Page 71 of Wear It Like a Crown

He might come to regret this, but he was so very, very tired of receiving information in easily digested bites. He was an adult, for fuck’ssake, and it was time he acted like one. Nudging his readily packed bag aside, he glanced at his watch and guessed that he had about half an hour before Tristan would be over to pick him up. Plenty of time.

Joshua grabbed his tablet off the coffee table and unlocked it while he made his way out onto the terrace. TheSun,theMirrorand theGuardian, along with a brief look at his Twitter mentions—that should give him a good idea of the discussion in the country. He dropped onto the sofa bed and called up the first page.

Football at the top, but right below there was an article on him.“Prince Joshua’s supermodel: more than friends?” Predictably, it went on to speculate about his relationship with Mo and combined it with pictures of the two of them from Spain and other occasions. The comments were what really interested Joshua, and he skimmed through them with his heart beating high in his chest, bits and pieces jumping out at him.

Scorching hot together. Who cares. I’d do both. Disgrace. Sex tape please. Shameful. Commend his bravery.

With the words a quiet, low-level buzz in his head, he navigated to Twitter.

Twenty minutes later, he emerged blinking and a little disoriented. So that had been… not too bad. Right? There’d been some hate mixed in, yes, of course—homosexuality as a sin, inherently wrong, and those who practised it doomed to burn in hell—but somehow, it couldn’t quite touch him. It hadn’t beenpersonal. He’d been the peg to hang the prejudices on, nothing more.

A week ago, he might have taken it to heart. A week ago, he might have gone running to Leo.

Now, Joshua was fine. Some of the comments had made him swallow, yes, had made his hands shake, but… Overall, he was fine. Maybe the morning’s events had rendered him too numb to feel the impact just yet. He didn’t feel numb, though; he felt wide awake, as though for the first time he had a clear view of the things that mattered, and the things that didn’t.

The opinions of strangers on the internet didn’t matter. They couldn’t hurt him. They couldn’t use him, betray his trust, make him fall for an illusion. They couldn’t walk out on him.

Thanks, Leo.

* * *

It was noon by the time Leo made it to the office.

After leaving Joshua’s place, he’d wandered aimlessly for… a while. He didn’t quite know how long it had been, only that it was long enough for Nate to try calling him twice. Leo hadn’t picked up. Instead, he’d drifted with the crowds. For some reason, he’d expected to stick out in Joshua’s plaid shirt, but so far, no one had pointed at him and exclaimed, “He’s wearing the Prince’s clothes!” No one had taken notice of Leo at all.

There’d been no clear direction to his mindless movement, but when he’d found himself in front of Kylie’s bar, he’d halted in his steps. At this hour, the place had still been closed, its windows shuttered. Seven years ago, it had been one of Leo’s usual haunts, had been where he’d met Kylie and found a constant in the cheerful bartender. It had also been where he’d met James.

Leo had turned away, deliberately so, to finally make his way to work.

Now, he paused in front of Nate’s office and gathered his courage. Everyone else seemed to have gone out for lunch, but the quiet sound of clicking keys hinted that Nate hadn’t joined them, and… Shit, Leo needed to talk tosomeone. Kylie would have been the obvious choice, but while Kylie knew Leo’s past, she didn’t know Joshua. Nate did.

Taking a deep, measured breath, Leo entered without knocking. Nate glanced up sharply and relaxed when he recognised Leo. His smile was wide. “Oh, hey. Been wondering when you’d show up.”

“Yeah, well.” Leo shrugged one shoulder and moulded his expression into an approximation of normal and composed. He lowered himself into the chair facing Nate’s desk. “Some things on my mind. I kind of?—”

Nate interrupted him with, “So I think I was on a date with Mo.”

Whatever Leo had been planning to say escaped him. Nate looked so happy, all bright eyes and beaming grin, perched on the edge of his seatas he looked at Leo. A date. Yeah, that’s how these things should go: meet, date, fall in love and into bed.

“That’s…” Tentatively, Leo returned Nate’s grin. “Great. That’s really great. What happened?”

“After we left. Yesterday, I mean, when Mo and Tristan said that we should leave you and Joshua to talk. And then Tristan ditched us, so, yeah.” Nate picked up a pen and twirled it between his fingers, restless in a way that contrasted with his usual calm demeanour. His voice was soft. “We walked through Camden, just talking, basically. It was… nice, you know? Think I really like him a lot.”

“I’m happy for you,” Leo said. He meant it. Fuck, he did; if anyone deserved good things, it was Nate. That didn’t fully cancel out the spark of envy, though. Why couldn’t Leo have this one thing, too? Why didn’theget to keep Joshua?

Joshua had been so quick to assume that Leo didn’t want him, that Leo didn’t care—as though Joshua hadn’t expected any better. How did he not see just how stupid Leo was for him? But then, that was all on Leo, wasn’t it? He hadn’t been very open about the fact that he thought Joshua brilliant and lovely. He hadn’t been open in general.

Well, he’d paid a price.

“Hey,” Nate said suddenly, dropping the pen. “Isn’t that Joshua’s shirt?”

Leo snapped back to the present. “I borrowed it.”

“Oh?” Nate’s eyes narrowed, and his tone was openly curious, gaze clear on Leo’s face. “Last night? This morning? Is that why you were so late to the office? Wait, and what did you guys have to talk about, anyway?”

This was it. Leo’s opening.

“Nothing,” he said slowly. His stomach was churning around empty air, and right, he hadn’t actually eaten anything today, just a few sips of tea. “Just stuff. Shit, though, I totally forgot—we had that heads-up for some sketch on theLate Show. How did that go last night?”