Page 32 of Wear It Like a Crown

Conversations aboutGame of Thronesand zombie football went beyond his job, though. He’d crossed the line already, and it wasn’t a problem, was it? Not as such. He just needed to keep his wits about him, hold on to his sense of objectivity—it was what had brought Joshua to him in the first place.

Leo shifted a little further away from Tristan and Joshua, leaning his back against the railing. The fairy lights were twinkling above him like miniature stars, and he wasn’t drunk, but possibly a hint tipsy. Maybe. It was at the stage where it was mostly pleasant. “My bite stings,” he remembered to say. “Thus, I claim the title of lime wedge. Because Nate is nicer than I am. And his talents are widely applicable, just like salt.”

“Not another bottle with a shot glass, then?” Joshua sounded decidedly casual, yet the sharp look he shot Leo from underneath his lashes gave him away. Who—Leo and Nate? Ha. Why would Joshua care though?

Leo was about to ask when he heard laughter from inside the flat: Nate’s abrupt cackle and then Mo murmuring something thatdidn’t translate. Okay, there was a chance that Joshua was looking out for Mo. Seemed likely, in fact.

“Nate’s a great guy,” Leo said, weighing each word before he put it out there. “Great friend, but definitely no shot glasses for us. We’re pretty happy to drink straight from the bottle. Personally,” he wiggled his fingers, “I believe that shot glasses are overrated.”

That might have been a little too much information.

“Overrated?” Tristan sounded offended. “Not possible.”

“I don’t know. Like, in society, maybe a bit.” Joshua’s voice was slow, his gaze sliding away to settle on the night sky. “I think I’d kind of like… I don’t know. I’d like it to mean something, I guess.”

Okay, so they were talking about sex. As in attitudes about sex. As in Joshua was sharing.

That was cool. Leo could totally handle it. No biggie.

When I was young and stupid, I dreamed about making love to you.

Haha. Yeah, no.

Admittedly, he had brought this on himself, although he hadn’t been the one to initiate the thing about shot glasses, but—this wasn’t just teasing, was more than just joking around. Joshua had sounded quite serious, and Tristan might have heard this before, but Leo hadn’t. He needed more beer.

“It’s better when it means something,” Tristan agreed easily, and Leo opted out of a conclusive statement by twitching his shoulders.

“Never really thought about it, I guess,” he said.

He was immensely grateful when Nate and Mo chose that moment to emerge again. They brought with them the blessed miracle that was beer, as well as a bowl with fruit that Joshua accepted with a delighted noise, sitting up and dislodging Tristan in the process.

Rolling a cold bottle against his cheek, Leo tilted his head back against the railing, closed his eyes and let the others’ voices wash over him. Everything was fine, and the entire mess that was his past could go fuck itself—he’d put it so far behind him by now that it might as well be on a different continent.

Things weregood.

It was well past midnight by the time Tristan offered to drive Nate, Mo and Leo home. “And then I’ll share a bed with my lovely girlfriend instead of you tossers, for a change,” he added, and Leo decided not to ask.

They dropped Mo off first, barely a mile from where Joshua lived, the area equally posh. No surprise there. Mo seemed half-asleep on his feet, managing no more than a vague mumble as he climbed out, and Leo took note of Nate gazing after him for longer than was necessary. Or polite.

Leo was next, and he made arrangements to meet Nate for their typical round of pints before he left the car. When they invited Tristan to join, he declined on the basis of needing to spend some quality time with his girlfriend. “Not all of us are single Pringles, bitches.”

“But some of us like it that way,” Leo told him. He offered a high-five to Nate, and Nate moved into it with a hint of hesitation.

Interesting.

“See you soon,” Tristan called after Leo. He’d said the very same thing after that pint with Leo and Nate, and then months had passed.

“You better,” Leo replied. After a rap of his knuckles on the car hood, he made his way to his building. With a honk that was bound to disturb the neighbours, Tristan sped off.

Ignoring the sudden silence that followed in the wake of the car’s departure, Leo unlocked the front door and climbed the stairs to his flat. His head felt empty, limbs leaden. As tired as he was, he still counted two tolls of the bell before sleep finally claimed him.

The weekend started with the usual tour of various company canteens to collect leftovers. It was a pretty decent haul, and Leo was in a good mood when he and Kylie made for the construction site they’d pirated for three weeks in a row. They should probably move soon; now that summer was in the air, the garden parcels around their spot were coming alive, and word travelled.

A few stragglers were already hanging around when they arrived, and Leo ordered them to help with laying out the food.Nosneaking, minions. If I catch you, I will give you a hard slap on the arse, and you won’t like it. Buffet opens at noon, and that’s for everyone.

Structure was important. As was authority.

More kids trickled in while Kylie returned the rental van, and by midday they amounted to about forty, some of them new faces who mostly kept to themselves, others comfortable as they told Leo about their week. Word on the street was that the day centre near Victoria Station had a new social worker who took “personal interest” a tad too far. “Just the vibe, man,” Shayna said, fiddling with her brand-new watch. Leo decided not to ask where she’d picked it up, but he did make a note to look into that worker, check out the bloke’s background.