticed.” Heat filled my face as I thought about the ways Remington had shown me his need for control. I was a rent boy who blushed when I thought about sex. What the hell had I been thinking going along with my cousin’s scheme?
If Remington hadn’t come along when he had, God knows what would’ve happened to me.
I was so fucking glad I’d had a chance to be with him.
Even if I never saw him again after our time was up, he’d have given me an amazing two weeks and taught me what good sex was like, what real pleasure was all about.
“I don’t like being told what to do,” Corbin said. “So I haven’t always followed Remy’s orders precisely like he wanted me to. I fucked some things up, and yeah, my mama spoiled me. That doesn’t mean I can’t ever grow up, but no matter what I do, Remy won’t believe I have.”
I could see the pain in Corbin’s eyes, and I wished I could do something to make the situation between him and Remington better.
I had a feeling they were both at fault, Remington for not allowing or accepting change in his brother and Corbin for not following directions.
Something about Corbin’s protest that he had been trying his best to show Remington how mature he was felt overly defensive.
I didn’t think he’d tried quite as hard as he wanted me to believe.
After a huge spoonful of ice cream, Corbin asked, “Have you got any tips for me about how to get through to him?”
“I’ve only known him a short time, so I…”
“He trusts you more than he trusts me.”
He had to be wrong. “What makes you think that?”
“He told you things about what’s going on tonight.”
I shook my head. “No details. I only know a little.”
“I have to fight for every bit of information from him. He gives me assignments, but he won’t tell me the full story about what’s going on.”
I felt ridiculous giving Corbin advice. He was my age for God’s sake, and I was hardly an example of how to succeed.
Yes, I’d taken responsibility for my mom when she’d gotten sick, and I’d had a job since I was fifteen, but I’d still fucked up and ended up living in a filthy apartment with my cousin and three other guys I didn’t know, making money by selling myself on the streets.
“I need another drink if we’re going to keep having this conversation.”
Corbin frowned at my glass. “I don’t think lemonade is going to help.”
“If it’s half vodka, it will.”
He grinned. “Then pour one for me too.”
Once we each had a full drink, I tried to find something to say.
“I don’t think… I really don’t know what to tell you.
Maybe try talking to him sometime when you’re not about to go into battle, sometime when things are”—I got the sense things were never really quiet for their family—“calmer than they are now. Tell him how you feel, honestly, not defensively or angrily. Let him know his attitude hurts you.”
Corbin nodded. “That would probably be smart, but I don’t know if he would listen, even then.”
I wasn’t sure what else to say. I was amazed Corbin felt so comfortable talking to me. Plenty of people had told me I was easy to talk to, but most of them had known me for a long time.
“He really does like you, you know.” Corbin’s change of subject threw me off.
“What?”
“Remington really likes you.”
My heart rate picked up. “Did he say something about me?”
“Even though there are two guards outside, he sent me in here to watch over you. He said it was essential you have constant protection.”
Because I was an investment? Because I knew his secrets? Or was it more? “Doesn’t that mean he actually trusts you? If he values my protection and he sent you to guard me, then he trusts you.”
Corbin sighed. “He said the same thing, but?—”
I shook my head. “You want to be in the middle of the fight?”
He took a big swallow of his drink and frowned. “That sounds kind of ridiculous now.”
“No, you want to be able to do what he does.”
Corbin shook his head. “I don’t want to be in charge of the family. That’s too much. I just want to actually be able to help.”
“And eating ice cream and drinking with me doesn’t count as helping.”
He smiled. “It’s not like I mind it or anything. I mean, you’re way better than the other men Remington has been with.”
“I am?”
“Oh yeah. He usually dates stuck-up assholes. You’re not like them at all. I… Shit… I never share stuff like this.”
“The vodka helps.”
He laughed. “True, but I’m not usually a chatty drunk. I get…”
“Broody?”
He grinned. “Yeah.”
He would look gorgeous all filled with angst. He probably had men or women or whoever he preferred falling all over him just by sitting alone and looking thoughtful.
I glanced toward the front door. Remington had been gone a long time. “When do you think he’ll be back?”
“It’s hard to say.”
“Aren’t you worried?”
“This is my life. My father, my older brothers, this is just what they do.”
“But what if… what if he…” I grabbed the bottle of vodka and splashed a large amount into my glass before topping it off with a little lemonade.
Corbin frowned at my drink. “That’s going to be really strong. You might want to?—”
I brought it to my lips and gulped it down. I hadn’t let myself drink so much since right after my mom died and I’d wallowed in grief for weeks. “What do we do if he doesn’t come back?”
Corbin laid a hand over mine. “Remington might be an asshole, but he’s damn good at what he does. He’ll be back.”
I wanted to believe him, so I let him distract me with stories about Remington when he was much younger. By the time I’d drained my glass of vodka with a hint of lemonade, I was struggling to follow our conversation.
It took lots of squinting, but I finally made out the time on the clock. It was late, really late. My stomach churned. The last thing I needed was more alcohol, but I reached for the bottle anyway. Corbin grabbed it from my hand. “It’s time for me to take you to bed.”
My eyes widened. Remington would kill him.
He laughed, and the sound was overly loud in the small kitchen. “Not like that. You need water and ibuprofen. Then you need to sleep this off.”
“I’m not that drunk,” I protested, but when I stood, I wobbled and had to grab onto the counter.
“Right.”
I realized Corbin was completely steady. Was he just that much better at drinking? “I don’t drink much. Almost never.”
“Then you really need water.”
Corbin forced me to finish a huge glass of water and part of another one. I downed three ibuprofen, and he literally tucked me into bed like I was a kid.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get so drunk.”
“It’s okay,” Corbin said.
I didn’t think I could sleep without knowing Remington was safe, but as soon as I lay down, the darkness seemed to enfold me.