by M. J. O'Shea
Christopher’s face fell. “I used to love it here. Things have been fairly strained between me and my parents.”
“Since when?”
“I think you know the answer to that.”
That had to be the stupidest thing he’d ever heard. August didn’t get it. “So you gave up on us and ruined your relationship with your family at the same time? What was the point of all of it, then?”
“I wish I knew.”
They’d finally made it back to the door of August’s room. He guessed it wasn’t too far from Christopher’s, although that wasn’t necessarily true. From what Christopher had said earlier, there were nearly thirty bedrooms in this house, and the guest quarters could be miles from his.
Christopher stopped and stared at August. “I know you’re having a hard time being here. I get it. This is really hard for me too, you know. I’m trying to live with my mistake and accept that you don’t want me, but every time I see you, all I want to do is kiss you.” He reached up and cupped August’s face.
August shivered at his touch, a touch that was still so familiar even though it had been a lifetime since the last one. “We shouldn’t do this,” he said. It was getting harder and harder to mean it. Christopher had been so attentive, so charming. He was still so beautiful, even more so, if that was possible, grown into his looks and burnished with time. August curled his hand around Christopher’s bicep.
“I know,” Christopher whispered. Then he closed the distance between them and kissed August.
It was perfect.
Christopher’s mouth felt like home, his kisses a memory from another time. August was a kid again, falling in love and dreaming of forever. He clutched Christopher’s arms and moaned into the kiss. Christopher deepened the kiss and ran his free hand down August’s back until he’d wrapped it around August’s hip. August shivered and leaned closer.
It was trouble, he knew damn well it was trouble, but it felt better than anything he’d felt since Christopher walked out of his life.
They finally broke apart, panting, and August shook his head to clear it. He stepped back and noticed Christopher reach for him.
“No,” August breathed. “I can’t do this.”
“I—”
“No.”
Then August slipped around his door, into the guest room, and closed the door behind him.
I need to fix this before I get my heart broken again. I need to make it go away.
“WILL, babe, can I talk to you?”
Will looked up from his desk in surprise. He had a pen stuck behind his ear, his two laptops open, and a few lists scattered across his desk. This was Will in work mode—which seemed deceptive if you saw him nearly any other time. He seemed like an overgrown university boy, but behind that facade was the guy who was called one of the best event planners in the city for a reason.
“What’s up?” Will asked. He gestured to the free chair in his office—the only one that wasn’t covered in piles of binders and folders.
“You want me to help you get this straightened up? I know how you get before a deadline.”
“That’s really why you came in here? To clean my office?” Will raised his blond eyebrows toward his hairline.
“Well, no. Obviously.”
“Then talk, love. You look like a wreck.”
“Great. Listen, I need a favor. A big one.”
“Always.” The best part about it was he really meant it. Will was the guy August could call for any emergency, and he was right there. Didn’t mean he was going to like this one.
“I need you to take over the Pritts-Shackleton wedding. I’ll trade you for whatever you’ve got going on. Everything else. I can’t do it anymore.”
Will stared at him, and August wasn’t surprised. It was the first time he’d ever in all their years together asked to quit an account and have someone else take over. It wasn’t in August’s nature. At least it hadn’t been.
“Why? Is she that bad?” Will shuddered.
“No. No. Libby is lovely, actually. It’s a long story.”
Will looked hurt. “You don’t have to tell me. I’ll do it. I want to help, mate.”
August did have to tell him. He and Will didn’t have secrets—at least other than Christopher. “I didn’t mean to keep it a secret. I just never wanted to talk about him again. I wanted to pretend he didn’t exist.”
“Who?”
“Christopher. Libby’s best mate. We used to be engaged.” Yeah, talk about ripping off the Band-Aid and a big chunk of skin along with it.
Will’s face went from confused to hurt back to confused again. “You? You were engaged to Mr. Tall, Sexy, and Richer than God?”
August chuckled. “He’s not that rich. Almost, but not quite.”
“Wait. Rewind. What happened?”
August shrugged. “Typical story. Boy meets boy. Boy falls in love with boy. Boy gets dumped because his fiancé decides his working-class American ass won’t fit into the fancy social scene he belongs to.”
“Wait. He snobbed you? That asshole. You’re the most amazing thing that could ever happen to anyone.”
August sighed and squished into Will’s chair. “Apparently not the most amazing thing to happen to twenty-one-year-old Christopher Burke. At least not amazing enough to try to keep me when his parents pressured him to end things.”
“And you’ve been working with him all this time?” Will looked horrified.
“He’s been really sweet, actually. He texts me a lot.” August realized he shouldn’t have said that. Neither Will, nor his family if they got wind of it, would be very impressed that Christopher was trying to wriggle his way back into August’s life.
“He shouldn’t be allowed to have your number.”
August knew Will would get all cave bear and protective. It was comforting in a way, but he was going to need Will to be professional around this guy. He had to pull back.
