Page 49 of Wear It Like a Crown

“This is so nice,” he said softly. “Imagine waking up to this view every day. Think Joshua’d notice if we just never leave?”

“Probably.” Nate’s tone was dry. “Not sure he’d mind, though. He seems to love having people around.”

Leo had been like that once—the life of every party, happiest when he was in the middle of a crowd. He kept his voice deliberately light. “Imagine what that’s like.”

“Yeah, imagine.” A significant pause followed Nate’s statement. When he spoke again, it was laced with caution, like someone treading on thin ice. “D’you realise that we’ve been mates for ages, but this is the first time we’ve spent the night together?”

Fuck. So they were doing this. They were going to have an actual, serious conversation when Leo already felt as though his thoughts were weighed down with exhaustion. Somehow, he worked up a cheesy grin and nudged his feet against Nate’s. “Aw, darling, you just had to ask.”

“Not what I meant, dickhead.” Without sparing Leo so much as a sideways glance, Nate shoved away from the window and went to change into one of the shirts Joshua had given them. It was snug on Nate. Leo moved to do the same and found that the other shirt was loose on him, comfortable. The faint scent of detergent triggered a sense of familiarity.

When he crawled into bed, Nate was already stretched out on the other side, a thin blanket pushed down to his waist, staring fixedly at the ceiling. The lamp on the bedside table showed the unhappy line of his frown, and all of a sudden, Leo felt drained.

He didn’t even know why he was still fighting. At this point, it had become a reflex.

“I know what you meant,” he said softly. Settling on his side and tugging his own duvet up to his chin, he waited for Nate to look at him before he continued. “Sorry. I’m adjusting, you know? Feels like everything’s changing right now, and it’s all going so quickly. Like… It’s as if Joshua walking into our office started off a chain reaction. Imean,” he snorted, “you’ve started wearing tank tops, for fuck’s sake. What is evenhappening?”

“I like what’s happening.” Nate’s shrug turned out awkward with the way he was lying down. “You’re a bit different, you know? Not like you’re a whole other person, but you’re starting to become more… open. Brighter, kind of. I like it.”

Somewhere in the flat, Tristan was singing a pop song that Leo vaguely recognised. Then a thump, and he fell silent. The toilet flushed, followed by running water, and a door clicking shut. Everything was quiet after that, and Leo wondered how Tristan and Mo had settled in next to Joshua—whether they were all up in each other’s space, legs tangled, sharing one duvet for the three of them. When Leo had wandered into Joshua’s bedroom the first time he’d been here, he’d seen only one duvet, spread out over the large bed that had been built into an alcove. Maybe Joshua kept spare blankets somewhere, just for occasions like this.

Leo shouldn’t care if Joshua shared his duvet with others. Or maybe he needed to give up trying to fool himself. Rolling onto his back, he punched his pillow into shape, Nate’s words ringing in his ears.You’re different. More open.

“When I was younger. Like, sixteen or so,”—Leo cleared his throat—“I had the worst kind of crush on Prince Joshua. It was embarrassing. You’d have laughed until you cried if you could have seen me back then.”

Nate made a noise that was trapped halfway between amusement and surprise. “Is that why you were such a twat to him? When you met him for real?”

“Yeah.” Glancing over, Leo tried for a grin, but it might have turned out as more of a grimace. “Well. We went to school together.”

“You bloody what?” In the stillness of the night, Nate’s voice carried, and he looked contrite right away. “Sorry,” he added, much more quietly. “You and Joshua? You went to school together?”

Leo raised a hand towards the ceiling and let it drop again. His chest felt a little tight, heavy, as though there was a weight pressing down on it. “Eton. I was a couple of years above him, though, and also very much a twink. I’ve changed quite a bit. Not surprised he didn’t recognise me.”

A short gap followed Leo’s words, then Nate raised himself up on his arms, studying Leo with a quiet half-smile. “You know, that’s more than you ever told me about your past. I can see it, mate—little twink Leo, swaggering about the place as though the world was at your feet, being a little shit to your teachers, sneaking glances at everyone’s favourite prince in the hallways and during lunch in the dining hall.” Nate paused. “Does Eton even have a dining hall, or would that be too, like…”

“Proletarian?” Leo finished for him. He snorted and shifted to get more comfortable, the mattress not quite as soft as he’d feared. At least he wouldn’t wake up from dreams where quicksand was about to swallow him up. “There is a large dining hall, yes, and half the houses eat there. Students are organised in different houses, you know. Like at Hogwarts.”

Nate chuckled, but stayed silent otherwise, gaze curious even as he clearly held back his questions. Wading through his thoughts, Leo tried to bring them into a semblance of order. “It’s all very posh—black tailcoat, waistcoat, stiff collar, although we were allowed our own clothes over the weekend.” He felt his lips twist into a tiny grin. “I had a colourful trousers phase that I would like to bleach from my brain, but I suppose there’s nothing to be done about it now.”

“Do you,” Nate said, still with that quiet half-smile, “realise that your voice gets more upper-class when you talk about Eton? Your accent, maybe the words a bit as well. Not quite enough to give Joshua a run for his money, mind. But, yeah.”

“It does?” Leo considered it, and yeah, that made sense. God, what a posh, sheltered twat he’d been back then. “Anyway, so Joshua was in a different house, one that had its own dining facilities. Guess they didn’t think it quite right to have the Prince mingle with the masses. He also had a bodyguard with him at all times, a burly bloke who lived in the room next door. Not Johnson, but someone else.”

“That must be so weird, living like that. Like, having someone else shadow your every step. He turned out all right, considering. Didn’t he?” Nate didn’t wait for a reply, settling back down on his stomach as he turned to face Leo, his voice thoughtful. “Doesn’t it suck that youknow all this stuff about Joshua, and he doesn’t have a clue? You ever thought about telling him?”

“About my utterly embarrassing teenage infatuation?Hellno.” Leo inhaled, and all of a sudden he felt lighter, almost giddy with relief. He’d done it. He’d shared this slice of the past with Nate, and it had been close to easy. Painless. The world hadn’t come to an end, and Nate was watching him with warm eyes and didn’t press for more than Leo was willing to offer.

“Well.” Nate grinned. “Obviously not that part. Just about Eton in general, I guess. Pretty sure he’d like to know, and it’s sort of like you’re holding out on him. When you have all these memories and he’s in them, but he doesn’t even know you guys have crossed paths before. Doesn’t really seem fair, does it?”

“Life isn’t fair. Didn’t they tell you?” Leo was careful to keep all bitterness out of his tone. “And you’re right, it doesn’t seem fair, I guess. But I wouldn’t want him to ask follow-up questions. Like what happened to me after.”

“Or why you changed your last name.”

Leo stiffened. “How did you?—”

“Educated guess,” Nate interrupted. “Jesus, don’t get your knickers in a twist, yeah? It’s just that early on, you always took a bit long to react to the name, you know? You don’t do that anymore, mind.”

Oh. Yeah, okay, Leo could see how Nate would have drawn that conclusion. When Nate had joined James’ team, about six months after Leo had, each “Graham” had sounded strange to Leo’s ears, had tasted sour and unfamiliar on his tongue. By now, he’d long since made it his own; it washis. An integral part of who he had become.