Page 100 of Playing to Win

Another call came, and this time, a second one overlapped it. They rose together, in a strange, shrieking dissonance. Colin’s eyes heated and his throat tightened. This sound, he knew, would haunt his dreams tonight. He wanted it to stop. He wanted it never to stop.

As the loons’ keening continued, Colin glued his gaze on the far shore. He couldn’t look at Andrew without revealing everything he felt. This moonlight was too bright to hide beneath.

At last the wails ceased, and he heard nothing but the soft splash of water against his and Andrew’s skin. “I guess they found each other,” he said with a weak laugh.

“Seems so,” Andrew whispered. “Colin?”

He turned his head to look at Andrew, into eyes that matched the silver water engulfing them. And he knew that no matter how safely they made it back to shore, tonight, he will have drowned.

“From the day we met,” Andrew continued, “there was something about you that I knew could strip me down to my core. I knew that with you, I could stop pretending. And it terrified me, because I’m so very good at pretending.” He lifted a hand out of the water to smooth back an errant lock of hair. “But I’m a better man for knowing you, so I just want to personally congratulate myself on having the courage to stick it out.”

Colin hooted with laughter, nearly sounding a loon himself. “I’m not feeling panicky, but I might fake it, just so I can kill you.”

“Then we’d both perish, which seems a waste.”

“Admit it, though”—Colin kissed Andrew’s lips, which were somehow still warm—“mutual homicide would be a fitting end to our relationship.”

“Perhaps, but I’d prefer to postpone it as long as humanly possible.”

“Which, the tragedy or the end of us?”

“Both. You know, I—” A slight wave lifted them up, splashing water into Andrew’s mouth. He spit it out, then tilted up his chin. “Unfortunate timing there.”

“What is it?”

“Hush. I’m trying to say something momentous.”

Colin’s heart pounded. “Go on.”

“I’m trying to tell you I—” A blaring car horn interrupted him. Andrew shifted to peer at the boathouse behind Colin. “What in God’s name…”

“Andrew!” Even from this distance, Colin could hear the rage filling Lord Ballingry’s voice. “What have you done?!”

CHAPTERTWENTY-FOUR

UNTILTONIGHT, ANDREWhad never fully appreciated the magnitude of his older brother’s prickishness. It was a quality he vowed never to underestimate again.

By the time Andrew swam near the shore—carrying Colin on his back to make better time—George had been joined by their parents, sister, and brother-in-law. The headlights of their three parked cars threw a harsh glare over the side of the boathouse.

“What’s going on?” Colin whispered as the two of them waded through the shallow water near the loch’s edge.

“I’ve no idea.” In fact, Andrew had some idea. He just couldn’t believe that such a brief, innocuous act of his could cause such furor.

“Whatever it is,” Andrew said to his family as he and Colin stepped onto shore, shivering and dripping, “it can wait until we’re warm and dry, or at least clothed.”

“Two minutes!” George shouted as Andrew passed him.

Andrew stopped, conjuring his best death stare despite being drenched and nearly naked. “I don’t take orders from you. Dunleven isn’t yours yet.”

They looked at their father, who sighed and said, “Five minutes.”

Andrew escorted Colin through the front door, then shut and locked it behind them.

Colin made a beeline for his phone, which, though now muted, was lighting up like Guy Fawkes Night fireworks.

“Do I even want to know?” Andrew asked as he stepped into the shower room to retrieve a pair of towels.

“The internet is wise to us. This one guy replied to you, ‘Don’t you screen your rent boys for cybernat tendencies?’”

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