“I’ve never managed to change it. He only realized when he got my number from Libby that it was the same one I’ve had since we were together.”
He kept my number in his phone all these years. Every once in a while that hit August hard. It made resisting far less easy than it would’ve been if he’d never done that.
“And Libby knows about all of this?”
August shrugged. “I think she knows most of it, if not all. I never met her when he and I were together. I never met very many of his friends from before uni.”
“I wonder why.”
August knew Will hated when the “rich wankers,” as he so delicately put it, caused hurt by being, well, who they were. August knew the wounds went deep for him as well.
“You think you can be okay with him, Will? I’d have Louise take point on this one, but I don’t know if she’s ready to dive into the deep end with the sharks just yet.”
“No. I can do it. Fuck, I can’t believe you’ve been putting up with this since before Christmas. I’m sorry I foisted this account on you.”
“You didn’t know. Hell, I didn’t know until they walked in here.”
“So you were really engaged to him?” Will laughed sourly. “He looks like a goddamn prince, August. I can’t see you two together.”
August had to laugh a little with him. “It was a long time ago. He was different back then. I guess he’s grown more into his role as another master of the universe.” August shrugged. “I didn’t even know back then. I mean, I knew his family had some money, but I didn’t know it was castle-in-Cornwall rich. They have stables, Will. Stables.”
“When’s your next meeting with them?”
“In a week. I’m meeting them at Home House. Shockingly, Christopher is a member.” August chuckled at how nonshocking it was.
Will looked pretty horrified at the thought of walking through the door of one of London’s most exclusive and exclusionary private clubs. They’d been in places like that, sure, but most of the times meetings were on their turf, or at venues they rented and paid for.
“I’ll take the meeting. I’m sorry that guy hurt you, babe. I’d punch the hell out of him if he wasn’t sort of a client.”
“Oh, and I think Edward will be at this meeting. I met him last weekend down in Longwick.”
“Is he nice?”
“I don’t think he deserves Libby. He’s kind of, well, he’s kind of like the guys Christopher knew from Eton back at school. We didn’t hang out with them much. They were harmless but a bit up their own asses.”
“Sounds about right.” Will made a face. “So boring up-his-own-ass Edward, charming Libby, and the guy I want to kill.”
“Maybe he won’t be there.”
“I seriously hope he is.”
CHRISTOPHER met Libby—since Edward had, not so surprisingly, backed out at the last minute—at the club for a bit of tea before their meeting with August. He didn’t know if it was a bad idea to bring August here after the way they left things. His answers when Christopher texted were short and not that grudging friendliness that they’d started to work on.
“You’re so nervous, aren’t you?” Libby asked. She put her hand over Christopher’s and squeezed.
“I can’t help it. It’s been a disaster every time I’ve seen him, but all I want to do is see him more. I know I’m meant to be this stoic rock of a man but—”
“That was never you, babe. Anyone who thinks it should be, never knew you at all.”
Which made nearly everyone Christopher ever met. On the surface, he’d managed to maintain the image—sophisticated, a bit cold, hard to please. Beneath it, he was still that dorky, awkward boy who’d fallen in love at eighteen and never looked back. He liked that person so much more than the one everyone in his social circle knew. He just didn’t think they’d like the real him nearly as much. Somehow, though, if he had the chance to be with August again he didn’t think he’d care.
One of the hosts for the club came over and stood next to his and Libby’s area that they’d camped in near the fire. “Mr. Burke, the representative from Helena Preston is here to meet you.”
Christopher’s whole body suddenly stood on edge. He couldn’t contain his hopeful grin. “Thanks. Please show him in.”
It was only about a minute later when the wrong person, definitely the wrong person, wove his way through the lounge they were seated in and joined them in the empty leather wing chair. Christopher thought he detected a slight—or not so slight—chill coming his way from the man, but he was too confused and disappointed to really focus on it.
“I’m Will Chambers, August’s team partner.” Will smiled winningly at Libby. “I apologize for the inconvenience, but August has recently gotten a number of large events on his roster. I’m going to take over this one for him. He’s briefed me fully, and I think we can hit the ground running.”
A number of large events. Right. More like August didn’t want to see him anymore. Didn’t want to see him in the first place and finally decided he’d had enough of it. It hurt more than Christopher could’ve imagined. Was that it? Was he never going to see August again unless he forced the issue?
“It’s nice to meet you finally, Will,” Libby said.
“Nice to meet you,” Christopher echoed. He thought Will might have given him a bit of a glare before he grudgingly reached out and shook his hand, but he wasn’t sure. One thing he was sure of—Will definitely had been told why he had to take over for August. And he didn’t like it.
Libby looked confused at first, but she warmed up to Will quickly. He was friendly and very good at his job, had a charming smile, and was easy to get along with. It wasn’t right, though. Not for him, and not for Libby either. He knew his oldest friend. She was the type who got attached to people, and while she might like the charming blond with a hint of North in his accent, he wasn’t the August she’d fallen for already. She might learn to like Will just as much, but it wouldn’t be the same. Christopher didn’t want Libby to suffer because of what he’d done. He needed to fix it.
