Page 36

Chapter 12

There may have been an upside, Colin now realized, to being trapped in Andrew’s flat for all those weeks. During his recovery, he and Andrew could forget they came from two different worlds. During the Cocoon Days, they were just two men in love.

Now, surrounded by the posh set at this upscale Covent Garden restaurant, Colin was continuously reminded of the chasm between them. Every time he opened his mouth to greet one of Andrew’s friends or eat a peculiar food, it was clear he was just a Glasgow hooligan in borrowed Armani.

“Felicity, you look amazing!”

Colin hung back as Andrew embraced the book launch’s guest of honor, a tall woman with a silky blond bob and a sleeveless blue dress that highlighted her extreme fitness level.

“Thank you so much for coming, Drew.” The reality-show host squealed when she saw Colin. “Ooh, it’s your famous beau!”

“The one and only.” Andrew made the introductions, sweeping his glass of red wine between them. “It’s his first time amongst this madding crowd, so be gentle.”

“Don’t let him frighten you,” she said to Colin. “We’re perfectly normal.”

Then I definitely won’t fit in. Colin untied his tongue enough to blurt, “Congratulations on your book!”

After a half-second pause—perhaps to decipher his accent—Felicity beamed and thanked him. The three of them then chatted for a few minutes about the recipes Andrew had used to “facilitate Colin’s recuperation.”

When she moved off to greet another guest, Andrew whispered, “Thanks for not mentioning all the takeaway curries and fish suppers I fed you during exams.”

Colin snickered. “Talking of uni, are you skiving off tomorrow morning’s lectures? We’ll not be back in Glasgow till at least noon.”

Andrew’s face pinched. “It’s fine. I’ll get notes from a classmate.” He lifted his wine glass as if to sip, then muttered a soft curse when he saw it was empty. “Come on, let’s try one of Felicity’s specialty drinks. I hear there’s an amazing gin cocktail with rhubarb and fennel.”

Colin scowled, but followed dutifully. He’d lost track of how many drinks Andrew had had since they’d left Glasgow, between the train ride to London and the first hour of this party. He longed to join Andrew’s bender—booze would make mingling a lot easier—but between Colin’s nerves and the fancy food, his stomach was warning him against anything stronger than seltzer water.

On their way to the bar, Andrew was greeted every ten feet by another prominent, polished person, some minor celebrity or London socialite Colin sensed he should’ve recognized. He forced smiles for countless selfies until his cheeks hurt from the effort, all while feeling guilty for having crippled his boyfriend’s social life for so long. Clearly Andrew’s presence here was an event in itself.

When they finally found a moment alone, Andrew turned to him and asked, “Is this party really so awful?” His cajoling tone didn’t match the piercing look in his eyes.

Colin shrugged. “The food’s good, though half the time I don’t know what I’m eating.”

Andrew frowned, no doubt noticing Colin hadn’t said he was enjoying the company. “I know some of these people are pretentious, but they’re just human beings. Don’t be scared.”

“I’m not scared,” Colin snapped.

“Then why can’t you say more than one sentence to each of them? You’re usually so gregarious.”

Only with regular people. “I’m out of practice.”

“So am I, but?—”

“Are you ashamed of me?”

“Never.” Andrew placed a hand on Colin’s chest as if to soothe him. “I simply want you to be happy.” The dig of his fingertips through Colin’s shirt belied his words.

“You want me to fit in with this crowd, and I—” Colin cut himself off, refusing to say I can’t. “I’ll try harder.”

“Thank you.” Andrew’s touch turned soft as he cupped Colin’s jaw. “I’d be proud to take you anywhere.”

“Even if I cock things up?”

“ Especially if you cock things up.” Andrew kissed him, tasting of gin and vegetables. “More entertaining that way.”

Colin tried to laugh, but he couldn’t help remembering his mum’s words when he told her he was going to this party: “Careful you don’t make a fool of yourself.” Even his dad, normally so supportive, had said, “You’re mixing with a different sort now.”

