Page 99 of Wear It Like a Crown

Two weeks. Surely it would be enough time for Joshua to start getting over Leo, to stop hoping that somehow, in some miraculous way, things would work themselves out.

Surely.

* * *

At half past five in the morning, Rio de Janeiro’s international airport was a surreal experience—maybe it was the heavy cover of night blanketing the landscape, or the colourful traces of the World Cup that were everywhere. It could also be that Leo didn’t understand a word of Portuguese. Or maybe it was because he hadn’t slept more than a couple of short, fitful hours, and his inner clock informed him it was well into the morning.

They collected their bags and stepped out of the building into avelvety night, the sky only just beginning to brighten. “Texted Mo yet?” Leo asked around a yawn. In spite of the tiredness weighing him down, there was a low-level buzz of adrenaline coursing through his blood.

He was in Brazil. He was about to see Joshua, and this time he wouldn’t hold back. Was this what Johnson had felt like when he’d put everything on a number, on a horse? This rush? All or nothing;rien ne va plus.

“I did, yeah.” Exhaustion blurred the contours of Nate’s words. “Bit earlier, while we were waiting in Immigration. Hasn’t replied yet.”

“Probably still asleep,” Leo said. Joshua would be asleep too. Were he and Mo—but no. Mo was Nate’s boyfriend now, and Joshua wouldn’t get over Leo quite so quickly, would he? Or bring a random guy back to his room to make himself forget?

Oh God. What if Leo showed up, and Joshua wasn’t alone?

“Hey,” Nate said, quiet concern, and Leo glanced up sharply.

“Let’s grab a taxi.” It came out a little off-kilter, betrayed the sudden, nauseating pressure that squeezed down on his chest. “The Copacabana Palace, right?”

“Right. Top of the hotel crop.” Nate was frowning, studying Leo for a beat too long. Leo shifted under the scrutiny. In the end, Nate settled for a comforting touch to Leo’s shoulder before he turned to lead the way to the taxi rank. With a deep breath that rattled his bones, Leo followed.

It was a drive of nearly an hour.

They spent it mostly in silence, watching the world streak by outside—the silhouettes of palm trees against the inky sky, little boats out on the water, their position lights winking in the approaching dawn. There were also run-down houses that rose high, air-conditioning units protruding from the walls; there were hotels that had been constructed in an obvious hurry and without a single consideration for individuality.

As they neared the Copacabana Palace, the ocean, previously confined by a large bay, opened. The water was a slim, blue band that faded into the horizon. When the taxi pulled up in front of a white-washed hotel complex that glowed against the brightening sky, Leo felt his heart constrict in his chest.

He wasn’t ready.

A little numbly, he paid the driver and had no idea how much the sum would be in British pounds. Nate had told him the exchange rate, but Leo couldn’t recall it right now. He could barely recall his own name.

Leo Graham. Leo Troy Austin. Jason. Zach. Mo. Whatever you want it to be.

Hotel employees jumped to help them with their baggage, the black buttons on their uniforms contrasting with the white of their jackets. Leo followed mutely behind Nate, and while this wasn’t his first brush with luxury, it had been years and only added to the sense of disorientation that had gripped him. Everything was tempered air and polished gold coating and lavish flower bouquets, and he really just wanted to see Joshua.

Joshua. Who was probably still asleep. Hopefully alone.

Nate exchanged a few words with the receptionist while Leo stood staring up at a chandelier that hung above their heads. He jolted out of his haze when Nate nudged him. “They can’t tell us the room numbers, won’t even confirm Mo, Joshua and Tristan are staying here,” Nate said, and… what? Oh. Right, of course.

“Hotel policy.” Leo shrugged. “They wouldn’t confirm they’re here even if we saw them hanging out in the lobby. Places like this, they pride themselves on their discretion. Can you—if you try calling Mo?”

Nodding, Nate retrieved his phone and took a few steps off to the side before he made the call. A frown settled on his face, and he returned with a “Straight to voicemail. Must have switched it off.”

“Tristan?” Leo asked. Then he pushed out a heavy breath. “No, never mind. I might as well call Joshua now, give him a fair warning. If he doesn’t want to see me?—”

“Hey,” Nate said firmly.

“If he doesn’t want to see me,” Leo repeated, and even though he tried to make it sound composed, his voice caught halfway through the sentence, “then at least I won’t stand there like an idiot while he slams the door in my face.”

Without waiting for a response, he turned away and unlocked his phone, briefly closed his eyes and saw sparks dance behind his lids. When Nate rested a warm palm on his back, Leo swallowed and leanedinto the touch. Blindly, he brought the phone to his ear and waited for his call to connect.

* * *

Joshua had been up since five. He’d fought his own body, willing himself back to sleep, but he’d given up after half an hour, had turned on a reading light and struggled to focus on a book even though the words kept swimming in front of his eyes.Fever Pitch. Leo had recommended it, and Joshua had been meaning to read it for a while.

He shoved all thoughts of Leo to the back of his mind.