Playing for Keeps (Glasgow Lads Book 2) (42 page)

Colin’s brows spasmed, darting together and apart in an instant. He dropped his hand but didn’t move away. “I felt a fucking fool waiting all night alone in a posh hotel room, afraid to have so much as a glass of water in case I’d be arrested for stealing.”

“You should have ordered room service. I would’ve been happy to pay for it.”

“I didnae want food. I wanted—” Colin cut himself off and turned away, rubbing the back of his reddening neck, then sweeping his hand up to make the spiky black waves of hair stand even more on end. “What happened to you?”

Out in the living room, the volume of voices swelled. Clearly something momentous was taking place. But Andrew kept his focus on Colin. He might not be able to make amends for his callous behavior in January, but he could try to explain it. “My bodyguard, Wallace, he wouldn’t let me go.”

“Wouldn’t ‘let’ you? You’re an adult, right?”

“Yes, but at the time I wasn’t insisting I be treated like one.”

“I don’t follow.”

“I wasn’t out yet. I needed help keeping my secret. Wallace didn’t think you could be trusted.”

“Because I’m poor?”

“Because you were unknown. I’d met you at a rave, after all.” Feeling the heat of the evening and Colin’s hostility, Andrew tugged the lapel of his blazer, wishing he’d removed it before coming to the party. “You weren’t the first lad I had to ditch like that, but you were the last. I sacked Wallace the following day, after he’d let slip one too many homophobic comments.”

I’m saving you from yourself, Lord Andrew. Your appetite for peasant cock will be the death of you.

“You should’ve phoned me,” Colin said. “Instead of leaving me to think you’d found someone better, or that I’d been pranked.”

“I wanted to explain, but how could I, without giving away my real identity?”

“You’re a fucking coward, so you are. I saw your big coming-out on YouTube in February. Everyone said you were so brave, but I knew the truth. I knew you’d been slumming it in disguise.”

“You’re right, I
was
a coward. It
was
dishonorable. But now—” Andrew yearned to erase the hurt and anger from that face, but he sensed that words would only make it worse. “I deeply regret my actions that night. All but one.”

Colin bristled, as if expecting an insult. “Which one?”

“This.” Andrew stepped forward and kissed him. Not hard, not long, not demanding, and with no hands whatsoever. Just one mouth against one mouth, solid, soft, and sure.

Applause erupted. Colin lurched away from Andrew and spun to face the kitchen door. But no one was there.

“What’s going on?” Andrew took a step toward the living room, his heart pounding.

A chorus of “Awwwww!”s answered him, followed by catcalls and a woman shouting, “Kiss the bride, Fergus!”

Andrew and Colin gaped at each other, then raced to the living room.

The party was gathered around Fergus and John, who were draped in a large fleece football blanket. Colin nudged Liam and asked, “What happened? Are they engaged?”

The big ginger shook his head. “Probably soon, though. Assuming Fergus doesnae chuck him off the balcony for failing to use a coaster. Threatened to do that to me once, and I don’t even live here.”

Andrew watched as Fergus and John kissed, holding each other so tight it seemed they’d never let go. The sight made him ache. What was it like to be truly known, as these two knew each other, and somehow still loved?

He turned to speak to Colin, but he’d already left Andrew’s side. A quick search of the party, which was now breaking up due to lack of beer, revealed him near the television, chatting to Robert’s girlfriend, Danielle, who was letting him read something off her phone screen. Colin copied the information onto his own phone, then looked straight at Andrew.

The air between them snapped with tension. Colin ran his teeth slowly over his bottom lip, looking as though he were contemplating a monumental decision. Then he jerked his head to beckon Andrew over.

Much as he wanted to obey, to dash over and run his own teeth over that lip, the aristocrat in him saved his dignity.
Oh no, little man, you do not summon me.

Andrew lifted his chin and turned away, approaching Fergus and John to thank them for the party.

“Cheers for the wine, Drew,” John said, still draped with Fergus in the fleece blanket. “We’ll save it for a special occasion.”

“It’s your first night at home together. What occasion could be more special?” Andrew looked up at Fergus. “
Carpe noctum.
”

“We will.” The tall, lean football captain gazed down at John. “Every night.”

As they resumed snogging—right in front of him, my God—Andrew felt a light tap on his elbow.

“Do you still go to raves?” Colin asked. “All the clubs are pure crammed out with Commonwealth Games tourists, so a few folk have put together a party over in—well, I cannae tell you where it is unless you’re coming.”

Andrew hesitated. It was risky, going to an illegal dance party without his bodyguard, Reggie. But he couldn’t bring himself to walk away from Colin again.

“If I say yes, will it make you smile?”

Colin blinked. “No.”

“What would it take to get a smile out of you?”

“Hm.” Colin scanned the ceiling, considering. “Ten quid. But a fiver’ll get you a smirk.”

“Let me see.” Andrew opened his wallet and withdrew the only sort of note he had. “Can you change a hundred?”

Colin broke into a beaming grin that lit up Andrew’s entire spine. He took the note and pocketed it. Then his smile vanished. “No.” He turned away, back to his mates. Andrew watched him, his own nerves still glowing.

Worth every penny.

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