Page 25 of Playing to Win

No. It couldn’t be the start of anything but the end.

After the tour, he helped Colin stagger the short distance to a nearby café, an old favorite of Andrew’s from his school days. He’d phoned ahead this morning and had them save a table for him, though they didn’t officially accept reservations.

Once Colin had downed a nonalcoholic ginger beer and a bit of bread and butter, he quickly returned to cheeky form.

“Gonnae let’s go to one of those souvenir places on the Royal Mile there,” he said, biting into his roll. “Like Wee Shop of Scottish Stereotypes. That one looks good.”

“Please don’t judge my city by its tourist district.” Andrew studied the chalkboard menu on the wall so he wouldn’t have to watch Colin chomp his bread like a goat.

“I guess Glasgow’s got no tourist district. There’s loads to see there, but not in one trappy place like this. Glasgow justisScottish, so it doesn’t need to be a Disney version. It doesn’t need to be Scotland-land.”

Andrew smirked at the comparison, despite his devotion to his home city. “The guidebooks all fail to mention that Edinburgh is the last place to go to meet Scots.”

“Right? I’ve not heard a single Scottish accent since we arrived, save our taxi driver—and the tour guide, sort of.”

“And me, of course.”

Colin burst into laughter, drawing the attention of the pair of lady tourists at the next table. Thankfully, he found the presence of mind to cover his mouth and swallow before answering. “Mate, your accent’s as English as the Prime Minister’s and you know it.”

“I don’t try to sound English. It’s just the way I’ve been raised, the people I’ve spent my life with. I won’t apologize for my background.”

Colin popped the last bite of bread into his mouth. “Neither will I.”

Their soup and sandwiches arrived then, along with another round of soft drinks. They tucked in, eating without speaking for a minute. Finally, to cover the sound of Colin slurping his soup—off the end of his spoon, no less—Andrew asked, “So, do you travel often?”

“Not really. I’ve got a passport, though. Charlotte paid for it out of club funds, in case I got scouted by some foreign pro club, which I haven’t.” Colin finally swallowed, then dragged his white paper napkin across his mouth. “What about you? You must go down south a lot, to London and all.”

“Afraid so. Aristocrats are required by law to spend a minimum of twenty days per year in Knightsbridge.”

Colin blinked. “That’s a joke, right?”

“Technically.” Andrew ate his tomato-basil soup off the side of his spoon, hoping Colin would learn by example. “London is a vibrant city, and in small doses I adore it, but it has a way of annihilating one’s soul.”

Colin studied him with a wry gaze. “Hm, I’d no idea you had a soul to annihilate.” He picked up his sandwich. “But it explains a lot.”

Such a cryptic comment. Andrew wanted to get inside this lad’s head in the worst way. “Talking of explanations, what’s the story behind your tattoos?”

Colin stopped chewing, and a shutter seemed to fall over his eyes. Then he set down his sandwich and stretched his left arm across the table. “This is a unicorn.”

“I can see that.” Andrew examined the black-line, almost tribalesque design, which included only the beast’s head, neck, and chest. Its mouth was open, and its flying mane resembled flames. “It’s rather angry-looking. Is it meant to represent a rebellious Scotland?” The United Kingdom coat of arms famously featured the lion of England wearing a crown, whilst the unicorn, symbolizing Scotland, was in chains.

“Very good. Especially cos this unicorn’s chain is broken.”

Andrew reached out and traced the links, which continued up and over Colin’s forearm, into the forest of fine, dark hair. “But those chains serve a purpose. Unicorns are savage beasts. Without their shackles, who knows what havoc they could wreak?”

“I guess we’ll see about that next month, won’t we?” Colin asked with a wink. It was the first time he’d referred to the Scottish independence referendum, even obliquely. Andrew tensed. Normally he relished political arguments, but today, with this man, he wanted to forget the world.

Colin didn’t linger on the topic. Instead he took Andrew’s hand and placed it over the curve of the unicorn’s jaw. “Feel that?”

There was a bump where the skin was raised. “What is it?”

“Compound fracture when I was thirteen. I fancied one of my mates at school. Thought it was mutual.” Colin pulled his own hand back. “I was wrong.”

Andrew gasped. “He broke your arm?”

“Not personally. He told some other lads, and they tried to throw me down some stairs. Luckily, I escaped. Unluckily, I escaped by falling over the banister.”

His matter-of-fact tone made Andrew’s skin prickle with unease. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that.” Coming from him, the words sounded empty.

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