Read Online Playing for Keeps (Glasgow Lads Book 2) by Avery Cockburn - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Avery Cockburn
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froze, finger in his mouth. Was he moving too fast? It had been more than four years since his last first date. He was pathetically out of touch with hookup etiquette.
Besides, he could be risking his heart by sleeping in the arms of a man he barely knew. The fact he badly wanted to spend the night with John was probably a sign he shouldn’t.
“Yes,” Fergus said, in spite of all that. “I’ve an extra toothbrush, if it’s dental hygiene you’re worried about.”
John gave a booming laugh. “You pure know how to tempt a man.”
Soon they were beneath the covers again, this time with the lights off. Fergus turned on his side away from John, intending to give him space. But after a few minutes, John shifted over and slid a tentative arm around him. “Is this okay?” he whispered.
His throat too tight for words, Fergus took John’s hand and pulled him closer, rounding his own back so that their bodies curled together. Then he stayed awake as long as he could, listening to this new breath, inhaling this new scent, absorbing this new skin against his.
= = =
“If you hurt him, I will kill you.” Fergus’s flatmate, Abebi, eyed John from the other end of the corner couch, her pink-pajama-clad legs stretched out to rest her slippered feet on the coffee table. “I’ve performed sixty-three autopsies, so I can make it look an accident.”
John laughed out loud, then covered his mouth and cast a glance down the hall toward the bedroom door, which was still shut. He’d left Fergus sleeping soundly half an hour ago, resisting the urge to kiss those tasty lips—upon which sat the most adorable slumber-smile—at least until after he’d brushed his own teeth.
“I’ll do my best.” John took another sip of the bracing Ceylon tea Abebi had made for them. “I know he must still be reeling from the breakup.”
“He was, until the last two weeks.” She continued, her deep, strong voice holding a mere trace of Nigerian accent. “We moved in together at the beginning of May—he found me through a Gumtree listing—and I barely saw him eat that first month. I did see a lot of empty Jameson bottles in the recycling bin.” The corners of her berry-colored lips pulled down, then up again. “But about a week before the Warriors’ first practice session, he came alive again. I suppose football gave him something to be strong for.”
“He takes it very seriously. One would almost think he was the manager, not the captain.”
“He will be manager one day. Not that he’d muscle Charlotte out of the way or anything. The job would need to be thrust upon him, like this one was.” She ran her thumb over a cartoon panda on her pajama trouser leg. “He didn’t want to be captain at first. I think all he wanted was to crawl into a hole and die.” She gave a grim smile. “Or I could be wrong. There’s a reason I didn’t choose psychiatry as my specialization.”
John tried to return her smile, but his face felt suddenly rigid with tension. What was he thinking, getting involved with a heartbroken man? He couldn’t offer Fergus the sort of stability he needed, not when he had to hide a huge part of his own life.
I should leave. Now. Wake Fergus long enough to say goodbye and thank him for an enjoyable evening. I owe him that courtesy.
Yet he couldn’t bear the thought of walking into that bedroom, seeing that face again, then walking out forever. Not after the way they’d connected, both body and mind. Not after the way they’d held each other as they fell asleep.
One date, one night…for the first time in John’s life, it wasn’t enough.
But maybe it would have to be.
= = =
Fergus woke slowly, languorously, the way one does after the sort of night he’d not had in months, the sort that ends with a pair of orgasms and a pair of smiles.
Another one—a smile, that is—curved his lips now as he reviewed every detail of last night, especially its conclusion. Thanks to John, Fergus had rediscovered his
Besides, he could be risking his heart by sleeping in the arms of a man he barely knew. The fact he badly wanted to spend the night with John was probably a sign he shouldn’t.
“Yes,” Fergus said, in spite of all that. “I’ve an extra toothbrush, if it’s dental hygiene you’re worried about.”
John gave a booming laugh. “You pure know how to tempt a man.”
Soon they were beneath the covers again, this time with the lights off. Fergus turned on his side away from John, intending to give him space. But after a few minutes, John shifted over and slid a tentative arm around him. “Is this okay?” he whispered.
His throat too tight for words, Fergus took John’s hand and pulled him closer, rounding his own back so that their bodies curled together. Then he stayed awake as long as he could, listening to this new breath, inhaling this new scent, absorbing this new skin against his.
= = =
“If you hurt him, I will kill you.” Fergus’s flatmate, Abebi, eyed John from the other end of the corner couch, her pink-pajama-clad legs stretched out to rest her slippered feet on the coffee table. “I’ve performed sixty-three autopsies, so I can make it look an accident.”
John laughed out loud, then covered his mouth and cast a glance down the hall toward the bedroom door, which was still shut. He’d left Fergus sleeping soundly half an hour ago, resisting the urge to kiss those tasty lips—upon which sat the most adorable slumber-smile—at least until after he’d brushed his own teeth.
“I’ll do my best.” John took another sip of the bracing Ceylon tea Abebi had made for them. “I know he must still be reeling from the breakup.”
“He was, until the last two weeks.” She continued, her deep, strong voice holding a mere trace of Nigerian accent. “We moved in together at the beginning of May—he found me through a Gumtree listing—and I barely saw him eat that first month. I did see a lot of empty Jameson bottles in the recycling bin.” The corners of her berry-colored lips pulled down, then up again. “But about a week before the Warriors’ first practice session, he came alive again. I suppose football gave him something to be strong for.”
“He takes it very seriously. One would almost think he was the manager, not the captain.”
“He will be manager one day. Not that he’d muscle Charlotte out of the way or anything. The job would need to be thrust upon him, like this one was.” She ran her thumb over a cartoon panda on her pajama trouser leg. “He didn’t want to be captain at first. I think all he wanted was to crawl into a hole and die.” She gave a grim smile. “Or I could be wrong. There’s a reason I didn’t choose psychiatry as my specialization.”
John tried to return her smile, but his face felt suddenly rigid with tension. What was he thinking, getting involved with a heartbroken man? He couldn’t offer Fergus the sort of stability he needed, not when he had to hide a huge part of his own life.
I should leave. Now. Wake Fergus long enough to say goodbye and thank him for an enjoyable evening. I owe him that courtesy.
Yet he couldn’t bear the thought of walking into that bedroom, seeing that face again, then walking out forever. Not after the way they’d connected, both body and mind. Not after the way they’d held each other as they fell asleep.
One date, one night…for the first time in John’s life, it wasn’t enough.
But maybe it would have to be.
= = =
Fergus woke slowly, languorously, the way one does after the sort of night he’d not had in months, the sort that ends with a pair of orgasms and a pair of smiles.
Another one—a smile, that is—curved his lips now as he reviewed every detail of last night, especially its conclusion. Thanks to John, Fergus had rediscovered his
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