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Alex ducked his head. “I’m taking Joshua’s word for it.”
“Why would someone like him get involved?”
“There are some thirty dukes in the UK, and less than a hundred hereditary peers in the House of Lords.” Alex paused, voice lower when he continued. “This is a big deal, Lee. It could reflect on the aristocracy as a whole.”
On people like you. On you.
“Ifit’s true,” Lee said.
“They would have made sure it is.”
“Have you asked your dad?”
“No. I mean, fuck—what would I even say? ‘Hi, dad, been hanging out with some suspicious characters lately?’” The line of Alex’s mouth flattened. “I’m not all that close to them—my parents, I mean. But they’re still myparents. You know?”
“I get it.”
“Yeah.” Alex’s brows drew together. “I guess you would. So, you know. All I did was go to my hotel room and try not to throw up, until I realised I needed to show my face at the party—at least briefly.”
They were quiet for a few moments, an echo of the earlier crowd’s noise still ringing faintly in Lee’s ears, the thunder of ten thousand voices when he’d scored his first goal. It was disorienting, his mind pulled in three directions by Alex’s news mixed with an alert kind of exhaustion, a weird hollowness that lingered after the adrenaline had drained.
“Anyway,” Alex said softly, “could be that my phone is tapped. Left it in my room.”
It cut through the scattered commotion in Lee’s brain. “Wait, you think your phone is tapped?”
“I’m not a suspect or anything, I think.” Alex paused. “But I’m close to it, at least on paper, and this is the royal family—they don’t work with amateurs.”
Fuck, that was…
Fuck.
Alex didn’t deserve this. He did not fuckingdeserveto be caught in the wake of his father’s decisions, sink or swim. This time, when Lee reached for Alex, he didn’t let go—pulled Alex into an embrace that Alex fought for just a moment before he sagged into it with a shuddery exhale against Lee’s neck. Oh God, Lee loved him.
He—shit. He didn’t, no. They were temporary, weren’t built to last. Love had never been part of their deal.
“You know what’s funny?” Breathing through the nausea, Lee tightened his arms around Alex. “You do like your political thrillers. Now you’re living one.”
Alex’s laugh was weak and a little watery. “Turns out I prefer the theory.”
I think I’m a little bit in love with you.
Lee swallowed around the shards of glass in his throat. “Do you know when the story will break?”
“Not exactly.” Alex straightened a little, his gaze focused on a point just above Lee’s shoulder, his distant tone at odds with the heaviness that hung around him like a cloak. “They’ll hand the evidence to the police tomorrow, and then it’s all bets off, I guess.”
“Will your dad be stripped of his title?” Not that Lee cared, but it seemed like a thing that might matter to some people. In fact, Alex wasn’t an earl in his own right, was he? There were rules about that sort of thing, and until Charles Beaufort died, Alex was merely borrowing his father’s secondary title.
“I don’t know.” Alex lifted one shoulder, still gazing at nothing. “I don’t think that really happens anymore but… I mean, maybe? I don’t know.”
He sounded so lost that Lee’s heart ached just a little for him. They were still touching, turned towards each other on the diwan with Lee’s knee digging into the side of Alex’s thigh, and all Lee wanted to do was pull Alex back in and hide him from the world, at least for a day or two. Or a week, a month—until the dust started to settle.
It wasn’t Lee’s place, though.
He circled Alex’s wrist in a loose grip and waited until Alex looked at him. “You know I’m here, right? Whatever you need.”
Alex blinked a few times, voice rough. “Thank you.”
“Ofcourse, Alex.” Lee let the words sit for a moment before he asked, “What are you going to do?”
