Page 84 of Wear It Like a Crown

“Finally fitting puzzle pieces together,” Joshua said, still in that broken whisper. His gaze was glued to Leo’s face. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

“Yes.” It was out before Leo could stop himself, before he couldthink. “You’re right.”

He was still disoriented from the aftershock when Joshua was suddenly there, right there, all up in Leo’s space and pulling him into a rough embrace. Warm and real, and all Leo could do was sag into him, fighting to breathe. Something quivered in his stomach, a spark of brightness, and oh God, Joshua knew. Joshua knew, and he was still here. Leo should be scared, should be fuckingterrifiedthat Joshua would figure out the rest, but right now, there was nothing but deep relief thrumming in Leo’s veins.

Turning his face into Joshua’s neck, he inhaled deeply. He didn’t dare bring up his arms to pull Joshua closer, everything too fragile and uncertain, his sense of balance destroyed.

Again, it was Joshua who broke the silence. “You know what I also remembered? Like, just now. So you were a noble, and, like…” His words ghosted across Leo’s temple, rumbling in his stomach and making it difficult to focus on what Joshua was saying. “There was this teacher at Eton, like, the bloke who coached the football team? His name was Graham. And maybe it’s a coincidence, but—I didn’t really come to the games, but I just remembered that—I’m probably imagining this?”

Leo forced himself to hold still. Behind his lids, everything was dark and calm, and the room finally stopped spinning. His voice sounded frayed though. “Imaginingwhat?”

“One of the strikers…” Joshua hesitated, time suspended. “I think he was called Leo. And he looked a bit like you, I think. Like, mainly the eyes. There was an interview inThe Chronicle.I must have been, like, fifteen because it was just after I’d realised I kind of liked guys. And I actually—I looked for the guy in the hallways, but?—”

“I’d already left,” Leo interrupted. Then Joshua’s words caught up with him, the way he’d sounded a little embarrassed, and… Joshua had looked for him in the hallways?

“So you really did attend Eton?” Joshua pulled back, enough so that he could stare at Leo. He looked astonished, eyes big and so green, lips parted just slightly. Leo wanted to kiss him. Always, always.

Leo swallowed. “I was certain you wouldn’t recognise me. I’ve changed a lot, and I was two years above you and Tristan. Also, we moved in different circles, and there were way more than a thousand boys at Eton, so…” It felt as though Leo’s skin might peel off—just break open at the seams and come down, like old wallpaper. Still Joshua was staring at him, and after a moment, Leo continued. “When I arrived in London, I didn’t have much use for a last name that was easy to connect to a noble title, you know? Not that I had much use for a last name in general, but—anyway. Coach Graham, he’d always been kind. I was a bit of a troublemaker in class, and Graham was… There weren’t that many adults who took me seriously. So whenever I needed a full name… It made sense to pick something positive.”

It had felt strange at first, and Leo had practised his signature on scraps of paper until it hadn’t looked quite so childish anymore, until it had come easily. He still remembered the first time he’d used it on an official form, how worried he’d been in spite of James’ promise of a clean slate.

“That’s so—Jesus.” Slowly, Joshua shook his head. One of his hands was still resting on Leo’s shoulder, and Leo abruptly remembered that he was sweaty and dirty. He probably looked a mess.

He took a step to the side and scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Sorry,” he said. “I was playing football ‘cause it’s what I do when everything else sucks. Now I got you all…” He didn’t finish, simply gestured at Joshua’s silk shirt, unbuttoned over a blue T-shirt. Fuck, he looked good.

Joshua blinked, gaze tracking down Leo’s body and lingering on his thighs. Distant heat collected in Leo’s stomach, and maybe they could…? Just once more, justonce.

“Did you really have a crush on me?” Joshua asked into Leo’s thoughts. “At Eton?”

Leo swallowed around what he hoped would pass for a self-deprecating grin. “It was abstract. I didn’t know you back then, so it wasn’t very… real. Mostly I just saw you in the hallways, and you were famous and really bloody cute, seemed nice enough. I suppose I projected things onto you.” For a moment, Leo paused, considering. He’d revealed so much already, and there was one thing that he wouldn’t—that hecouldn’treveal, but… everything else was fair game. Joshua deserved whatever truth Leo could offer.

Leo’s lungs felt too full, ready to burst, as though he’d been underwater for a while and was desperate to break the surface.Joshua deserves this.

“Back then,” Leo said quietly, “I didn’t know you. Now I do, and that’s why I’m in love with you.”

Joshua’s head shot up, cheeks flushing. “You’re in love with me?” Surprise shone clear through his voice, and then his eyes brightened, so much hope. Oh shit, what had Leo done? He never should have said that.

“It doesn’t matter,” he croaked. Still he couldn’t look away from Joshua.

“Of course it matters,” Joshua said, so utterly convinced, a smile starting to spread across his face as he moved to reach for Leo.

Leo took a clean step back. He hated the way Joshua’s smile dropped, hated himself for being the cause of it. If this was the price Leo paid for his past mistakes, why did Joshua have to pay along with him? Why, when they could have been so fuckinggoodtogether?

Prince Joshua of Wales could never date a former rent boy. The public would rip them to shreds.

“It really, really doesn’t make a difference,” Leo told him, and his voice broke halfway through, ended up as no more than a harsh whisper.

For the longest time, Joshua simply stood there, staring at Leo asthough he was trying to see past Leo’s skin and unravel the mess of heart and lungs and veins underneath. Then his gaze dropped, lips pressing together briefly. His words came out slightly unfocused. “Because you’re scared of what the public would say about us? You’re the one who told me to wear my secrets like armour, remember?”

Leo felt his throat constrict around the thick, wet pressure of tears. He forced them back down. “This is different. It wouldn’t end well, trust me.”

“You’re still holding something back. You’re always holding something back.” Joshua exhaled, loud in the overwhelming stillness. “Do you want to know the difference between you and me? I’m scared, but I’m doing it anyway. You’re just scared.”

There was nothing Leo could say. He clenched his jaw and looked away, at the woollen light trickling out of the kitchen.

“And,” Joshua added after five seconds, or ten, or a century, “you say you’re in love with me. But why should I believe you when you don’t act like it? When you don’t even trust me?”

“You wouldn’t like the truth.” Leo’s throat felt sandpaper-rough. “All you need to know is that I couldn’t possibly be with you. Not in the way you deserve.”