Chapters (49)
- Cover
- Title Page
- Dedication
- Family Tree
- ACT ONE
- CHAPTER ONE
- CHAPTER TWO
- CHAPTER THREE
- CHAPTER FOUR
- CHAPTER FIVE
- CHAPTER SIX
- A NEW HEIR-A?
- CHAPTER EIGHT
- CHAPTER NINE
- CHAPTER TEN
- CHAPTER ELEVEN
- ACT TWO
- CHAPTER ONE
- CHAPTER TWO
- CHAPTER THREE
- CHAPTER FOUR
- CHAPTER FIVE
- BEX AND NICK (FINALLY) PLAY BALL
- CHAPTER SEVEN
- ACT THREE
- CHAPTER ONE
- CHAPTER TWO
- CHAPTER THREE
- CHAPTER FOUR
- CHAPTER FIVE
- CHAPTER SIX
- CHAPTER SEVEN
- CHAPTER EIGHT
- CHAPTER NINE
- ACT FOUR
- CHAPTER ONE
- CHAPTER TWO
- CHAPTER THREE
- CHAPTER FOUR
- CHAPTER FIVE
- CHAPTER SIX
- CHAPTER SEVEN
- CHAPTER EIGHT
- CHAPTER NINE
- Discover More
- Acknowledgments
- About the Authors
- ALSO BY HEATHER COCKS AND JESSICA MORGAN
- PRAISE FOR
Their rapprochement had begun after that day in Clarence House. Nick and Freddie had stayed in that room for some time, and when they’d emerged—Nick first, then Freddie five minutes later—we’d all left separately, Nick and me to our place and Freddie and Daphne back to his. I waited until we were home, and let Nick take half an hour to decompress on the couch before I even ventured into his office. He was still lying on the sofa staring at the ceiling, a small smile playing at his lips.
“How’s it going?” I asked, peeking in and wiggling a can of lager I’d grabbed from the kitchen. “Want me to leave you alone a bit longer?”
“Never,” he said, sitting up. “Oooh, just what the doctor ordered.” He popped open the can and slurped at the eruption of foam. “I’m sure you’re wondering what was said.”
“Meh.” I shrugged.
He grinned and took another deep sip. “Good, because the answer is, nothing.”
“Bullshit,” I said, flopping down next to him on the sofa.
“Not at all,” he said. “That’s the thing.” He shook his head slowly. “You saw me hug him, and you saw him cry. We stood like that for a while, and then he sat back down to blow his nose, so I took the interviewer’s chair opposite him and we…I don’t know, just sort of stayed like that. I couldn’t even tell you how long we sat there. And then we both somehow knew when it was time to get up and leave.”
“You seriously didn’t say anything?” I asked. “Freddie went that long without speaking?”
Nick nodded. “Shocking, I know,” he said. “I kept thinking, I wish I knew what to say, I should think of something to say, and then in the middle of all that I realized I already knew what he needed.” His eyes turned moist. “To know that we still have that ability to be a comfort to each other, just by being in the same room.…” Nick swigged his beer and let out a happy sigh. “For the first time since we had words that Thanksgiving, I feel optimistic,” he said. “The great irony being that today we didn’t use words at all. Now let’s get you one of these beers. I don’t like day-drinking alone and I shall need at least one more.”