Page 98 of Wear It Like a Crown

After a quick thank you, Leo angled himself away from the sales clerk to face Nate properly. The airport was bustling around them, travellers rushing to and fro, announcements from the speakers reminding them not to leave their baggage unattended. Leo rather doubted anyone wanted to mess with his hastily packed suitcase—but anyway. £1,290.

He cleared his throat. “Can I just reiterate that you do not have to come along? This isn’t a bargain, right, and I can do it on my own because I’m a strong, independent man and all that shit. You know, maybe it’s the kind of thing Ishouldbe doing on my own.”

“You’ve been doing things on your own your whole life.” The corners of Nate’s mouth curved up. “Also, who said I’m going for you, mate? Mo actually asked me to come along, like, this morning.”

That was news to Leo. Unsurprising news, but news all the same.

He pressed the side of his foot against Nate’s. “You’re boyfriends, then? All proper and official, making an honest man out of you? Do I need to give him the you-hurt-him-I-kill-you best friend talk?”

Nate scoffed. “Hate to break it to you, but you’re not that scary.”

“Excuse you, I am bloody terrifying. You’re probably just jaded, been up against super spies or something, so I don’t think you’re a good judge here.” After another second’s pause, Leo nodded and turned back to the clerk, sliding his new passport across the counter. “We’ll take them. Thank you.” Then he turned back to Nate and added a slightly belated, “Hey. Happy for you, man.”

“Kind of happy for myself.” Nate didn’t sound smug, just honest.

“At your next class reunion, you can totally brag about dating a supermodel. Stick it to the arseholes who bullied you.”

“Not what it’s about at all.” With a snort, Nate shook his head. His attention was on Leo’s passport when the clerk opened it, a beat of silence spiralling out as he appeared to study the information upside down. Birth date and place of birth, family name—not the one Leo had made his own and which had come to fit like a well-worn glove, but the one he’d grown up with.

Austin,Leo Troy.

Nate seemed to roll the name around his mouth, test it out in his head, before he nudged their hips together, voice low. “Leo Troy Austin,huh. Sounds weird, mate. Is it the kind of fancy name that could get us into that extra-special lounge here? Like, the one where we met the others this morning?”

That extra-special lounge where Joshua had looked at Leo with disappointment in his eyes and heaviness in his voice.I wish it could be easy.

Leo shook himself free of a memory that felt like an open cut. “Most certainly not. As much as my parents liked to pretend otherwise, we weren’t that important. Definitely not important enough to be on the shortlist for the Windsor Lounge back when it was invitation only. Barely even important enough to have heard the rumours about it.” Sending Nate a lopsided grin, he assumed a posh air. “And anyway, things have gone downhill now that they let in just anyone who’ll pay the price. Riff raff, really. Actors, nouveau-riche,thosesorts of people. Anyone who wants to avoid contact with the travelling public, basically.”

“Really?” Nate processed the information, then twitched one shoulder, suddenly serious. “As the guy by Joshua’s side, you just might become that kind of person.”

Hope flared bright in Leo’s chest, untemperedwantat the mere idea of getting to do that, be that—the guy by Joshua’s side. It was tainted by a burst of unease at the truth of what Nate had said. If Joshua wanted him, Leo would become a public figure.

If.

Leo focused his gaze on the countertop. “But I’m not that guy,” he said softly.

“Yet,” Nate told him.

The flare refused to die. Leo took a deep breath while the clerk was clacking away. “Yet,” he confirmed, and it felt as though his entire body expanded with that one word.

* * *

Joshua had spent part of the flight curled into Mo or Tristan’s side, pretending to doze. The rest of the time he’d watched episodes ofGame of Thrones, mostly because they reminded him of Leo. He was pathetic.

It was early evening when they touched down in Rio de Janeiro and were shuffled out of the airport, through a private exit straight into a waiting car. The time difference to London was only a few hours, but each one weighed like a brick on Joshua’s shoulders.

“Hotel?” he asked. “Or if the two of you already want to go exploring tonight… Don’t stay in on my account.”

“A swim in the pool sounds nice,” Mo said.

Nodding, Tristan reached over to twine his fingers with Joshua’s. “Then order in some food and enjoy it in one of our rooms. Whoever has the terrace with the nicest view wins. We can watch the sun set over the ocean. It’ll be romantic and shit.”

All Joshua wanted was to fall into a deep, dreamless sleep and wake up tomorrow having forgotten all about Leo. Since that wasn’t an option, a platonic date with his two best friends was the next best thing.

“Will there be wine?” he asked.

“There’ll be Caipirinhas,” Tristan said firmly.

Joshua squeezed Tristan’s hand and worked up a smile. Outside the car, palm trees bent in the wind. The clear blue of the sky was dotted with white, fluffy clouds, the evening sun casting everything in warm hues. From a distance, Rio de Janeiro gleamed like a promise. The difference to London couldn’t have been more striking.