“Will, I don’t think you two need me here. Do you know if August is still at your offices? I have a few follow-up questions to go over with him,” Christopher asked. He tried to keep his voice calm and low. Follow-up questions his arse. He needed to make a stand.
Will gave him a sharp look. He definitely knew Christopher was lying. He was also well trained and obviously didn’t want to be outright rude to a client—or at least a client’s best friend. “I believe he’ll be there for a few minutes. He’s leaving early today.”
Christopher waited for another sentence, but Will clearly didn’t mean to say why August was leaving. Will gave him another long look before he turned to smile at Libby.
“Would you want to talk about flowers now? I have pictures of the great hall, and I have some ideas for garlands that I think you might like in the ceremony.”
Libby nodded but glanced at Christopher with concern. Christopher nodded slightly and then stood. He was going to get Libby her August back.
“If you two will excuse me. Libby darling, just have them put anything you and Will order onto my account. I’ll leave the car for you when you want to get home. I think I’ll walk tonight.”
Libby nodded again, but she had to be shocked. Christopher rarely just strolled around London. He didn’t see the point of looking at buildings and shops. He’d have left the city years ago if he could have talked Libby and Edward into moving out to the countryside. He was starting to think he might be doing it soon anyway.
IT didn’t take long to walk from Home House to Helena Preston, and by the time he got there, Christopher realized he didn’t have any idea what to say. He had to try, though. So he pushed into the office and asked if he could meet with August. August was apparently in his office and alone, so he was led back.
“What are you doing here?” was the first thing August said to him. It wasn’t accusatory. Exactly. But he sure didn’t seem very happy to see Christopher either.
“You have to know why I’m here. What can I do?”
August sighed. “Christopher, this wasn’t working out. I just… can’t keep torturing myself.”
“Things were going well between us.” Until you took August home and he realized your parents had never even known his name. Until you took it way too far and kissed him in the hallway like you were starving and he was the juiciest steak on the menu.
“It was going well,” August agreed. “But we all know that was an illusion. We don’t fit in the same world, and if it’s okay with you, I’d rather not be an employee at your house. It’s too painful. It still hurts, Christopher.”
“It hurts me too. Do you know how it felt to look up and see someone else today at the club? I’d been hoping to see you for days. I want—”
“I can’t do this.”
“Listen, what if this is about Libby and not me? I’ll leave you alone. I’ll stay out of the wedding preparation. Then Longwick is just a venue, and you can go back to being the best event planner in the city. Without me hanging around.”
It was obviously the last thing Christopher wanted, but he had to do what was best for Libby. August looked like he was in pain. Christopher wanted to wrap his arms around him and never let him go, breathe him in and just hold him. He’d nearly forgotten how good August smelled over the years, just whiffs of scents here and there would remind him. But being so close to him, it all came rushing back.
“Will’s just as good as me. He’ll do an amazing job.”
“He’s great, but she’s bonded with you already,” Christopher said. “She adores you. Please, just take me out of the equation. She’s my best friend. I don’t want to ruin her wedding for her.”
August looked frustrated. “It won’t be ruined, for Christ’s sake. Don’t be so dramatic.”
“August. Please. Just….” He took out his phone and pulled up August’s contact. “I’ll step away, and you can pretend I never existed.” He deleted August’s number from his phone. It stung like hell. That number had been his lifeline
for so long when he figured he’d never see August again.
“I’ll get rid of the messages too. I’m done. Gone. I won’t try to get closer to you anymore.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“Because I’m in love with you, obviously. I always have been, and I always will be. It took me about ten seconds to realize that back in December. But I love Libby too, and I want what’s best for both of you. If me stepping away is it, then so be it. It’s done. Please go back to the job. I won’t be in your way.”
Christopher stood and left the room. He didn’t look back at August. He couldn’t. Because if he did, he’d take it all back.
Chapter Six
IT had been three days since Christopher had come to him in the office—three sleepless, distracted days. August looked like a mess, he was sure. He couldn’t concentrate on work, he barely ate, and he spent most of his free hours pacing his flat. Will had tried to talk to him about it, Louise too, after August had finally caved and filled her in on the basic details. Neither of them could tell him what to do about Christopher, other than Will’s general and typical sentiment of “Fuck that bastard.”
August couldn’t stop thinking of the kiss or of Christopher’s heartbroken voice when he said he still loved August. No matter what he did—exercise, work himself to exhaustion or at least try—nothing worked. The only thing he could think about was Christopher. He was a mess. August didn’t do well with messes.
He decided action needed to be taken. He called Libby, because the thought of calling Christopher at the moment made him want to heave.
“Hi. This is August, right?” Libby said as a greeting.
“Hey, yes. This is me.”
“How are you, sweetie?” Libby asked right away.