“Derek!” Andrew’s arms spread as he greeted a bald man with a white goatee and tan jacket.

“Lord Andrew, it’s been ages. Wherever have you been hiding?”

“Here and there, as always.” Andrew put an arm around Colin. “Derek Lawson, may I present Colin MacDuff, my boyfriend and also the man who literally saved my life.”

Derek offered a friendly smile and a firm-but-not-domineering handshake. “I recognized you from this one’s last YouTube video. There’s been rather a drought of those lately,” he added with a nudge for Andrew.

Andrew looked uneasy for a moment, but then recovered. “What with the legal circus around me, I was advised to stop publicly airing my every thought.”

“Wise,” Derek said, “though I can’t say I professionally approve.”

“Hah!” Andrew turned to Colin. “Derek is the executive producer of Felicity in the Raw . He’s done all sorts of reality programming, so he’s not a massive fan of privacy.”

Colin looked around. “Is this conversation being filmed, then?”

Derek burst into laughter, though Colin hadn’t meant it as a joke. “Not that I’m aware of. So Colin, I’ve heard all about your act of heroism, but I’m curious—what’s next for you? I bet you’re looking forward to a normal life again.”

“I’m not sure what that is anymore.” Colin glanced at Andrew, who gave him an approving smile. “But aye, I cannae wait.”

As they discussed his plans for university and football, Colin began to relax, grateful someone seemed interested in him as more than a curiosity. Maybe with a bit of luck and practice, he could navigate Andrew’s world after all.

* * *

One less thing to worry about , Andrew thought as he watched his boyfriend get on famously with Derek. It had been unnerving to see Colin even more restrained than when he’d first met the family last year at Dunleven Castle.

Which left Andrew with one towering concern—that his own flimsy self-control would snap any moment. He’d not been in a place so loud and crowded since his attempted abduction. It seemed a million conversations were taking place at once, the words bombarding him like a swarm of midges.

This edginess was giving him the oddest urge to phone Evan. Perhaps he’d been too hasty in his judgment of the man. Spooky or not, he seemed to understand how Andrew felt.

You can do this, he told himself. Just stay close to Colin. Andrew pulled at his collar, wishing he’d worn his D&G linen blazer instead of this Burberry wool-cashmere thing. With the restaurant at full capacity, the heat in here was becoming oppressive.

At least his drink was cold. Andrew took another gulp of his celery gin and tonic.

Suddenly a hand grasped his elbow. “Drew!”

Swallowing a shriek of alarm, Andrew turned to see Marcus Wynn-Garvey, one of his closest London mates. “Oh…hi.” He pasted on a smile as he extended a hand to shake. Marcus gave it a puzzled look but took it anyway. Andrew felt bad—they were close enough to greet with an embrace, but he’d already exceeded his tolerance for hugs tonight.

“It’s been ages,” Marcus said. “How are you?”

“Oh…you know.” It had been ages, he realized with a pang of guilt. Marcus had offered to visit several times since the attack, but Andrew had declined again and again.

“God, you look pale.” Marcus gave him the once-over. “I knew I should have dragged you away to Bali with me for the holidays.”

Bali. Andrew knew he’d been there during his gap years, but tonight it sounded like an alien planet he’d visited in a previous life. Even the room around him felt unreal, like he was watching himself act in a film.

“We just got back last night, as you can see from my tan.” Marcus’s hands framed his own face. “You would’ve loved what they’ve done to the resort since we were there last. Though I imagine you would’ve hated missing your brother-in-law’s sentencing. Congrats on that, by the way.”

“Erm, thanks.” No one else at tonight’s party had mentioned Jeremy—either they didn’t know, didn’t care, or were too polite. Andrew glanced at Colin, looking for an opening to introduce Marcus without interrupting the conversation with Derek. The sooner Colin met everyone, the sooner they could leave this suffocating sauna.

Marcus stepped closer. “Tell me, Drew, how are your family getting on? This can’t be easy for Lady Elizabeth and the children.”

