Page 30 of Convenient Rivals

“Bitch,” he said, throwing a scrunched up serviette at her. “You had me going there.”

She laughed. “Your face was fucking hilarious.”

“Yes, very amusing. What did you want to see me for, then?”

“Serious mode now. I’m still worried. I know you like this guy, Oscar. More than you’re letting on. I don’t want to see you get hurt and be out a million quid for the trouble.”

“If things were different, I’d like to see whether there’s something more there, but he’s made it clear he’s not interested and I have to respect that. And a million quid is a small price to pay for what I did when we were kids.”

“You have to let that go.”

He knew she was right. He wasn’t that person anymore, and he never would be again, but every time he looked into Gregory’s eyes, he saw the echoes of the pain he’d caused. That was something he’d never be able to take away, but he knew Gregory would never forgive himself if something happened to Barty and he could have stopped it. That was why Oscar was doing this. The past couldn’t be changed, but Oscar would do everything he could to spare Gregory from any future pain.

Oscar’s driver pulled up outside Gregory’s flat, and he sent a text as instructed, although he would have preferred to go to the door like a gentleman. Oscar wasn’t sure whether Gregory had told his friends, so he’d just do as he was asked. If Gregory wanted to tell his friends the truth, he was fine with that. As long as their mothers didn’t find out, all would be well.

Gregory came out the door, looking as sexy as always in his tux. The guy knew how to rock a bow tie, and often wore them for work, but the black and white of the tuxedo showed off his lithe frame. He looked like butter wouldn’t melt, but Oscar knew he had a filthy mouth and could fuck like a demon. Okay, now would be a good time to not get hard.

The car door opened, and Gregory got in.

“Evening,” he said.

“Good evening, boyfriend,” replied Oscar with a smile.

Gregory rolled his eyes, but the side of his lips twitched. Oscar would do whatever he could to make Gregory smile. He always looked like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders, and his furrowed brow said he was doing everything he could to solve everyone’s problems. Did he ever put himself first?

The drive to the ball wasn’t long, as it was being hosted at a hotel on Park Lane. Traffic could be a nightmare in Central London, but the driver was one he had used before who knew all the shortcuts, and it was only a few minutes later when their car doors were being opened for them. They both stepped out on their respective sides.

Oscar made his way round to Gregory and held out his hand, and Gregory looked at it for a second, hesitation in his eyes, before he took a deep breath and linked their hands together. Then they walked into the hotel lobby and were directed to the ballroom. The noise of the event could be heard as they approached; it sounded like a great many people had already arrived, even though they were only thirty minutes past the start time. Despite Gregory protesting they needed to get there on time, Oscar was usually an hour or more late to these events so the old dears who were far too nosy about his love life – and always had a grandson or nephew he just had to meet – wouldn’t collar him. The respectable half hour delay was their first compromise as a fake couple.

“Both our mothers are together. Should we get this part over with?” asked Oscar.

“Let’s have a drink first.” Gregory gripped Oscar’s hand tighter. He could feel his palms were sweaty.

He pulled Gregory towards the bar, which was free for guests. Nobody would do something as filthy as pay at a Fitzwilliam-Smythe event. They were worth more than the monarch and wanted everyone to know it. To be fair, the old guy was a good laugh – no filter and zero fucks given – which was allowed when you were one of the richest people in the country.

Oscar ordered a whisky and Coke for Gregory and a gin and tonic for himself. He needed something refreshing. The bartender was efficient, and cute, but Oscar was here with his “boyfriend” so had to keep his eyes to himself. Not that he wanted anyone else; Gregory had ruined him for other men. Though they hadn’t agreed on what they were going to do about getting laid whilst they were married. Oscar could not go a whole year without being fucked; he’d be climbing the walls. Dildos only took the edge off, and were no substitute for a hard pulsing dick splitting you open. He really needed to get his mind out of the gutter. If anyone at this party could hear what he was thinking, there’d be a world record broken for the number of upper-class toffs clutching their pearls.

“Oh fuck,” said Gregory.

He spun around and saw his mother making a beeline for him, with Gregory’s mother by her side.

“Oscar, my dear,” she said, holding out her cheek for him to kiss.

Gregory did the same with Lavinia.

“Where is this new man of yours? I can’t wait to meet him.”

“Well, you don’t have long to wait,” he said.

Oscar slipped an arm round Gregory’s shoulder – who tensed – but he pulled him towards his body and he relaxed, getting into character. Oscar gave him a gentle kiss on the temple. Gregory flushed red, which was adorably cute.

He turned to see two women who usually never shut up talking with their jaws on the floor. It would be hysterical if it wasn’t so serious. His mother recovered first and gave a sweet, albeit fake, smile.

“Oscar, can I have a word with you in private?”

There was a tone in her voice that made it clear it was a statement and not a request. He could get this over with now, or make her sweat for a bit. If Gregory wasn’t up for any action tonight, and he’d made that clear, he’d have to get his fun another way.

“We’ll have to chat later, mother; I want to dance with my boyfriend. Come on, babe, let’s show them how it’s done.”

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