Page 16 of Wear It Like a Crown

“Thank you,” Joshua breathed, and Mo sat up a little straighter to fix Nate with a look from underneath hooded lids.

“Same from me,” he said. “Thanks.”

Nate rubbed a nervous hand over the back of his neck and didn’t reply. Wow, Leo had never seen him like this; he’d seen Nate on the prowl a number of times, but it had always been casual. This was… weirdly intense.

Up until now, Leo had been convinced that Nate considered sex a physical exercise rather than anything substantially important. Like scratching an itch. Leo understood all too well, although he didn’t see the need to involve another person. Personally, he was fine wanking off in the shower whenever his body demanded attention, quick and efficient, head empty, mess-free with the evidence washing down the drain while he finished cleaning himself.

“You’re welcome,” Nate mumbled in Mo’s vague direction, shuffling his feet. His stance didn’t relax until Mo’s focus had shifted off him.

“So we’re… It’s over?” Joshua’s voice carried an edge of disbelief, and Leo lifted his shoulders.

“It’s never really over until you wear your secrets like a crown, Princeling.” In the wake of the informal address, Leo could feel Nate shoot him a surprised glance, and Tristan snorted while the corners of Mo’s mouth twitched. Joshua on the other hand seemed cautious, even wary. His back straightened, gaze clear on Leo’s face.

“You think there’s more where this came from?” he asked.

“Hopefully not wherethiscame from, but…” Leo maintained eye contact and didn’t shift on his chair. “This was your bodyguard blabbing, Joshua. Unless you deny yourself completely, cut off your balls, so to speak,”—oops, inappropriate again—“there’ll always be someone who could throw you for another loop.”

Joshua pressed his lips together and looked away. He didn’t argue,and Leo wondered if Joshua had already thought of it himself and Leo was merely putting it out in the open.

“Not a problem right now.” Tristan’s tone was defensive. He draped an arm around Joshua’s shoulders. “Jay, you don’t have to think about this just yet, yeah? Let it settle for a bit. Day’s been shitty enough, just—let’s go home, have some pints.”

“Think I need stronger stuff,” Joshua muttered. Again, he messed up his hair with both hands, twisted the strands into a wild tangle that made him look young and a little lost. Leo took too long dragging his attention away from Joshua’s fingers.

Thank God this tango with the past was about to come to an end. It was playing tricks on his mind.

Mo stretched with a small yawn, rising to his feet. “I’ve got tequila and whisky.”

“Sounds about right,” Joshua said.

“Just a sec,” Leo told him, holding up a hand. “Sorry. If you want to leave without security, that’s fine. I understand, and we won’t stop you. Or,”—he cocked an eyebrow—“call your mum and tell on you. But there’s still the matter of what we do with that Johnson bloke. We can’t keep him trapped in the conference room forever, you know? In fact, we have no legal grounds as it is.”

“Thought your unconventional methods are part of the package? Like, do unto them as they do unto you?” Tristan’s grin gleamed white but faded quickly—a commendable effort to lighten the mood. It was sweet, the way both Tristan and Mo had remained glued to Joshua’s side, and Leo supposed it could be seen as an indirect assessment of Joshua’s character.

It was possible that Leo had judged him too harshly. Not that he’d admit as much.

“Actually, we prefer to do unto them before they do unto us,” Nate said.

“Pre-emptive strikes.” Leo nodded. “Our speciality.”

Nate cast a quick glance around the room. “Nothing too bad, though,” he rushed to add, and, oh. They were in the presence of a representative of the Crown. Maybe not the best idea to brag about the,ah… very grey areas they exploited at times. “Andit’s for the greater good.”

“The greater good,” Joshua, Mo and Tristan intoned as one, a morbid chant that clearly doubled as an inside joke. Leo needed a moment to place it.

Right, of course:Hot Fuzz. As a self-appointed expert on Pegg/Frost movies, Leo should have recognised it immediately. Also, he wouldn’t have pegged—no pun intended—Joshua as the type to watch black comedies; it was almost as though the Prince was a normal person. He just might do things as mundane as playing FIFA, which improved the chances that Leo’s earlier comparison of privileged birth to an easier difficulty setting hadn’t come across as gibberish to Joshua.

Also, Leo needed to stop wasting quite so much brain space on the Prince.

“Great film,” he said. “But not actually an answer to my question about Johnson.”

He regretted his insistence when all traces of cheer disappeared from Joshua’s eyes, leaving them tired and helpless. Joshua’s voice carried exhaustion. “I don’t know. What options do I even have?”

“Fire his arse and leave it at that.” Leo ticked off his fingers. “Fire his arse and burn his bridges. Have him arrested on made-up charges. Have him arrested on true charges, so accessory to extortion, only that would mean the story will get out. Or, lastly, keep him on as your bodyguard.”

“Not an option,” Mo bit out. “That cunt needs to be far away from Joshua.”

Leo raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Don’t shoot the messenger, mate. Joshua asked me for his options, so I gave him the complete list. It’s not my call what he picks.”

For an uncomfortably long second, Mo stared at Leo. Then he shrugged. “Fair enough.”