Andrew’s memory flashed his sister’s expression in the courtroom, one of a woman staring at not only a desolate future but an illusive past. “They’re managing.”

“So there’ll be a divorce?”

“That’s the plan.” Andrew heard the ice rattling in his cocktail as his hand began to tremble. He raised his voice to cover the sound. “Why, you fancy becoming my new brother-in-law?”

“Your sister could do worse.” Marcus smoothed back his hair in a mock-preen. “Say, isn’t your birthday soon? Don’t tell me you’ve left me off the guest list.”

“Of course you’ll be invited.” Andrew’s head spun at the thought of hosting—or even attending—his annual bash. “I thought this year I might do something a bit more intimate.”

“So only two hundred people, then?” Marcus asked with a chortle. His eyes suddenly popped wide. “Oh my God, is that your new boyfriend?”

Andrew turned, then froze when he saw Colin lifting the front of his shirt, displaying his bare abdomen to Derek Lawson. Illuminated by the nearby bar light, Colin’s scars seemed to flare a deep, oozing red.

No… Andrew couldn’t just stand by and watch. Not this time.

He reached over and yanked down Colin’s top. “What are you doing?”

Colin gaped at him. “I was just?—”

“Flashing yourself at strangers in public? Have you lost your mind?”

“But you told me to?—”

“It’s my fault, Lord Andrew,” Derek said in a light, steady voice. “I asked about his scars. You see, I had my gall bladder removed about twenty years ago. I was curious whether the procedure was as invasive as it used to be.” The producer smiled but gave Andrew a pointed look. “Colin’s been through a lot.”

“What he’s been through is a private matter.” Andrew glared at Colin, who was now staring at the floor. “And he should keep it that way.”

Derek shifted uncomfortably. “Then I suppose you wouldn’t be keen on a reality show featuring the Warriors?”

Andrew nearly dropped his glass. “A what?! Why?”

“Their story is fascinating, between the struggles they face on the pitch and the drama in their private lives.”

A sharp pain shot up the back of Andrew’s neck at the thought of a camera and microphone in his own home.

“It wouldn’t be sensationalistic,” Derek continued. “Its aim would be to promote acceptance and awareness. LGBTQ issues are very big right now, so I think the public would go absolutely bonkers over it.”

Andrew put a hand to his head, blinking away a sudden dizziness. How long had he been hyperventilating?

“Of course I’d have to pitch it to the networks,” Derek said, “and obviously Colin needs to discuss it with the team. Right, Col—wait, where’d he go?”

Andrew turned to see his boyfriend had vanished. He scanned the crowd, hoping Colin was merely retrieving a passed appetizer from one of the servers to feed his footballer’s endless hunger. But he was gone.

The room tilted, and there came the crash of broken glass. Cold liquid splashed Andrew’s shin, so whoever had dropped their drink must be close. He should be careful. If he fell now—which seemed likely, given the state of his head—he might cut himself on the shards.

“Mate, what’s wrong?” asked Marcus. “You look about to pass out.”

“Let’s get him some fresh air,” Derek said. “Come, my friend. We’ll take you outside and you’ll be right as rain.”

Strong hands grasped Andrew’s arms, pulling him toward the door.

“Stop!” He jerked free and covered his face. “I’m fine. Nothing happened—” His words cut off as the pain hit his chest. His next breath seemed full of tiny razor blades.

This is what dying feels like.

Shouts rose around him, calling for a doctor or water—or perhaps a doctor with water. He closed his eyes and saw lights flash through his lids, as if the book launch had transformed into a rave.

“Andrew,” came a soft voice, the only one he needed to hear. “It’s me. It’s Colin. Can I touch you?”

Andrew nodded, reaching out to clutch Colin’s soft silk shirt. He wanted to flee, but his muscles had turned to bone.

Colin’s warm hand met his shoulder. “Can you walk with me a wee bit? Maybe outside?”

“Shall I ring for an ambulance?” Marcus asked. “He was clutching his chest. Could it be a heart attack?”

Colin murmured to Andrew, “Is this like what happened Sunday before last?”

