“Kyle,” Liam said, not taking his eyes off Rupert. “Where’s your other half?”
“You mean the one less likely to shoot someone?”
“Jamie has never hesitated to take a shot.”
“Yeah, us Americans are just a trigger-happy bunch. He’s talking with your grandmother.”
“In which case, we must be off.”
Oliver let himself be led away from Rupert, some part of him relishing the confused and vaguely embarrassed expression on the other man’s face. He was acutely aware of the pressure of Liam’s hand against the small of his back as Liam guided him through the crowd in Kyle’s wake. Oliver thought about pulling away, but the quiet conversation he initiated was better had while walking beside each other.
“I didn’t need your help back there,” Oliver said, pitching his voice low beneath the buzz of the crowd.
Liam’s hazel eyes flickered in his direction, the muted anger in them easy enough for Oliver to read. “He had no right to talk to you like that.”
“He’s done it plenty of times before and I’ve handled it. That could have easily devolved into an argument the public didn’t need to see.”
Liam rocked to a halt, forcing Oliver to stop as well. “What do you mean he’s done that before?”
Oliver couldn’t stop the shiver that snaked down his spine from the dangerous tone in Liam’s voice. “Please don’t pretend you don’t know what sort of person Rupert is. He’s your friend, after all.”
“We haven’t been friends in years. What’s been going on between you two?”
Oliver shook his head, not sure how to feel about Liam defending him and acting like he didn’t know about all the shit he’d put up with over the years from the people circling the royal family.
“It’s not any of your business.”
“Oliver—”
“I need to get to work.”
Oliver stepped away from the safety of Liam’s touch, peeling off into the crowd around them. He wasn’t sure how to feel about Liam coming to his defense, so he focused on the mission. It was easier than thinking about the sturdy warmth of Liam’s touch.
* * *
“So therewasa bet,”Kyle stated, giving Liam a side-eyed look as they walked through the crowd back toward where they’d left his family.
Liam glanced over his shoulder in the direction Oliver had disappeared. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Sounds like you need to do some groveling.”
“Kyle.”
“Yeah, yeah. That’s your mess, not mine.”
Liam tried not to scowl, jaw tightening before he forced his muscles to relax. He wasn’t angry at Kyle but the situation he hadunexpectedly walked into. Rupert’s appearance had been a surprise, as had the cutting words Liam had overheard being exchanged. The last time Liam had spoken with Rupert had been a year and a half ago. The conversation at a charity gala had been brief. Liam had gone to the event to track further Pavluhkin outreach amongst the rich, but Rupert’s family had never been targeted.
Liam had realized that night, surrounded by old acquaintances and friends, that the lives they led held little to no interest for him. Spending hours in a club night after night was a waste of time compared to the missions Liam had run over the years. He’d left with no desire to keep up with some of the friendships, which was why he’d been too busy for Rupert ever since. The scene Liam had walked into just now had ensured he would cut Rupert out of whatever social circle they shared.
Oliver’s words had implied the taunting hadn’t been a one-off, and Liam clenched his hand into a fist. Rupert bringing up their old bet was definitely a move Liam didn’t like, and he wondered how long Oliver had been dealing with Rupert’s bullshit.
Fuck.
“You still look like you want to kill someone. You might want to fix your face,” Kyle said.
Liam knew Kyle was right, but he personally thought he’d feel better if he could turn around and go confront Rupert, preferably with his fists. He knew he couldn’t, but the idea wouldn’t leave him.
Kyle smirked at him. “Or I could graze the bastard for you? You did leave me a rifle.”
