The company definitely could’ve been better.
“Where did you park?” Oliver asked.
“Not here.”
Getting to Liam’s incredibly expensive luxury sports car involved leaving the employee car park, trekking back through security, and making their way down the lane the royals had arrived on for the Royal Procession. It led to a staging area guarded by police. They were let through without a fight, Liam’s clear status as a royal and metahuman ensuring no one questioned their presence, even if they might have questioned Oliver’s. He didn’t look like an agent, not in the suit he wore, despite having lost his top hat.
Liam had to use the biometric lock on the car door to unlock it, and Oliver slid into the front passenger seat. He left the door open for a few seconds longer, wincing at the heat still escaping from the interior. Liam undid his flak jacket and tossed it in the boot before getting behind the steering wheel. He started the engine and quickly turned on the air-conditioning to its highest setting. The air blasting from the vents was barely cold enough to make a dent in the heat. Oliver shut his door anyway and buckled up.
Liam didn’t say anything until they’d driven off the grounds and made it to a road utterly blocked by first responder and private vehicles. An officer was directing traffic down a side street, and Oliver watched as Liam’s eyes narrowed.
“Base, get me a route out of this mess and back to London,” Liam said over his comms. “Why am I not on the jet? Does it matter? I’ll get there for debrief, but if you want me there today, you’ll find me a better route.Thankyou.”
“Should’ve flown,” Oliver said, staring out the windscreen.
“You should’ve told me Rupert was being an utter arsehole about everything we did to you.”
Oliver couldn’t stop the full-body flinch that happened in response to Liam’s direct statement. “I’m not required to share my personal life with you, Colonel Wessex.”
“Don’t start that, Ollie.” Liam’s hands tightened on the steering wheel before twisting it to the left and driving past the cars inching forward. “I know I owe you more than just an apology. If I had the power to go back in time and fix my mistakes, believe me, I’d kick my own arse for what I did to you and others when I was a prick.”
Oliver bit his tongue, holding back his words as Liam paused long enough to get cleared by the policeman on traffic duty and continue straight down the road rather than turning. Liam drove as if he didn’t care that his sports car wasn’t made for off-roading, acting as if he were in the lead spot of a Formula 1 race.
The police had long since disappeared in the rearview mirror when Oliver finally spoke. “You were a shit friend to make that bet. It’s why we aren’t friends anymore.”
“I know.” Liam’s quiet admission sounded tired. “I’m sorry.”
“I don’t want your apology.”
“Then whatdoyou want? Because I want to make this right between us, Ollie.”
Oliver turned his head to look out the window, staring at the passing trees. “It doesn’t matter.”
Liam swore and slowed his speed only slightly to take the turnoff ahead onto an A road. He still took the exit at a speed that made the seatbelt dig into Oliver’s shoulder. Traffic was practically nonexistent on the stretch of road they ended up on since everyone leaving Ascot was being sent off in a different direction.
Liam yanked the wheel to the left and pulled onto the side of the road, the grassy area parched brown from the sun. He killed the engine and activated the emergency brake before turning to look at Oliver.
“Don’t say it doesn’t matter when Rupert is taking the piss out of you like he obviously has been,” Liam growled. “Is he the only one?”
Oliver glared at him. “What do you think?”
Liam clenched his jaw so tight the tendons in his neck stood out. Then he yanked open the door and got out, swearing loud enough and in such a way the press would’ve had a field day if they’d heard the words coming out of his mouth. It only served to remind Oliver that Liam was as much a soldier as he was a prince these days.
Oliver undid his seatbelt and got out of the car, turning to glare at Liam over the roof, squinting against the glare of the sun reflecting off the gun-metal gray paint. “I don’t know why you’re mad at Rupert when he’s your friend. I’d have thought you would have taken him up on his invitation.”
The appalled look Liam gave him quickly devolved into anger. “I haven’t talked to Rupert in over a year!”
“Bollocks. You were at the same charity gala we were at last year.”
“Yes, and I haven’t chatted with him since then. You know conversations at those things don’t count. It’s small talk.”
Oliver rolled his eyes. “He’s your friend.”
“No, he’s not,” Liam bit out, hazel eyes narrowed against the sunlight as he came around the car. “He hasn’t been for ages now, and especially not if he’s treating you how he has been.”
Oliver shook his head, glaring at Liam. “I don’t care what they think. Can we get back on the road?”
“If you truly didn’t care, you wouldn’t have looked so gutted back at Ascot.”