Andrew nodded again. But worse, so much worse. Oh God, all these people.

“Nae ambulance, thanks,” Colin told Marcus. Then he spoke again, this time to a woman to his right. Andrew could hear but a few words through the maelstrom in his head, something about “nice and quiet.”

Colin spoke his name softly. “We’re gonnae go to the manager’s office instead of outside. She’s bringing some water. Can you come with me?”

Andrew nodded a third time, his neck squeaking like rubber. He forced his eyes open, then walked with Colin toward the side of the restaurant. The crowd parted to let them through. His skin prickled at the assault of so many gazes—and phone cameras, no doubt.

“I want to go home,” he whispered to Colin.

“We will,” Colin said, “as soon as you’re feeling better.”

“I’m fine. I just drank too much.”

“Well, half that statement is true.” Colin put a steadying palm on Andrew’s back as the manager opened her office door.

Andrew paused at the threshold. The office was clean and spacious, with no dark corners. The worn leather sofa promised respite for his wobbly knees.

“Thank you,” he said to the manager as he slumped onto the couch. His heart was still racing, and his neck and shoulders felt full of live wires.

“Here’s your water and cloth,” she told Colin, “and also my card with my mobile number in case you need anything else. Otherwise I’ll leave you be.”

“Thanks,” Colin said. “You’re a star.”

“I’ve been where he is, and it’s not fun.” She turned to Andrew. “Be well, sir.”

Andrew’s words had abandoned him, so he gave only a quick nod.

The door shut as she left, muting the restaurant’s cacophony. In the relative silence, Andrew could hear his pulse thumping in his ears.

Colin sat beside him and dipped the bar cloth into one of two glasses of ice water. “It might not feel like it, but you’re gonnae be okay. We’ll get through this.”

Andrew took the cloth, wiped his face and neck, then handed it back to Colin to soak again.

“Not too cold, is it?” Colin said. When Andrew shook his head, Colin continued, “Not like that night we went swimming in your lake, remember?”

Andrew draped the cloth over the back of his neck, letting it absorb the heat radiating off him. “I remember the loons,” he said hoarsely.

“That was beautiful. I’ll miss your boathouse. But we’ll find another place where we can swim at night and hear loons and freeze our baws off.”

Andrew couldn’t reply, as he was hit by another wave of…whatever this was seizing and squeezing his body and mind.

“Let’s just breathe, okay?” Colin said. “In through the nose and out through the mouth. Like you taught me.”

Andrew gripped the edge of the sofa as Colin counted off the seconds for each inhalation and exhalation, gradually increasing the time. It took an eternity to manage even a four-second breath.

“That’s it,” Colin said. “You’re a pure legend.”

“I’m not.” Andrew shook his head, which made it throb even harder. “I quit uni.” He closed his eyes, bracing for recrimination.

Colin gave a soft gasp. Then after a moment he said, “All right.”

“‘All right’? How is that all right?”

“You did what you needed.”

“But what am I going to do?”

“I don’t know, Andrew. But whatever it is, I’ll support you. Not financially, of course, as I don’t think I could keep you in what you’d consider a proper lifestyle. But in every other way, I’ll be there. On one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“Show me a yoga pose.”

Andrew blinked at him. “Sorry?”

“What’s that one we do at the end, the one I said was my favorite cos it’s so easy?”

Somehow the word popped into his reeling head. “Balasana. Child’s pose.”

“That’s it.” Colin dropped to the floor on his hands and knees. “Gonnae remind me how it’s done?”

Steadying himself against the sofa, Andrew knelt beside Colin. First he sat back on his heels, then extended forward, arms out, until his forehead met the carpet, which was quite clean. Thank God I had a panic attack in a decent venue.

Colin stretched out beside him. “I know I’m meant to keep my arse on my heels, but it won’t stay. Guess my quad flexibility needs work.”

Andrew shivered as the ripples of heat flowing over his head suddenly changed to chills. His stomach began to unclench, but his eyes seemed ready to burst. “Is this what being stabbed was like? The pain? Your own breath feeling like the enemy?”

