Page 31 of The Himbo and the Lord

He looks fucking delicious in his perfectly tailored gray shirt with a blue blazer over it.

Effortlessly elegant, that’s who he is, and I’m...

I stand without thinking, and without thinking about the fact that he’s right next to Chase.

I remember my manners only a step before I reach them.

“Hello, Mr. Knightly.”

Chase turns with an easy smile, that turns into a smirk when he recognizes me. He throws an arm around my neck and messes up my hair.

“Stop thatMr. Knightlyshit, Nate.”

I’d be snorting with laughter normally, but this time I can only manage a chuckle as I see Ru’s eyes widen and his whole body tense.

“I couldn’t resist,” I protest, keeping up the ruse, I suppose.

“How’s your dad?” he asks as he lets me go. I buy time by making a show of patting down my hair.

“He’s good, as always,” I answer truthfully, and to avoid him asking me any more questions, I turn to look at Ru.

“Where are my manners? Nathaniel Waterford, this is Rupert Cardew, he?—”

“We met in Sydney,” I interrupt rudely, but I don’t think Chase minds since he’s staring with his mouth slightly open and his gaze bouncing from Ru to me. “Could I have a moment?” I ask Ru, figuring politeness is my best bet here.

The moment it takes for him to answer seems infinite. It’s at least long enough for me to see anger come ferociously into his eyes and then flash away only to be replaced by a blank stare.

“Of course,” he says quietly, then smiles brilliantly at Chase. “If you’ll excuse us.”

“Yeah, sure. Of course,” Chase says hurriedly, and I swear I could kiss him with gratitude. But then Ru pats his arm and smiles at him a bit more genuinely, and I... I don’t like that.

Without looking directly at me, Ru turns to walk into the living room on this level of the yacht, and I just follow.

My friends all make some type of gesture of encouragement as we pass by them, though Tony’s mimicking of a hand job is definitely unwarranted, the asshole. I follow Ru along, down the stairs and into a bedroom.

The bed gives me pause, and I have to shake my head to get rid of the memories of us in a similar bed.

“Ru, I want to?—”

“Only my friends get to call me Ru,” he interrupts in a sharp tone. I suck in a breath. Okay, I deserve that. I just need to carry on.

“I’m sorry.” I decide that’s the best place to start. “I’m sorry for being such an asshole at the club last night. I was scared, and I didn’t tell my friends about you in Sydney because I knew they’d see how much I—” Fuck, why can’t I just fuckingsayit?! “How much you?—”

“Just get on with it,” he snaps.

“I’m sorry for pretending I didn’t know you. Of course I remember you. I’ve spent the whole week thinking about you and wishing I’d asked for your number, wishing we could?—”

“Am I seriously supposed to believe that?” he demands.

“Yes,” I urge. I need to say it. I need to make him understand. I need him toknow. “I swear. I knew if I told my friends about you they’d know instantly how much I liked you. They’d know that you’re different to any other man before and that I?—”

“Really?” he asks, a sneer marring his pretty face. “Am I so different to the waiter?”

And that’s enough to break my composure.

“There was no waiter for fuck’s sake!” I shout, out of patience now, though I know all of this is my fault. “I haven’t slept with anyone since the first night I met you. I haven’t touched another man, or kissed another man, Ru. I swear to you, please believe me. I understand if you can’t forgive me, I do, but please believe me when I tell you that. You’re all I’ve been able to think about and all I want, so please?—”

He looks away and I see him wince. Why is he wincing?

---