Page 12 of Waiting for a Prince (Island Tales #1)

Chapter Ten

Sonia threaded her arm through Mark’s as they walked down the hill. He didn’t have the car today so it was taking him out of his way, but he’d wanted the chance to talk with her all that Saturday. Unfortunately, it had been a really busy day for the salon, and the opportunity had never arisen.

Busy day? It had been a busy week .

Then he realized it had been longer than that since they’d had a really good chat.

Real life gets in the way sometimes.

“So, do you have plans for tonight?”

Mark shook his head. “Not really.”

“Not even a trip to Portsmouth?”

He’d thought about it—for all of ten seconds—and he was tired of having nothing but his right hand to play with.

What he really wanted was to call Sam and maybe meet up with him. Again.

Yeah, because I really need to crush on the guy who’s become my best friend.

Mark loved spending time with Sam, although he’d noticed a pattern to their chats.

Sam steadfastly avoided any mention of Rebecca.

Which was fine, in Mark’s opinion, because he didn’t need to be reminded of her existence. But in his quieter moments, he would think back on their conversations. The more he reflected on Sam’s reticence to talk about his girlfriend, the more he became convinced something was going on.

What that something was, however, he had no idea.

“Where are you, Mark? You’re miles away.”

Sonia’s words broke through his internal meanderings. He pulled himself together to find her staring at him in amusement.

“Sorry,” he apologized sheepishly. He tightened his arm around hers.

She pulled a face. “I can’t believe we haven’t had time to chat these last few weeks.” The salon had been fully booked, keeping all the staff very busy, Mark included. “So how were the Cowes fireworks? As spectacular as ever?”

Mark gave a shrug. “I wouldn’t know. I left before they got going.”

Sonia stopped dead, her mouth open. “But you were so looking forward to watching them. What happened, sweetie?” The look of concern in her eyes was touching.

Mark tugged at her arm to keep walking. “Let’s just say my plans got changed.”

Sonia lapsed into silence.

Mark stared out across the Solent toward Portsmouth. I could be over there within the hour. And twenty minutes after that , I could have my dick buried in some guy’s tight arse.

Sure you could, but is that what you really want?

The thought of calling Sam persisted.

God, why am I so fucking stupid? He groaned quietly.

They reached the car park, but instead of going to her car, Sonia pulled him toward the low wall which ran around the perimeter.

She hauled herself up onto it and patted the warm concrete beside her.

“Sit. Now.” Her tone made it clear refusal was not an option.

Mark stared at her and she returned his stare, unblinking.

“I mean it. Stewart hasn’t cooked dinner, because we’re eating with friends tonight and we have plenty of time.

So you’re not keeping me from anything.” Her eyes bored into him.

Mark muttered under his breath as he hopped up onto the wall, swinging his legs around until he sat facing out across the Solent.

He took off his shoes and placed them beside him.

The evening sun was still warm, and he flexed his feet, wiggling his toes.

Sonia kept quiet beside him, and he knew she was waiting for him to make the first move.

Except I don’t know where to start.

“Remember Sam’s girlfriend?”

She snorted. “Oh yeah.”

“Well, she turned up that night.” He told her about his meeting with Sam and Rebecca at Cowes, and how Sam had ditched him. Wrong word, of course. They weren’t on a date, right?

Sonia listened intently. When he’d finished, she cocked her head.

“You really like this guy, don’t you?” Her voice was low.

Mark huffed. “Sonia, I can’t explain it.

When I first laid eyes on him, all I saw was this gorgeous specimen that I wanted in my bed.

” Her rising blush was adorable. “But after that morning on the beach, and then lunch, not to mention the phone calls these last three weeks, the bowling, the karaoke, another day on the beach, the film night…” His words trailed off.

“Phone calls? Bowling? Karaoke?” Sonia stared at him with widened eyes. “I had no idea. He’s really got to you, hasn’t he?”

Mark nodded. “And I don’t have a clue why. I only know he’s great to be with, to talk to. He’s intelligent, warm, funny—not to mention sexy as hell—but undoubtedly straight.”

Sonia chuckled. “Mark, you’re not my only gay friend, you know. I have a few. And I do know from talking with them that most gay guys love the fantasy of turning a straight boy gay.” Her eyes twinkled. “So would this be you indulging in that particular fantasy?”

Mark groaned. “Oh God, I don’t know! If you’d asked me that first Saturday, that would have been easy—yes!

But since then…” He broke off and stared down at the golden sand.

