Wesley sputtered. “Mywhat?”
“Speaking of Jade, she wants to talk to us. But Rory and I are going to have words first.”
“Mymitts—?”
Sebastian pointed to the gold door. “Rory is in there.”
“Thank you.” Arthur pushed past them and shouldered open the door. “Teddy, what in ten hells were you thinking—”
The boudoir door swung shut behind Arthur. Wesley looked very sour as he turned back to face Sebastian. “Rory is a terrible influence on Arthur’s language.”
Muffled voices came from behind the closed door.
“Ace, I’m fine. You’re being overprotective again.”
“This is not overprotective; this is exactly the right amount of protective. You told me I didn’t need to be there and then you fell in the fucking Hudson.”
“I think it’s cute Arthur is picking it up,” Sebastian said. “I like how Rory talks, like when he saysare you screwyor calls something the cat’s meow.”
Behind the door, Rory and Arthur had raised their voices.
“I’m letting you teach me to swim—”
“Even a strong swimmer can struggle in icy water when the current is strong. And all because you lost your temper. Thank God Sebastian was there.”
Sebastian ducked his head, chest and face warming.
“Your imitation of Rory is on par with your imitation of me,” Wesley told him. “Which is to say it’s wretched, duck, I’m sorry. But Arthur’s right; you did save Rory today. It was foolhardy and idiotic and also very brave.”
Sebastian bit his lip. To go from kidnapping Rory under blood magic to actually being able to help—it felt good. The kind of thing friends did, not former enemies. “I’m glad he’s okay.”
“Aw geez, Ace, I’m sorry.” Behind the door, Rory did sound genuinely contrite. “’Cause you’re right, I need to learn not to blow my lid just ’cause people are crooks.”
“If you’re expecting me to forgive you just because you’re giving me those big eyes and sad voice, you can forget it. I’m going to stay cross with you this time.”
“What a filthy liar,” Wesley muttered. “Arthur is about to fold like a cheap hat.”
“Oh come on,” Sebastian said. “Who could ever stay mad at Rory?”
“I can, and have,” Wesley said unapologetically. “But I could stay angry with anyone—could write the damn text on holding grudges.”
“You forgave me,” Sebastian pointed out.
“Did I?” Wesley said meaningfully. “Or is this all an elaborate revenge plot where I’m taking my vengeance on you in my bed every night?”
Sebastian couldn’t help tilting his head back, bringing his lips closer to Wesley’s. “Maybe you should show me a little more of that vengeance.” His tongue darted out to wet his lips. “If you want.”
“I always want. That’s never in question.” Wesley’s gaze had gone to his lips. “And the things you make me want are diabolical.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” Sebastian said innocently. “I am the sweetest, most polite of gentlemen. Stop besmirching my character.”
Wesley’s lips curled in a smile. “You are such an arse.” He was leaning down, Sebastian stretching up, then Wesley abruptly paused. “Did you hear that?”
“Hear what?” Sebastian said.
“Silence.”
Sebastian paused as well. The hallway seemed strangely quiet.
