“Probably not.” Sebastian put his back to the river so he could scan the park around them. “Do you see the kitten?”
“Why would I see a mangy alley cat when I am in no way looking for said mangy alley cat?”
“Because you might see her first,” Sebastian pointed out. “You have better eyesight than me and you’re so observant.”
“No, sorry, not going to participate in Sebastian’s Sanctuary for Squalid Strays, no matter how you flatter my ego.”
“But I don’t see her anywhere.”
Wesley raised his eyes skyward. “This is exactly why handsome men are trouble.”
“Because they...feed cats?”
“Because I take one look at you and my cock goesfuck, he’s stunning. Give him whatever he wants.” Wesley grudgingly pointed toward a clump of bushes, and Sebastian caught a flash of black-and-white fur hiding under it. “Your beast is over there. Feed her if you must, but mind you catch up with me; we are trying to get some answers today.”
The cat would only watch warily from under the bush, so Sebastian left the food for her and followed after Wesley, who despite his words had only gone a few meters away and then waited.
They fell into step together. “You know what’s bothering me about all this?” Wesley said, as they headed up the hill. “Well,oneof the things bothering me, there’s quite a lot to bother one, isn’t there? But look. All this, sneaking around—it doesn’t seem like any of their styles. Miss Robbins and Mr. Zhang are far too affable and congenial to treat us like this, Brodigan too surly to bother with it, and Arthur in particular would never employ this kind of secrecy.”
“Well,” Sebastian said, trying very hard to sound casual talking about Wesley’s extremely handsome and dashing ex-lover, “Arthur does hide the paranormal world very well.”
“Yes, because he’s nothing but a giant, football-playing mother bear,” Wesley said, as they passed an artist painting the mountains and a young woman pushing a baby carriage. “When it comes to protecting his surly antiquarian and the others, he keeps his mouth shut. But cryptic telegrams aren’t Arthur’s style at all.”
“Mmm,” Sebastian said.
Wesley waved a hand. “He ought to be charging into the inn with all the forethought of an impatient bull. Demanding whatever it is they all supposedly wanted to talk to us about.”
Sebastian nodded. “I’m sure you would know.”
“Because I know him biblically, you mean?”
Sebastian stumbled.
“A nice man would be sensitive and indulge you dancing around it,” Wesley said dryly, “but as we’ve established, I’m an absolute bastard. I also thought I established unquestionably that there is no reason to make any fuss over the past. I understand we’re a stone’s throw from Sleepy Hollow; if you’d like a hands-on demonstration that I’m over Arthur, I will happily blow you on Ichabod’s bridge.”
“Wesley.”
“I’m just making my position on this clear.”
Sebastian came to a stop, sighing as he turned to face Wesley. “I thought I was doing a good job pretending to be normal.”
“It was a good act, yes,” said Wesley, also coming to a stop. “But Sebastian, I don’t want anactfrom you. Pretending is what you do around other people. Not me.”
Sebastian stared at him for a moment. “You really are sweet sometimes.”
“None of that,” Wesley said. “I’m simply saying there’s no cause for you to be insecure.”
Sebastian stared a moment more. And then he started to smile. “I shouldn’t be insecure about other people?”
“No,” Wesley said, more slowly and suspiciously. “Why?”
“Well, see, I can’t remember.” Sebastian tapped his lips. “What do you call it when you’re sleeping with someone and you’re not supposed to be insecure about other people?”
Wesley opened his mouth, then snapped it shut. “You think you’re clever, don’t you?”
“No really, Wes, what’s it called? I think you shouldspell it out for me.”
“Are you sure that’s what you want?” Wesley said pointedly. “Because I haven’t forgotten what you called it at the hotel yesterday.”
