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Not when Jameson stands next to Esme, an arm slung around her shoulders.
To make matters worse, it seems as if everyone likes him, all the people I once considered close friends hanging onto his every word as he tells some story about almost getting shot while exploring old military barracks during a humanitarian mission in Vietnam. I temper my remarks that only an idiot would go snooping around a military compound in Vietnam. If anyone else was telling the story, I’d probably find it fascinating. Being a military history buff myself, I wouldn’t have been able to resist the temptation, either.
But because it’s Jameson, the man Esme’s supposed to marry, it irks me.
He irks me.
“It’s about time you got here, you wanker!” Anderson exclaims upon seeing me, taking the attention off Jameson.
Good.
Everyone looks my way, smiles lighting up their faces. It’s almost like a grade school reunion, at least for me. I haven’t seen most of these people since I left for basic training. But it appears they all see each other often.
Which makes the feeling that I don’t belong here even stronger.
I try not to let my brother’s words eat at me. Regardless of what he says, I’d like to think my friendship with Anderson goes beyond any class lines.
But as I take in everyone I once considered friends, it’s obvious one of these things is not like the other.
Me.
I went into the military immediately after graduation. They probably traveled, saw the world.
I don’t come from money. While my father has a respectable job and has always provided for his family, we’re middle class. Everyone else, apart from Jameson, holds some sort of peerage title. Although in a few months, he won’t merely hold a peerage title. He’ll become a prince.
But as Anderson approaches me, Jameson’s story now long forgotten, none of our differences seem to matter. He embraces me like I’m one of them. Like I belong here just as much as he does. They all do.
Maybe this is why Anderson was so desperate to get away. Despite his position in the line of succession, no one here has ever treated him any differently. Hell, they typically refuse to even bring up the fact he’s royalty. They act as if he’s just another schmuck off the street.
Another schmuck whose family owns a ridiculously opulent beachfront property.
“Fuck me as I live and breathe. Creed Lawson grew up.”
I smile at the petite redhead as she saunters up to me. “Hey, Mags.” I lean down, kissing her cheek. “How’ve you been?”
“Good. Working at an investment firm in London these days. But when Anderson reached out and guilt-tripped me into taking time off to come to the beach, I figured I was due a vacation.”
“That bloke pretty much guilt-tripped all of us,” a lanky blond interjects, slapping Anderson on the back.
“I’m sorry to inconvenience you, Jasper,” Anderson jokes. “Feel free to leave anytime.”
Jasper shrugs. “I’m already here. May as well make the best of it.”
“Because this place is so horrible,” a tall brunette says with a wink before looking my way, pressing a friendly kiss to my cheek. “Great to have you back, Lawson.”
“Thanks, Penny. It’s good to be back. At least for a minute.”
She furrows her brow. “I thought you were back for good. Didn’t you finish your military service?”
“I’m done with special teams,” I confirm.
“But—”
“He’s slated to be inducted into the guard soon,” Marius pipes up, heading toward me and shaking my hand before pulling me in for a quick bro hug. “Good to see you, Lawson.” He steps back. “Although technically, Harri and I saw you a few weeks ago when we were having tea with Esme. Didn’t we, Harri?”
The slender woman with nearly jet-black hair joins us. “We sure did.” Harriet gives me a mischievous grin before glancing over her shoulder. “Isn’t that right, Esme?”
When she calls her name, I swallow hard, heat prickling my skin. Several protracted moments pass, and it feels like everyone is watching to see how we handle being in the same room again.
