Without missing a beat, Elisha leaned forward, eyes locked on the vanishing taillights.
"Follow them," he ordered his driver. "Don’t lose them."
The driver trailed Prince Raphael’s convoy through the evening traffic. They drove for a while until, after a moment’s thought, Elisha suddenly changed his mind.
"Stop following them."
The driver immediately eased off and let the convoy pull away.
Elisha leaned back in his seat, silent for a beat before speaking again.
"Take me to Henry’s house instead."
The driver glanced at him in the rearview mirror. "Sir? Aren’t we following them anymore?"
"No. Turn the car around. We’re going to Henry’s."
He looked out the window, expression thoughtful. "I’ll wait for him there. I want to know what time he gets back."
"Alright, sir."
The driver turned the car around and headed toward Henry’s estate. When they arrived, Elisha instructed him to park in a quiet corner near the entrance, where they could clearly see the road Henry would have to take on his return.
Elisha stayed in the back seat, waiting.
Twenty minutes passed.
Then thirty.
Almost an hour later, his phone buzzed in the inner pocket of his suit jacket.
He pulled it out and saw an Instagram notification from Henry—a new post. Unlocking his phone, he opened the app.
Henry’s photo filled the screen. Elisha studied the image before his eyes dropped to the caption beneath it:
Eating with a perfect gentleman.
His expression hardened when he noticed Prince Raphael was tagged. He quickly checked Raphael’s account.
Raphael had posted as well. Henry was in the frame, though only part of his face was visible. The caption read:
Eating with someone beautiful.
Elisha’s jaw tightened.
Both posts were already drawing attention. Likes and comments poured in, especially under Henry’s, thanks to the tag. Then something made his expression shift.
Victoria, his eldest sister, had liked the post. So had Ellen and Amelia, his other two sisters. Two of them had even commented:
Ellen:Dinner with the prince? Next time, invite me too! 🤭
Amelia:Enjoy yourself, Henry. 🥰
Elisha stared at the comments in silence. His sisters were clearly happy to see Henry out with Prince Raphael. They had liked both posts and seemed genuinely pleased.
He locked his phone and dropped it onto the seat beside him.
For a long moment he simply stared out the window, his mind sinking into thoughts he had spent years trying to avoid. The truth was, he often wondered how much longer he could keep living this way, hiding behind the title of best friend just to remain close to the person he loved.
It wasn’t that he didn’t know what he wanted. He knew exactly what he wanted.
He wanted Henry.
But wanting him and having the freedom to choose him were two entirely different things.
Elisha was the only son of the Edmund family. He had three sisters, yet the responsibility of carrying the family name into the next generation rested solely on his shoulders. His parents had made that expectation clear for as long as he could remember: build a home, marry, have children, continue the Edmund line.
There was no room in that future for a man.
His family was deeply religious, especially his father and grandfather, and their beliefs were not something they would compromise. Elisha knew that if he ever admitted he loved another man—especially Henry—his family would never accept it.
And it wasn’t only his parents he feared disappointing.
Their families had shared a close bond for years, a friendship both sides valued. If Elisha tried to turn that friendship into something more, he risked more than just his relationship with Henry. He could jeopardize the entire connection between their families.
So he stayed where he was allowed to stay.
Beside Henry.
As his best friend.
Even when being only his best friend was slowly becoming unbearable. But he had no other choice. What if he risked everything, confessed, and Henry didn’t feel the same? What if things fell apart between them? Worse still, Henry was now engaged. And the more Elisha tried to let him go, the harder it became. He couldn’t forget, especially not because of that night.
THREE MONTHS EARLIER...
Elisha and Henry had been dangerously drunk, wrapped in a haze of reckless, unfiltered joy. Elisha had moved closer, pulled by the gravitational force of a heart that had wanted Henry for years. Holding back that night had simply become impossible.
Henry hadn’t pulled away. Instead, their lips met, and Elisha kissed him with every hidden, desperate ounce of love he had carried in the dark for so long.
Henry kissed him back, lip on lip, their tongues tangling in a slow, intoxicating rhythm. Haze-eyed and reckless, Elisha climbed over Henry’s lap, his hands trembling as he tugged Henry’s shirt off over his shoulders.
Henry did the same, his fingers clumsy against Elisha’s fabric, stripping his shirt away in the dim, warm light.
Even through the heavy fog of alcohol, Henry looked breathtaking. Reaching out, Elisha caught the tie holding back Henry’s long blonde hair, letting the golden strands spill loose over his shoulders. To Elisha, in that drunken, beautiful blur, Henry was the most gorgeous creature on earth. He had always been that beautiful to him.
Drunk and entirely uninhibited, Elisha slid lower, his hands gripping Henry’s hips. He pushed Henry’s knees back, raising his legs and spreading them wide to expose him completely.
Elisha brought his thick, heavy cockhead against Henry’s slick, unprepared entrance. He didn’t drive in immediately; instead, he leaned up, kissing Henry breathless again. His lips trailed down the line of Henry’s throat, sucking a bruised mark into his sensitive neck, planting wet, hungry kisses along his jaw, his ear, and his flushed cheek.
Henry was completely surrendered to him, his chest heaving as he whimpered softly under the heavy, intoxicating weight of alcohol and touch.
Elisha lowered his mouth to Henry’s chest, pressing his hot lips against his skin before flicking his tongue over a hardened pebble of a nipple. He swirled his tongue lazily over the sensitive peak, drawing it into his mouth and sucking gently.
Henry let out a breathless, trembling moan, his fingers digging frantically into Elisha’s shoulders, his nails biting into bare muscle.
Without breaking the kiss, Elisha slid his hand down between their bodies, wrapping his palm firmly around Henry’s semi-hard cock. He began to stroke him in slow, rhythmic slide-and-pulls, building the friction as he positioned himself at Henry’s tight entrance.
With no preparation, no lube, and no protection, Elisha pressed forward.