Page 65 of Playing to Win

“Say ‘book the flights, Andrew.’”

Colin kept his hands at his sides, resisting the urge to cling to the man on his lap. “It’s too much. I can’t accept—”

“Firstly, shh.” Andrew put a finger to Colin’s mouth and held it there. “Secondly, it’s not too much. What’s the point of money if not to make people happy?”

“But you could—”

“Thirdly, shh.” Andrew kissed him quickly, then placed his finger back on Colin’s lips. “I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking I should take the money I’d spend on our New York jaunt and give it to the poor. You’re thinking that money could put food in children’s stomachs or books in their hands.”

This was only half the reason for Colin’s protest. He nodded anyway, unable to explain the other half.

“But I’m not going to do that,” Andrew said. “I’m going to spend it wantonly on myself and my chosen companion. I’m going to enjoy life in the certainty that my enjoyment does not decrease that of others by one whit.” He removed his finger and sat back, folding his hands together. “Happiness is not a zero-sum game. Your misery doesn’t leave more joy available for others.”

Colin’s face heated. “Listen, you don’t know what it’s like to scrimp and save and account for every penny.”

“And you don’t know what it’s likenotto do that.” Andrew reached out and cupped Colin’s cheek. “I want you to know. I want you to be able to take, without thinking of it as takingfrom. I want you to see life as something other than a battle.”

Colin pushed his hand away. “Where’s all this New Age pish coming from? Are you gonnae start quoting fromThe Secret? Tell me to put positive thoughts out into the fuckin’ universe and good things’ll magically—”

“No! That’s not it at all. Look…” Andrew scrambled off Colin’s lap and got to his feet. Then he strode to the bottom of the spiral staircase. “Remove your shoes and come with me.”

“I thought no one went up there but you.”

“Correct.” His nervous glance flicked upward, then back at Colin. “Until now.”

Colin felt frozen to the couch. He wanted to accept this gift, wanted to be happy about it, but how could he dare, when Andrew could rescind it at any moment?

One step at a time, he told himself. Following Andrew upstairs wouldn’t kill him—not unless he really was hiding dead bodies up there.

The staircase’s spiral was so tight, Colin couldn’t look to the side without getting dizzy, so he kept his eyes on Andrew’s bare feet as they ascended to the storage area.

Which was not a storage area.

“Oh.” Colin kept his voice to a whisper, as this place seemed sacred as a church. A smooth blue mat lay spread in the center of the empty space. Along the single low wall stood a row of candles, a small speaker, and a pair of teapots, one of which was shaped like a fish.

Andrew crossed his arms, holding his elbows. “This is where I do yoga and meditate.” He shifted his weight slightly. “I try, anyway.”

“How long have you been…”

“Practicing? Six years.”

Colin wondered what would make a fourteen-year-old boy decide to take up yoga and meditation. “So you’ve found Nirvana and all?”

Andrew chuckled. “The yogi philosophy doesn’t exactly come natural to me. My consciousness resists all expansion efforts.” He took a step closer to Colin. “Until recently.”

The look on his face sent a shiver over Colin’s nape.

“I know you’re afraid,” Andrew said, “and with good reason. But I just want—” He lifted his hands, then let them drop to his sides. “I just want to make you as happy as you deserve to be. Will you let me? Or will you fight me on this, too?”

Andrew’s silver-blue eyes were more open and vulnerable than Colin had ever seen them outside of bed. Perhaps he truly meant what he’d said last week, that the games were over. It scared the piss out of Colin, because if this wasn’t a game, then he couldn’t win.

He also couldn’t lose. Right?

Colin’s small step forward felt like a giant leap. “Book the tickets, Andrew.”

CHAPTERSEVENTEEN

THENEXTTENdays—excepting the weekend, when Andrew had an exhibition opening to be seen at in Mayfair, followed by the obligatory late-night carousing at Mahiki—found him and Colin inseparable. On the Tuesdays and Thursdays, Colin arrived directly after practice, dressed in full kit and covered in sweat and mud, which was how Andrew fancied him best. Dinner was late those nights, after they’d played some version of “naughty footballer and bent referee.”

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