Page 41 of Wear It Like a Crown

“Still a no.”

“This gig sucks,” Joshua said. “Curse these modern times. Can’t even have people drawn and quartered anymore.”

“It is a tough life.” Leo’s tone was all fake sympathy, and Joshua gave him a tiny shove and withdrew just as they crossed Regent’s Canal. Leo pulled the van to a halt. His smile had widened into a small grin and Joshua grinned back, a little lightheaded with exhaustion. Too little sleep, too many things on his mind—and then there was Leo.

Three hours apart would give Joshua a chance to clear his head.

“Are you sure you don’t mind getting rid of the rubbish by yourself?” he asked anyway.

“Princeling.” While mostly exasperated, the word held a hint of fondness. “I’ve done this many times before Your Royal Helpfulness came along. I’m sure I’ll manage.”

“Fine. Just want it to be known that I am willing to get my hands dirty.”

For an instant, Leo’s grin grew into a smirk, then dimmed again. “Noted,” he said simply.

Joshua cleared his throat and swallowed, the air tasting thick on his tongue, the vibrations of the idling van buzzing in his stomach. He grasped the door handle while Leo continued watching him with that odd half-smile. “So I’ll see you at the pub? You and Nate?”

“And Mo, if he’s up for it.” Leo looked away, but his smile persisted. “I’ll text you when I know the details.”

“Sounds good. Yes.” Joshua grabbed the T-shirt Leo had lent him and held it up. “I’ll wash this and return it to you after.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll just throw it in with the rest.”

Oh. Well, there went Joshua’s plan of possibly keeping the T-shirt for a while longer. It wascomfortable. “If you’re sure? I don’t want it to be a bother.”

“Told you, I’m doing laundry anyway.” Leo’s tone left no room for doubt, so Joshua gently set the T-shirt back down on the dashboard.

“Okay. Then I’ll see you later.”

“Absolutely.” Leo smiled at him, hands loosely clasping the wheel. Joshua stalled for another moment, waiting for—forsomething. Leo didn’t offer anything more, though, so Joshua finallyopened the door and hopped out onto the sidewalk. With a little wave, he nudged the door shut and made himself turn away, did not allow himself to glance back.

He’d see Leo again in three hours. By then, he’d better have managed to begin untangling the mess in his head.

* * *

Nate paused with his beer halfway to his mouth. “You took him along to your street kid thing.”

“That’s what I just said. Don’t make it sound like I murdered someone.” Leo checked the pub entrance, Joshua having texted that he and Mo were running twenty minutes late due to some security thing. No sign of them just yet. Once they showed, it would be interesting to see just how long they’d manage to stay without being mobbed.

Shit, there might be people trying to take Joshua’s picture while Leo was in the frame. He’d need to duck out. Not that anyone would care about a blurry person in the background, not as such, but they probably would if one of Leo’s old clients were to recognise him and go blabbing to the papers—the Prince with a rent boy, holy shit, that story wouldsell. Especially if Joshua went through with his interview on Tuesday, two days before the opening match of the World Cup in Brazil.

The timing was perfect. It would give the public one day for hysterics, and then football would take over the headlines. Hopefully, by the time the World Cup was done, the sexuality of Britain’s second-in-line would be old news, printed on paper just good enough to wrap some fish ‘n’ chips.

Nate kicking his foot brought Leo out of his thoughts. He jolted. “Sorry, what?”

“Isaid”—Nate used the back of his hand to wipe away a beer moustache—“that after you started the street kid thing, it took you six months to even tell me about it. You’ve never invited me along. And I’m, like, one of your best mates.”

Nate’s tone didn’t give away much, but his eyes betrayed hurt. It prompted Leo to reach across the table and squeeze his hand. “Not one of,” he corrected gently. “My best mate. That’s you.”

“Still you never tookmealong.” Again, Nate sounded painstakingly neutral. Leo tightened his grip, then let go.

“I’m sorry. It never really occurred to me.”

Nate took a minute to respond. When he did, it was with a sigh, shoulders slumping. “I get it, I guess.” He set his beer down and leaned back in his chair. “It’s connected to your past, right, and that’s not something we ever talk about. Your past. Or mine.”

Leo grappled for a tentative smile. “True.”

“And yet,” Nate said. “The moment Prince Joshua saunters into your life, you invite him in?”