Page 116 of Wear It Like a Crown

“It’s going to be Brazil against Argentina in the final,” Mo said, not even bothering to open his eyes. “Political reasons. Just wait for it. And then Brazil will take the Cup.”

“Argentina,” Nate argued.

“Brazil,” Mo repeated.

Tristan shook his head, perfectly content. “Nope. Germany. Adidas already printed the jerseys.”

“Who even cares?” Leo asked. “And anyway, if it’s like that, I’m going to go with the Netherlands.”

Nate scoffed. “That’d be a first.”

“Not sure you have room to judge when your country is already out,” Tristan said, grin wide.

“Not sure you have room to judge when your team didn’t qualify,” Leo shot back. He was rewarded with Joshua giggling into his T-shirt, a warm puff of air, and immediately found himself distracted from the conversation. Grinning at Joshua, Leo tugged on a curl and watched it spring back into place.

By the time he tuned back into the conversation, the topic had moved on to sea serpents, of all things. Resting his cheek on Joshua’s head, Leo took a deep breath, inhaling the familiar mix of cologne, shampoo andJoshua, Joshua, Joshua.

“Hey,” he whispered, so quiet it wouldn’t travel over the roar of the plane’s engines. His stomach quivered through a turbulence. “We cando this, right? We’ll get through the shitshow that’s about to happen? You won’t regret it?”

Joshua lifted his head. “I won’t,” he said. “I won’t regret you, okay? Never.” There was no trace of doubt in his features, just calm certainty. Leo took another deep breath and nodded.

“Me neither,” he replied. “No way could I ever regret you.”

Joshua remained silent, but his smile bloomed true and bright. He dropped his head back down onto Leo’s shoulder, and Leo wrapped an arm around his waist to pull him closer. Always closer.

In the rear-view mirror, Carole’s eyes were worried. “Are you sure you want to do this?” she asked.

“Actually, I’m quite sure I don’t want to do this at all.” Leo adjusted the cuffs of his leather jacket, then looked up and set his jaw. “However, this very thing is my speciality. So.”

“I could do it alone,” Nate offered from the passenger seat. He sounded unconvinced, and Leo sent him a smile, shaking his head.

“You really couldn’t, mate. You’re not ruthless enough.” With that, Leo threw open the door and squinted up at the unfamiliar building.

Six years. It figured that both René and Jake would have moved in that time. The latter was now married to a woman who was blissfully unaware that her husband’s weekly outings with some mates for a round of bowls were, in fact, Jake meeting another boy just like Leo in a hotel that rented out rooms by the hour—Carole had procured the pictures to prove it. Just in case Jake happened to be obstinate.

But first off: René. Funny how Leo wasn’t the only underage prostitute the guy had picked up. Funny how it wasn’t funny at all.

Oh God.

They didn’t deserve you.

Joshua’s voice a soft echo in his head, Leo sucked some air into his lungs. They still felt punctured, like a flat tyre that had collapsed into itself, but when Nate stepped up next to him, Leo squared his shoulders. Without a backwards glance, he set off for the front door.

He let Nate do the honours of fiddling with the lock until itsprang open, then he took the lead up to a door on the second floor.Karl Nible. His finger on the doorbell, Leo paused to collect himself. Nate’s hand came to rest on his shoulder, heavy andright there.

Leo pressed the button.

His heart rate cut each second that they waited into three hectic slices. Then there were footsteps, and Leo moved slightly to the side so he wouldn’t show through the spyhole. He rapped his knuckles against the wood, just once.

It took a moment, then the door opened by a cautious crack. Nate shoved it open the rest of the way.

Leo’s first thought was that René had grown old. His hair, already thinning the last time they’d met, had receded further and showed traces of grey, and his face looked weary, drained. What a sad, sad man.

Dragging up a smirk from the bottom of his stomach, Leo tipped up his chin and kept his tone perfectly pleasant. “Hello there, René. Or would you prefer Karl?”

A short second passed, then René’s eyes widened. His gaze flicked from Leo to Nate, then back. He hurried to shut the door.

Leo stopped the attempt with his shoulder, pushing into the flat past René, and felt Nate right behind him. “Now, now,” Leo chided. He kept his voice light and sweet, fit for afternoon tea with the in-laws. “I know it’s been a while, but surely that’s no way to treat a guest?”