“I can’t get him out of my mind, Sonia. I know it can’t go anywhere, but that doesn’t seem to matter to my brain.

Apparently, I have a crush on a straight guy.

” Except he knew, even as he said the words, that a crush didn’t come close to how he was feeling.

Unfortunately for him, Sonia’s intuition was in fine working order. Her eyes rounded.

“Oh my God.” Mark stiffened beside her, awaiting her next words. “Wow, Mark… when you fall, you fall fast, don’t you, sweetie?”

“I wouldn’t know,” he murmured, shifting his gaze to the sand.

“I’ve never fallen for anyone before.” He heard the hitch in Sonia’s breathing.

He kept his eyes lowered, unable to look at her face.

He felt her hand against his. “Am I that pathetic? All it takes it for some guy to pay me some attention, and I fall head over heels for him?” He scowled.

“Oh, Mark.” The warm tone of her voice was comforting. At last, he raised his eyes to look at her. Sonia gave a deep sigh. “I’m sorry, sweetie. It must be awful, knowing nothing can come of it.”

Mark shrugged. “I’ll live.” It didn’t stop his chest from tightening every time he thought of Sam. He mentally shook himself. “I just need to get my arse over to the mainland and get laid, that’s all.” He plastered a bright false smile onto his face.

Sonia regarded him closely. “Sure.”

She sounds as convinced as I feel.

Mark couldn’t blame her. As performances went, it had been pitiful. She glanced at her watch.

Mark swung his legs around, grabbed his shoes, and slipped his feet into them. He got down off the wall and extended a hand toward her.

“Come on. It’s time you went home to the husband. You’re going out tonight. You need time to get yourself even more beautiful than you are normally.” He attempted a grin.

Sonia laughed. “Ooh, aren’t you quite the smooth talker!” She took his hand as he helped her off the wall, then pulled him impulsively into a tight hug. “Be patient, sweetie,” she murmured into his ear. “Your prince will find you one day, I’m certain of it.”

Mark put his arms around her and squeezed her lightly. “Thanks, love.”

His phone chimed, and glancing down, he saw Sam’s name. He chuckled. Talk of the devil…

Sam: You out of jail yet ? Wanna chat ?

Sonia saw his reaction and gave him another sympathetic glance.

“Sam?” He nodded. “Then I’ll let you talk.

” She kissed his cheek. “I’ll see you on Tuesday.

Have a lovely two days off, and remember—if you need to talk, about anything , you have my number.

” He gave her a grateful nod and she walked toward her car, pausing to wave at him before she got in and drove out of the car park.

Mark began the slow trek along the coast road that led up to Westhill Road and his flat.

He watched the tourists coming off the beach and out of the children’s amusement park, no doubt heading back to their holiday accommodation and whatever delights the evening held for them.

He pulled out his phone and after putting in his earbuds and returning the phone to his pocket, he called Sam.

After only two rings, Sam answered. “Hey. Day over?”

“Yep.” Mark ignored the momentary surge of pleasure that always occurred on hearing Sam’s quiet, deep voice. “Long day.”

There was a pause at the other end. “You got a minute?”

“Sure.” Mark looked across at the Spinnaker Tower, glinting in the evening sun.

Portsmouth beckoned, with its siren call of gay clubs and bars, and the lure of anonymous sex in seedy bathrooms. That last thought brought with it a brief stab of discontent.

Is it too much to hope I can meet someone who actually wants to take me home to his bed ? Or who wants to come home with me ?

His heart ached for that.

“How do you feel about meeting up for a drink tonight?”

Mark stopped in his tracks and closed his eyes. Tell him no. Go to Portsmouth, find a willing guy and fuck him senseless. You’ll feel better for it . Don’t torture yourself .

Even as the thought crossed his mind, his traitorous mouth went into action. “Sounds great. Where and when?” He couldn’t stop himself.

“Wetherspoons at seven? That too early? If you haven’t eaten by then, we could always grab something. They do food, don’t they?” There was something in Sam’s voice he couldn’t quite decipher.

In the end, that was what decided it for him.

“Yeah, that’s fine. I’ll meet you there at seven.”

“Fantastic.” There was no escaping the note of relief in Sam’s voice. “See you then.” Sam hung up.

Something was up.

Mark pulled off the earbuds and stuffed them into his pocket. Despite the logical part of his brain yelling at him that this was going nowhere, he couldn’t fight off the warm feeling which coursed through him at the thought of seeing Sam.

Fuck, he had it bad.