Page 15 of Wear It Like a Crown

Steady and confident, Joshua. Smile. It’s all about projection, about pretending you don’t even notice the stares. You’re above the scrutiny.

Hold the pose.

It wasn’t the first time Joshua had misplaced his trust. There had been people before Johnson, false friends who’d wanted him for his status or his connections, for his family money. But this was the first time he’d been played with malicious intent.

In theory, Joshua should be on the phone right now. If he were stronger, he’d handle the calls to his mother and George himself. He’d be out there taking charge instead of hiding out in a tastefully decorated waiting room, trying to forget the last fifteen hours of his life while his stomach quaked at the mere idea of bringing in a replacement for Johnson. Just like Johnson, the other two bodyguards who sometimes worked for Joshua were bound to know things that Joshua had never told them, and just like Johnson, they might one day be tempted to twist that to their own advantage.

As long as Joshua kept his sexuality a secret—as long as he was gay—he was vulnerable. A liability to the Crown.

“D’you wanna talk?” Mo asked gently, sinking into the chair next to Joshua’s.

Tristan dropped to the floor, crossed his legs and leaned back against Joshua’s calves, one of his hands wrapping around Joshua’s left ankle. “We can also shut our traps, if you prefer. Just, like. We’re here, yeah?”

“I know.” Clearing his throat, Joshua tipped his head back against the wall. His body felt heavy, heavy, heavy. “Never doubted it.”

“You didn’t? You never thought one of us might have… You know?” There was a hint of apprehension to Mo’s tone, and Joshua was quick to shake his head. Tristan, still on the floor, twisted around to look up at them. His expression was uncommonly serious.

“No,” Joshua said. He glanced from Mo to Tristan and back, repeated, “No. You wouldn’t. I mean, I wasn’t even supposed to tell youabout the whole… investigation thing, like, Nate trying to find virtual traces and whatever they did. Leo told me not to tell anyone, and I told you both anyway. So.”

Neither Mo nor Tristan replied, but Joshua could feel them shifting closer, wrapping him up. He was grateful for the second-hand warmth.

* * *

Leo hesitated in front of the closed door. He’d moved past the waiting room a few times while hurrying back and forth between Nate’s office and his own, and the initial murmur of voices had died down about an hour ago. Raising his hand, he knocked gently and waited for a response. None came.

Leaning around the ficus tree Nate was fighting to keep alive, Leo peered into the room through a glass panel. Dimly lit by a single lamp, the room’s occupants were cast in a bronze glow, asleep on the floor in a haphazard tangle of limbs, curled into each other with no space left between them. It was sweet, sparking a distant ache in Leo’s bones.

He inhaled deeply before he went to open the door.

His steps were light on the wooden floor, not enough to disturb the sleepers. Leo crouched down beside them, and for a moment, he was caught staring at Joshua’s face, features soft and lax in sleep, lips parted. Like this, Joshua looked painfully young.

“Princeling,” Leo whispered. There was no reaction, so he reached out to touch Joshua’s shoulder. “Joshua.Hey.”

Joshua woke up with a start, shooting into a sitting position and blinking, wide-eyed, at Leo. The sudden movement roused Tristan as well, had him roll over with a groan, while Mo mumbled something unintelligible and buried his face against his arms.

“I’m so sorry.” Leo shifted away and sat back on his haunches. It was disconcerting to have all of Joshua’s sleepy focus, made heat scramble up the back of Leo’s neck and warm his cheeks, unsettling him further. He suspected his flush was obvious even in the weak light. “I wouldn’t have woken you if it wasn’t necessary.”

With a soft exhale, Joshua ducked his head and scrubbed a handdown his face, then ruffled up his hair. The strands were long enough that a few curls hung into his eyes. “What time is it?”

“Nearing midnight.”

“Any news?” Tristan asked.

Leo was glad for the excuse to look away from Joshua. “Yes, actually. That’s why I woke you. Sorry again.”

“Oi, Puri.” Without missing a beat, Tristan pinched Mo’s stomach just as Nate entered the room, stopping to take in the scene. He drew closer while Leo scrambled to his feet. Joshua followed suit, propped himself up against the wall. He looked drained, robbed of the self-assuredness he’d displayed that very morning.

When Mo made a protesting noise, Leo dragged his gaze away from Joshua’s profile and caught Nate holding himself uncommonly still, as though transfixed by the tattoo that had become visible where Mo’s T-shirt had ridden up. The black letters sitting above the waistband of Mo’s trousers spelled “Don’t think I won’t”and reminded Leo of a tattoo he’d seen on Joshua while leafing through theMetroearlier today—a “why not?” inked into a similar spot, clearly visible in the pap shots from Joshua’s holiday in Spain.

Leo’s attention hadn’t lingered on those pictures. He wasn’t that person anymore.

“What’s the news, then?” Joshua asked once everyone seemed reasonably awake, even Mo having dragged himself upright. Sleepy and grumpy, Mo was still the most beautiful man Leo had ever seen up close. He could appreciate the aesthetics, but unlike Nate, he didn’t feel a need to stare. His capacity for attraction had been on the back burner for years.

“It’s good news.” With a smile directed at Joshua, Leo spun a chair around and straddled it backwards, elbows on the armrests. “Looks like the police got the guys, cleaned out their evil lair of sin and debauchery. They’re in custody. And before that, Nate’s virtual breaking and entering was successful.”

“You can never be a hundred percent certain,” Nate contributed, because of course he couldn’t just omit some details in the interest of soothing a client. Sigh. “But chances are good. At least I managed to erase all traces I could find.”

Well,yes. That, and he’d refused to let Leo have a look at anything before making it disappear. Leo’s curious streak had been wildly offended at Nate squirming and blushing over something he wouldn’t share. Bastard. Friends didn’t kick their friends out of their offices.