Page 50 of Wear It Like a Crown

“So you didn’t, like…” Leo hesitated. “You didn’t look into my background?”

Nate’s brows pulled together. “I wouldn’t do that. Friends don’t spy on their friends, right?”

The words were interwoven with hurt, and Leo touched his shoulder, trying for a smile. “Sorry. I know that you wouldn’t, it’s just… stupid paranoia. Please don’t take it personal.”

“No, I get it.” Nate was quiet for a moment, then the corners of his mouth tugged up into an answering smile. “So, like, I know you’re abit prickly about physical stuff, but I think this warrants a cuddle, yeah?”

Leo exhaled on a chuckle and shifted closer, sliding up his hand to rest between Nate’s shoulder blades. “All right. If you must, I suppose that we can have a cuddle. Just don’t cop a feel, okay? I know it’ll be hard to resist, what with my ace body and all, but I’ll have you know?—”

Nate’s laugh cut him off, and then he was pulled into a tight embrace, his face shoved against Nate’s shoulder. “Suffocating here,” Leo managed weakly, which only served to make Nate tighten his grip until Leo sighed and relaxed into it. All things considered, this wasn’t too bad.

Pressing his nose into Nate’s chest he took a deep breath, caught the lingering scent of lavender soap and detergent that was carved into his memory as belonging to Joshua. Leo could get used to the whole cuddling thing. “Thank you,” he mumbled.

“Anytime, mate.” When Nate loosened his hold, Leo didn’t move away. Honestly, he was comfortable where he was. It reminded him of tucking his sisters into bed, reading them a bedtime story while they’d burrowed in close, listening with rapt attention as he moulded his voice to fit the characters—the little blue fish all happy and optimistic as it begged for one of the rainbow fish’s glittering scales, or sweet Miss Honey in a back-and-forth with Matilda’s high-pitched, energetic tumble of words, both of them offset by ill-tempered Miss Trunchbull.

Fuck, it had been years since he’d let himself think about any of that. He wondered how the girls were doing, whether they thought about their brother at least once in a while.

Swallowing around the knot that had lodged itself in his throat, Leo pulled back and scrubbed a hand down his face. He was fine. He wasfine.

Nate watched him with his mouth twisted into a gentle downwards curve. “So I guess it’s my turn, right? Tell you something about my own past.” For all that he clearly strove for a casual tone, it didn’t quite work; Leo could hear the discomfort underneath.

“You don’t have to,” he said. “We’re not playing tit for tat. That’s not how friendship works.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you, yeah?” Nate rested his chin on afist, the dim brightness of the lamp softening his frown. “It’s more that it’s a long story, kind of. And kind of not, but I don’t really like to think about it. You know?”

Yes, Leo did know. He hadn’t offered anything past the fact that he’d attended Eton, and Nate hadn’t asked—had known not to ask, probably. Because he understood Leo in a way that people like Joshua, or Mo, or Tristan, never would.

“I get it.” Leo paused to study Nate’s face. “No need to tell me, okay? Just wondering, though… Did you get into trouble with the law? Like—I think Ben did. But not you, I don’t think so.”

“I didn’t. My missions, they were”—a tiny hitch—“officially sanctioned.”

Missions, Leo thought.What did you do, what happened? Does it have anything to do with how you never drive, but always insist on taking the passenger seat?

He forbade himself to ask, simply nodded.

“What about you?” Nate asked a moment later. “Did you break the law?”

Well. There’d been a few instances of shoplifting, and the first time Leo had accepted money in return for sex, he’d been seventeen. It had been early November, an unusually cold one with night-time temperatures dropping towards freezing, and a warm bed for the night had been his original goal—a bit of a fumble in exchange for a roof over his head and maybe, if he was lucky, even a cup of tea for breakfast. Instead, he’d found himself back out on the street an hour later with fifty quid in his pocket and his heart lodged in his throat.

Fifty quid for a hand job and some dirty talk. The bloke had been generous, seriously decent as well, even if Leo had been too bewildered to appreciate it at the time. He’d been fortunate.

“Nothing that would have landed me in jail,” he replied, slightly delayed. If anything, the underage component would have landed his punters in jail and him back with his parents. Which—thanks, but no thanks.

Outside, a motor boat chugged past, then everything was quiet again. They should get some sleep, especially seeing as tomorrow would see them jumping right back into coaching Joshua for the interview.Yet Leo felt wide awake, his thoughts skittering about like ants in a tizzy.

Nate had accepted Leo’s response with a faint smile. He’d only just moved to flick off the light when Leo asked, “What’s going on with you and Mo, then?”

The room was plunged into shadows, lit only by the distant brightness that trickled through the curtains and turned the windows into rectangular shapes. It took a few seconds for Nate to sink back into his pillow, and when he spoke, he sounded mildly confused. “I don’t actually know. He’s really hot, obviously. And much nicer than I thought. A bit of a dork, which I think is cool, you know?”

“Holy fuck, you sound like you’re ready to propose.” Leo grinned and rolled onto his side, closing his eyes. He could feel his pulse slowing down, less erratic in his ears. “Honesty hour, mate: did you or did you not wank off to that underwear shot you told me about?”

Nate breathed out a snicker. “I am under no obligation to answer.”

“That’s a yes,” Leo decided.

“Shut it, Grammy.” A brief silence followed Nate’s words, and while it wasn’t awkward as such, Leo wondered whether Nate was pondering how the nickname was based on a lie. If Nate was bothered, he didn’t show it and instead went for a light, teasing tone. “You know, that whole flirting thing you and Joshua got going on?—”

“Flirting thing?”