Page 7 of Playing to Win

“Nah.” Colin licked his lips in anticipation. “I can handle this yin.”

The Tesla’s low, sleek door swung open. Colin felt his jaw and arms go slack.

Andrew had traded the fine linen trousers, dress shirt, and blazer for a pair of torn black skinny jeans and a tight, dark-gray T-shirt. His hair was now tamed straight, the gel muting the highlights, with a long fringe angling over his forehead. And perched upon his perfect nose were the same black-framed, rectangular glasses he’d worn in January.

He’d turnedintoClark Kent, and the sight made Colin’s head swim.

“It’s a bird! It’s a plane!” Katie said. “No, it’s Super Hipster!” She examined Andrew’s T-shirt as he approached. Across the front, the wordsI Pity the Foolhad been written in bleach with what looked like a finger. “Did you make that yourself?” she asked Andrew.

“Of course.”

Katie turned to Colin and whispered, “I like his style.”

Me too. Fuck.It was easier to hate Andrew when he was all toffed up. Now he looked downright human, yet still heart-wrenchingly beautiful.

“All right, then.” Andrew stepped close to Colin, nearly touching him but not quite. “Shall we away?”

Colin pulled in a breath, intending to beg off from the rave, to claim he was feeling ill and had to go home. But as he did, he inhaled that scent again. Andrew’s smooth, warm cologne made Colin’s every nerve stand on end, while at the same time soothing him. It was a scent that whispered,You’re safe with me.

He wondered if spiders gave off the same aroma to the moths caught in their webs. If not, the frantic flapping of wings would tear the strands apart. At some point, every moth surrenders.

But not Colin. He’d wait until the last moment, then break free.

= = =

“Let me get this straight,” Colin said as he led Andrew down a bewildering series of North Glasgow streets and alleyways. “Your dad’s got millions of pounds, right?”

“Right.” Andrew craned his neck to catch sight of a street sign or a familiar landmark. He’d be lost if left alone in this dodgy, desolate area right now. It was rather exciting.

“So why can’t he leave you some of that money? Why does it all go to your brother?”

“The money is part of the estate, which can’t be divided.”

“Why not?”

“Because it can’t,” Andrew said. “The law of primogeniture, which says it all goes to the eldest son—”

“I know what fucking primogeniture is.”

“—was established to keep estates whole and undivided. It’s based on an incontrovertible principle—namely, who was born first. Not the most intelligent offspring, which would be my sister, or the parents’ favorite, which would be me.”

“If you inherit nothing,” Colin said, “why are you driving a Tesla and wearing expensive cologne?”

Andrew smiled inside at the fact Colin had noticed his scent. He’d chosen it because he’d worn it that night in January, when Colin had seemed absolutely ravenous for him. “Every penny I spend is my father’s. Theoretically, if I displease him, I could end up destitute.”

“That’s not fair.”

“No, but it isright. Anyway, life’s not fair, as the cliché goes.”

“That’s why we’ve got laws to make it more fair.” Colin quickened his pace as if to rid himself of Andrew. “Like calling fouls in football.”

“But sometimes blatant fouls aren’t called, even when it could change the course of the game. The teams who waste energy screaming at the refs usually end up losing. Obsessing over fairness turns us into weak, whingeing children when we should be taking responsibility for ourselves.”

Colin stopped and turned to him. “You are the worst person I’ve ever met.”

“I doubt that.” Andrew walked on, catching up to Katie and Siobhan. “Do you know where we are?”

“Not exactly.” Katie looked up and down the dismal street with its shuttered pawn shops, newsagents, and Chinese takeaways. “But I think we’re almost there. By the way, don’t you dare tweet about this to your million followers. You’ll get us busted.”

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