Page 70 of Playing to Win

“Hiya,” he said to the lad when they joined him at the bar, one on either side. “Gonnae let us buy you a drink?”

“Thanks. Or I guess I should say, ‘Cheers.’” He offered a crooked smile made of the world’s straightest teeth.

“Our pleasure.” Andrew ordered three drams of single malt. “You fancy whisky, I hope, er…?”

“Joey. And yeah, I do. Mostly Speysides, but sometimes I get adventurous with an Islay.”

“You know your Scotch. Impressive.” Andrew was warming to him already.

“I spent my junior year in London. Me and my friends took a trip to Scotland over spring break.” His gaze turned distant and rapturous, his brown lashes fluttering. “It was seriously the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen. The Highlands and Islands, Inverness, Edinburgh—and the architecture in Glasgow, holy shit. No one warned me how gorgeous that city would be.” He reached for his whisky. “Sorry, I’m totally rambling.”

Andrew looked past Joey at Colin, whose face lit up like it was Christmas in August.

Joey lifted his glass in a toast. “Slàinte.”

“Indeed.” Andrew looked down, appreciating the symmetry of his and Colin’s kilts bookending Joey’s chinos in the hazy blue bar light. He pictured the lad sandwiched naked between them while they still wore their kilts. Perhaps this was a good idea after all.

Joey glanced down as well. “You probably get this question a lot, but I gotta know. Is it true—”

“Aye,” Colin said with a disappointed scowl.

“I didn’t even ask the—”

“You were gonnae ask if we free-ball it under our kilts.”

Joey shook his head. “Actually, I was wondering if it’s true Scotland’s going to become independent.”

Colin’s birthday face returned. “Aye, it’s true!”

“No, it’s not,” Andrew said.Good God, is there no escape from this nonsense?

“It could totally happen.” Colin gestured with his glass. “The polls are starting to turn our way.”

“A momentary blip,” Andrew said.

Joey looked at him. “So you’re against independence. Is that because you’re English?”

“I’m against independence because it’s ludicrous—and I’m not English, I’m Scottish.”

“Sorry.” Joey rubbed his mouth, blushing. “You sound English to me.”

“See, I telt you.” Colin pointed at Andrew, who was feeling the first glimmers of jealousy. He shrugged off this nagging discomfort. Pre-threesome anxiety was perfectly normal. It didn’t mean Andrew cared.

Besides, this weekend was about giving Colin everything he’d never had, setting him free from want. Andrew had to be generous on all fronts in order to prove that giving didn’t mean losing. They could enjoy this lad Joey without enjoying each other any less.

Right?

When Colin turned away to order another round, Andrew leaned over and spoke into Joey’s ear. “It’s Colin’s birthday. He fancies you, and I want to make him happy. If you know what I mean.”

Joey’s eyes went wide, and he nodded. “I think I do.” He gave his lower lip a nervous lick. “Are you—I mean, will you be—”

“Oh yes.” He mirrored Joey’s lip lick. “The three of us. But it’s about him, all right? Not me. Not you. Not you and me. Not for one moment.”

Joey glanced behind him at Colin, who was examining the bottles atop the bar and gnawing the end of a red cocktail straw. “Um, speaking of birthdays, I gotta ask. How old are you guys?”

“He’s nineteen, I’m twenty. Don’t tell the bartender.”

Joey laughed. “As long as you’re at least eighteen, I don’t care.”

---