“Honestly, I don’t remember much pain,” Colin said. “Must’ve been in shock. Or maybe I blocked the memory.”

“Out there in the restaurant, I felt I could die.”

“God, Andrew…I’m so sorry I walked away from you.”

“I was being a shit. Don’t blame yourself.”

“But I’m so good at it.” Colin sighed. “I wish you’d told me you were feeling more dire this last week.”

“It’s not as if you didn’t ask a million times. I didn’t want to disappoint you. And now I’ve made it all worse.”

“Naw, you’ve not. If anything?—”

“They’re talking about me right now on the other side of that door. In an hour it’ll be all over the internet, and once again you’ll be dragged into my drama.”

“I don’t care.”

“ I care. Colin, you’ve already paid a massive price for being my boyfriend. You almost died for me.”

“I know.” His touch on Andrew’s arm was as soft as his tone was firm. “I also know you’d do the same for me.”

“In a heartbeat.”

“Well, then. There you go.” Shifting slightly, Colin sighed again. “Och, I forgot how relaxing this position is.”

Andrew dug his fingertips into the carpet, letting the rough fibers anchor him to this world.

“I’ve not practiced yoga much lately,” Colin said. “My training’s been more, I don’t know, athletic. Lifting weights, running sprints. Trying to get back to match fitness.”

“Uh-huh.” Andrew felt his pulse begin to slow. Behind his eyelids, the dancing spots went from a foxtrot to a slow waltz.

“I was so focused on getting tough and fast, I forgot how much yoga built up my strength.”

“You’ve always been strong,” Andrew said, “even when you were weak.”

“Pish.”

“It’s true.” He reached out and touched Colin’s shoulder. “You never stopped being mon lion .”

Colin gave a skeptical grunt. Then, after a long, silent moment, he added, “Roar.”

* * *

A quarter of an hour later, Andrew and Colin were ensconced in the back of a London cab heading toward their hotel. The adrenaline had finally left Andrew’s body, leaving him feeling like a wrung-out sponge.

“I can’t stop thinking about Elizabeth,” he said, watching the lights of Covent Garden shops and restaurants stream past. “I did this to her.”

“Jeremy did this to her,” Colin said with a growl. “To all of us.”

“But he wouldn’t have felt compelled to contain me if I’d not been such a drama queen.” He twisted the handle of his Felicity in the Raw swag bag. “Or if I’d never been born.”

Colin said nothing for a long moment. Then he spread the fingers of his left hand and touched the littlest one. “See how this yin’s a wee bit bent?” He held up his right hand for comparison.

Andrew squinted at Colin’s left pinky, which was slightly bowed out relative to the ring finger. “What happened?”

“I hurt it playing football about two years ago. Ran into the goal post trying to score a header. Thought it was just jammed or sprained, but it kept swelling up, so finally I went to the doctor and he said it was fractured.”

“How long did it take to heal?”

“Nearly six weeks,” Colin said. “I needed physiotherapy just to be able to—well, do anything, especially since I’m left-handed. My physio told me that without the pinky, a hand loses fifty percent of its strength.” He took Andrew’s right hand and traced a line down the outside of his wrist and forearm. “See, that finger’s attached to all these muscles that help close the hand and all.”

A lump formed in Andrew’s throat. “Right,” he said with a slight cough.

“Plus the pinky sits out here on the edge with no protection. That makes it the most vulnerable to injury.” Colin linked his bent pinky with Andrew’s straight one. “Pure unfair, when you think about how important it is.”

Andrew pulled in a deep, slow, steady breath, but it came out shaky. “You had a doctor and a physiotherapist. So what you’re saying is, it took a whole team of people to fix it.”

“Aye,” Colin said without looking up. “But now it’s fine. Does everything I need it to do.” He took Andrew’s hand and clasped it tight. “See?”

“Yes.” Andrew laid his head on Colin’s shoulder, and though they were four hundred miles from their cocoon of a flat, he felt entirely at home. “I do see.”