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Their match against the US was such a case. They won, three goals to the Americans scoring one against them, but there’d been minutes here and there when the English defence had looked vulnerable, when Lee hadn’t been able to shake off the guy who’d been tasked with marking him, when the timing of Alex’s passes had been off by just a tenth of a second. And then there’d been that stretch right at the beginning of the second half when everything justclicked, two goals in nine minutes that kept their dream alive.
“I look forward to collecting my prize,” Alex told Lee in a murmur, the locker room in a riot.
Lee shot him a dirty smile. “Arguably not as much as me.”
Alex’s reply got cut off when some security type of person entered to announce the impending arrival of His Royal Highness Prince Joshua, and could everyone please ensure an appropriate state of dress? Shorts and jerseys, please, no bare chests.
Well, that sucked. As Lee grabbed his jersey off the bench, he tried to hide his annoyance—not at the prince and his entourage, but at the fact that this appeared to be a necessary precaution. It was fairly common for heads of state and other political figures to visit locker rooms of their respective national teams after matches, naked torsos and all, and that held true even if the head of state happened to be a woman. But a gay prince? Uh-oh, better hide those athletic bodies so the media doesn’t smell a story where none exists.
It made a sad sort of sense.
They were all presentable by the time Prince Joshua made his grand entrance along with his husband and a couple of friends, including a model Lee recognised from an ad campaign for some cologne. The prince carried himself with the kind of posture that reminded Lee of Alex—shoulders back and head held high, a likely result of the kind of training Alex had received too. Maybe it was what they taught at posh school, along with the Queen’s English.
The prince’s speech was short and sweet, his voice somehow quieter than Lee had expected, “congratulations” and “we’re all rooting for you back home” and “it’s a real pleasure to see this team coming together”. He made the rounds afterwards, as did his husband and friends. Lee was surprised to find that the Prince Consort—“Leo, please”—held rather astute opinions on their next opponent, listing several French key players who had yet to hit their peak form so if there ever had been a time for miracles, it was now. When Alex joined their discussion, he and Leo exchanged a greeting that confirmed what Alex had told Lee, namely that he’d met the prince and his husband before, and that they were on friendly but superficial terms.
Thiswas Alex’s world. Lee had almost forgotten, over the course of the last few weeks.
He might have gone a bit quiet after that because Alex tried to rope him into the conversation multiple times, Lee contributing just enough to pass cursory inspection. He wasn’t prepared for Prince Joshua himself to slot into their circle, personally congratulating Alex on his clever moves and beautiful passing before he turned to Lee. Christ, even in his thirties, the prince maintained the boyish kind of charm that had made him popular with the general public, until his coming out had separated the wheat from the chaff. Maybe he wasn’t quite as pretty as Alex, but few guys were and Lee was biased.
“Gorgeous goal,” Prince Joshua said in that slightly husky drawl of his. “Your second one, I mean—someone should nominate you for a royal award. As far as I’m concerned, that was a real service to the country.”
Lee blinked. The prince’s deep, slow voice made it hard to tell whether he was joking, and a glance at Alex didn’t provide Lee with any clues. “Thank you, I think?”
Blessedly, Leo laughed, blue eyes dancing as he leaned forward as if to share a secret. “Do ignore him. He’s nowhere near as funny as he thinks he is.”
“I’m very funny,” Prince Joshua protested, but the tug of amusement around his wide mouth suggested he didn’t actually mind. “Everyone says so.”
Leo snorted. “That’s because they’ve been paid to stroke your ego, love. Me, I do it for free.”
“You don’t stroke my ego.”
“I stroke other things,” Leo said with a waggle of his eyebrows that clearly conveyed his meaning, and this was … awkward? Not really, no. Unexpected, more like, because somehow Lee hadn’t counted on Prince Joshua and his husband to act like a normal couple. Must be the familiarity of Alex’s presence that humanised them.
Lee glanced at Alex just as Alex glanced at him, a quick smile passing between them.
“I apologise for Leo,” the prince said, all dignity. “Anyway, seriously—great game. Seems like the team is really coming together this time around.”
“It feels like it,” Alex said.
“Good.” Prince Joshua seemed to hesitate for a fraction of a second, his eyes weighing Alex. “Listen, Alexander, it’s been a while since we got to catch up. How about Leo and I give you a ride to your hotel, have a little chat?”
The way Alex’s brows puckered suggested that this was quite outside the realm of what he’d expected. His gaze slid to Lee, just for a moment, before he returned his attention and smile to the prince. “Sure, that would be great. Thanks for the offer.”
“Our pleasure,” Leo replied in Prince Joshua’s stead, and something about the careful focus he directed at Alex prompted a flare of unease in Lee’s stomach.
Something wasn’t right.
But whatever it was, Lee could hardly insist on coming along for the ride, now could he? Also, Prince Joshua had a reputation for being kind, even sweet, which… Okay, which maybe didn’t mean all that much, could be just the mask he presented to the public. That wasn’t the impression Lee had got, though, and Alex seemed more confused than concerned, so maybe it was some nobility thing that Lee simply didn’t understand.
He still didn’t like it when Alex left ten minutes later, trailing in the wake of the prince’s entourage. It would be fine, though—Lee would see Alex back at the hotel, and they’d keep their hands to themselves during the afterparty and would probably fall into bed overtired, too exhausted for more than a slow, lazy snog.
Lee couldn’t wait.
12
The armoured limousine moved through the night like a ship, tinted windows hiding the world. Shifting in his seat opposite Joshua and Leo, Alex waited for them to kick off the conversation. Of course he’d talked to them before—they were actual football fans, with Leo holding particularly strong opinions on teams he liked and didn’t—but it had always been in passing, a few bites of small talk at a social event. This was different, and Alex wasn’t entirely certain of the protocol.
It was Leo who broke the silence, his attention heavy on Alex even as the shadowed interior of the car swallowed all details. “How do you feel about Qatar?”
