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His heart skipped a beat. Oh, God. More proof. That right from the start, Max had cared differently for Sean. Differently than the way he cared for the others. Because that announcement? Max’s decision to abstain from sex with clients? It’d been posted right after he’d taken Sean on. As his newest sub, whom he’d quickly coined his favorite. This revelation certainly backed that claim up.
Sean’s spirits soared through the roof again before he could stop them, only to crash and burn once more a second later. Because as amazing as it was to learn of Max’s fidelity, ultimately, it didn’t make a difference. Regardless of how Max felt, he refused to give Sean a chance. Which, ironically, turned this incredibly amazing discovery into just another blade in Sean’s chest.
Loosing a soft curse, he moved to log out, but stopped again when he glanced at the menu. Up in the top corner, where each section was listed, including that of payment for services rendered.
Sean froze. Oh, shit.
Oh, shit. Oh, shit.
He had yet to tally up his fucking tab. Jesus! How the fuck had he forgotten about that? His pulse kicked back up in anxious realization. Because he needed to pay it pronto. It was a tether to Max he needed to sever immediately. Otherwise, there’d still be a reason to make contact and he just couldn’t bear anymore. A part of him died every time Max pushed him away.
He swallowed and rubbed his mouth, brain churning for a solution. Truth be told, Max would probably just wave the bill. But fuck that. Sean refused to end this chapter as a freeloader. No, he’d pay it, but not in Max’s presence. Hell, he’d pay it with no interaction with Max at all. Max would certainly appreciate the effort, but even more than that, it was the only way to get it done with Sean’s heart intact. Intact, not unscathed, because God fucking knew, anything related to Max left a mark.
Exhaling heavily, Sean shut down his laptop and mustered up all remnants of battered resolve. Time to go sever the final tie, so he could finally move on.
Fuck, this sucked.
THIRTY-SEVEN
“Sean. Long time no see. How’ve you been, bud?”
“Alright.”
Scott’s small smile ebbed. He glanced over his shoulder, then looked back again. “Um. Max isn’t here. Has classes over at Mason.”
Sean shifted on the stoop. Shoved his hands into his pockets. “I know. That’s why I came now. I didn’t want to run into him.”
“Oh.” Scott studied him. “Then why are you here?”
“I need to square up my tab. Need to wipe the slate clean, so I can put Max behind me and move on.”
Scott frowned, lifting a brow. “Your tab? What tab?”
“For the sessions… When he dommed for me, he started a tab.”
Scott eyed him oddly, then glanced away in perplexed thought. “I’ve never heard of him making a tab before. He always requires payment upon service rendered.”
Ugh. Sean didn’t want to analyze Max’s choices. He just wanted to get this over with and be done. It hurt to be here. His stomach was in knots. “I dunno, Scott. I didn’t question it.” He gazed at Scott pitifully. “Can you please just find my bill for me so I can go?”
Scott sighed. Then nodded. “Okay, come on in. If it’s anywhere it’ll be on his laptop in the studio.”
“Thanks.”
Sean followed him inside and down the hall, but paused when he entered Max’s office. The place felt different. Cold even. Wrong. A standing shelf was broken and propped against the wall. Other shelves were empty where sculptures use to be. And the floor had dried granules scattered everywhere. What the hell? Max was meticulous when it came to neat and tidy. What in the fuck was going on?
Scott strode across the room, grit crunching beneath his boots, and sank into the seat at Max’s desk. Cracking open his laptop, he booted it up, then got busy typing in the passcode. Sean stood in the doorway, quiet and unsettled.
Scott glanced up and motioned him in. “Come. Have a seat.”
But the only seat available was the one over by Scott, and that one was loaded with a shit ton of memories. Specifically, of the time when Max duct-taped Sean to said chair, then forced him to come repeatedly… in his ass. Max had sat back and watched every titillating second, watched as he talked on the phone. What happened after that had been intense. Some of the best—and worst—moments of Sean’s life.
He frowned and shook his head. “Nah. I’m good. I’ll stand.”
“Well, at least come in. You don’t have to hang out in the doorway.”
Sean’s heart pounded. Such a simple request, and yet it stressed him out completely. So much history in this fucking studio, a bittersweet vortex of emotions. But he was making Scott twitchy by standing so far away, so he cleared his throat and tentatively headed inside.
