Page 81 of Playing to Win

Colin seized Andrew’s other hand. “Admit it, the politician in you enjoyed that.”

“Very much.”

“Hah!” He twirled Andrew around, singing the chorus of the Major Lazer song again.

As they danced together down the hallway, hips shimmying to Colin’s Caribbean patois, Andrew’s spirit soared, leaving him with one shining thought:

I would enjoy anything with you.

= = =

“I can’t,” whispered the tight-faced middle-aged woman from behind her barely ajar door. “Boss says I’ll lose my job if I vote for independence.”

“What!?” Colin looked livid. “That’s ridiculous.”

“I telt her she should quit,” a voice thundered behind the woman. A large man opened the door wide. “It’s against the fuckin’ law to threaten people for exercising democracy.”

Andrew wasn’t sure that was true. “Mrs. Shaw, did your employer perhaps mean your company would move south in the event of a Yes result?”

“Let ’em go!” her husband shouted. “Let ’em all fuck off to England. Bunch of fascist pricks.”

Mrs. Shaw gave Andrew a forlorn,here we go againlook. Colin tried to insert a rational word or two between the man’s ravings about “Freedom!” and “Westminster wankers,” but seemed to quickly realize it was futile. He recorded them as a Yes and a No, then wished them a good afternoon.

“I only read theSunday Herald!” Mr. Shaw shouted as Colin and Andrew continued down the hall. “The other papers are full of Tory lies!”

Andrew held in his laughter until they were in the stairwell. “Such a high level of discourse from your allies,” he said as they descended to the next floor.

“Shut it. Your side’s telling people they’ll get the sack for voting Yes.”

“How would her employer know? It’s a secret ballot.”

“They can ask her how she voted,” Colin said. “Most people are terrible liars.”

“Including you?”

“Aye, I’m the worst.” Colin stopped and turned to him at the bottom of the stairs. “Or maybe I’m the best. What doyouthink?”

“I think you’re somewhere in between.” Andrew gave into the impulse—theneed—to pull Colin close. “I like that. You keep me on my toes.”

“Toes, naw.” Colin glanced down. “I like you better on your knees.”

Andrew gave a soft groan, then took Colin’s lower lip between his teeth. They kissed, deeper and deeper, their bodies adhered to each other at chests, hips, and thighs, until Andrew could barely breathe.

When Colin finally pulled back, his eyes gleamed with something more complicated than desire—affection, almost. “I missed you too,” he whispered.

Andrew took a deep breath to clear his head, and as he did, he caught a stronger whiff of that same unmistakable odor. “What’s that smell?”

Colin glanced away, his gaze suddenly shuttered. “I don’t smell anything.” He spun away and opened the door to the next level. Andrew followed, but as he shut the door behind him, he saw a dark, diffuse stain along the top of the stairwell window.Oh.

In the hallway, Colin was already knocking on the next door, though it was Andrew’s turn. A baby was crying behind it, a noise that came closer with a set of light footsteps.

“Just a sec!” a female voice called out, then softened. “Wheesht. We’ve visitors, okay?”

The door opened to a blond teenage lass holding an infant in the crook of her arm. Her harried face lit up when she saw Colin. “Oi, you!”

He gasped. “I didnae know you lived in the towers too.”

“Aye, with my parents and this yin.” She beamed down at the gurgling, red-faced baby. “Jack, mind the nice lad who stopped your diaper bag spilling all over the street?” Then she looked at Andrew. “Oh my God, it’s the guy from the photie.”

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