Page 54 of Playing to Win

“The one behind you is actually a freezer. Remember I said the dead bodies upstairs were starting to stink?” Andrew knelt in the center of his queen-size bed. He quite fancied the image in front of him, with Colin’s dark clothes and hair shadowed in the candlelight. “Stand there while you answer my questions.”

Colin gave a cocky smirk. “Shoot.”

Andrew sat back on his heels and decided to go for the jugular straightaway. “Which currency would an independent Scotland use?”

“The pound, of course. We’ll have a currency union with what’s left of the UK.”

“The UK Chancellor says no, and it’s his call.”

“His bluff, more like.” Fingers twitching, Colin stared at Andrew’s half-naked body. “It’s…erm…”

“Sorry.” Andrew leaned back on his hands, purposely flexing his abs. “Is this too much for you?”

“No!” Colin blinked hard and rubbed his face. “Look, it’s pure common sense to see a currency union is best for both countries. Without it, Scotland can shirk its portion of UK national debt.”

Andrew sat up straight. “What if the Chancellor’s not bluffing?” As he spoke, he fidgeted with his gold bracelet, gliding his fingertip back and forth beneath the Spartacus link chain. “What if the UK is so offended at Scotland’s vote for independence that they tell us to fuck right off, even if that satisfaction costs them billions?”

Colin shrugged, his gaze stuck on Andrew’s wrist. “Then we’ll use the pound without a currency union.”

“And have no central bank. What happens if there’s another crash? We’ll have our very own Great Tartan Depression.”

“The risk of that is practically nil.”

Andrew smirked.Got you.“Sorry if I don’t trust the risk assessment of a man who crowd-dives at raves.”

Colin guffawed and looked away, shaking his head. Then he tugged on his tie. “Okay, you win that point, but only cos I’ve a head start and this fucking tie is strangling me.” He whipped it off and hurled it aside, then undid his top shirt button with a sigh of relief. “Next question?”

It was Colin’s turn to ask, but Andrew desperately wanted to see more of him. “However will we balance the budget?”

They tossed figures back and forth, each spinning them to suit his side. Colin’s analysis was far more sophisticated than Andrew had expected, and his brain seemed a bottomless repository of numbers. But ultimately his argument depended too much upon the price of oil, which was falling at the moment, possibly for good. Colin’s shirt followed his tie onto the bedroom floor.

Andrew’s hands begged him to reach out so they could caress that broad chest and those muscular, tattooed arms. He sat on those rebellious hands, then curved his feet up into the lotus position, enjoying Colin’s admiration of his flexibility.

“Next question?” Colin asked, clearly relishing the debate despite not having won a point.

Andrew decided to play on Colin’s political leanings. “You hate us Tories, but if Scotland leaves the Union, wouldn’t it doom the rest of the UK to permanent Tory rule?”

“Nah, we’re too wee to make a difference in national elections.” Colin rattled off more statistics to support his point. Until now, Andrew hadn’t known how seldom—practically never—Scottish votes had decided the UK’s governing party. It made his own political aspirations feel a bit pointless in the greater scheme of things.

“England gets the government they vote for,” Colin said in conclusion. “The rest of us—Scotland, Wales, Northern Ireland—we also get the government England votes for.”

“But without Scotland’s leftist voters, the UK will move further to the right politically.”

Colin shrugged. “That’s their problem, isn’t it?”

Biting his lip, Andrew lay back on the bed and began to unbutton his cropped trousers. He knew the excitement in Colin’s eyes wasn’t purely sexual. He had that very Scottish passion for argument that Andrew adored. “You’ve impressed me,” he said as he pushed his trousers over his hips. “Most nationalists like you can’t get beyond the faux-Braveheart‘Freedom!’ argument.”

“All the information’s out there.” Colin grabbed the cuffs of Andrew’s trousers and yanked them off. “When I hurt my knee I suddenly had loads of free time to do research.”

Andrew slid his bare foot up the side of Colin’s thigh. “Let’s hope you stay healthy, or the No campaign is in real trouble.”

Colin caught Andrew’s foot, suddenly serious. “I’d sacrifice my knee for Scotland. If it ever came to it, I’d sacrifice my life.”

Andrew stared up at him. Things werethatbad, Colin feltthatoppressed, he’d be willing to die for change? He wasn’t merely a nationalist, he was a revolutionary.

He was the last person Andrew should be spending time with.

Colin took his other foot and pulled him closer, framing his own thighs with Andrew’s ankles. “Does that put the frighteners on you?” he asked in a low voice.

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