Page 13 of Waiting for a Prince (Island Tales #1)

Chapter Eleven

Mark was having a good time. Well, he would have been having a great time, but for the worrying feeling that had prodded him continually.

When are you going to tell me why we’re here, Sam?

He could have this all wrong. Sam might have been in need of a pint or three after a long couple of days’ work. After spending hours staring at a laptop or monitor, he was probably in dire need of human interaction.

All very logical assumptions.

Mark’s instinct told him otherwise.

Something was going on.

Wetherspoons was heaving. They’d been able to grab a booth to the rear of the bar, a great vantage point from which to see everything going on.

He and Sam chatted about films and music, the way they’d done at past meetups.

The conversation was light and amusing, and yet Mark was constantly aware of an undercurrent.

He caught it in Sam’s facial expressions, his tone of voice—something never fully seen but only glimpsed now and again.

And as the evening wore on and Sam made no mention of whatever was on his mind, Mark decided that maybe he’d got it wrong after all. His mind was playing tricks on him.

It wasn’t until after Mark had bought the third round that he plucked up the courage to ask the question that had been on the tip of his tongue all night.

“Don’t you think it’s time we discussed the elephant in the room?”

Sam frowned. “I don’t think Wetherspoons could afford the insurance to have an elephant in here. Plus, they’d have to take out so many tables to accommodate it, it’d slash their profit margin.”

Mark wasn’t about to be steered away from the subject by humour.

“I remember this coming up in an English class. Luke Pennington—I think it was Luke—said the elephant was a person or an issue. Mrs Brophy said that wasn’t true. What created an elephant in the room was avoidance.”

Sam was suddenly very still.

“She said it was our aversion to addressing something, or doing nothing to resolve something, that gave the elephant life.” Mark took a long drink from his glass, then looked Sam in the eye. “So let’s talk about what you’re avoiding.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Sam’s voice was barely audible above the noise of the pub.

“I’m talking about why you’re with Rebecca. I know it’s none of my business, but?—”

“You’re right, it isn’t.” Sam set his jaw.

Mark tried another tack. “Sam, mate, it’s obvious you’re not happy with her. You never mention her. If I bring her up, you change the subject. So why do you stay with her? You two haven’t been going out for that long. If it isn’t working out…”

Sam froze, and Mark gave himself a mental kick.

Subtle, Mark, really subtle . About as subtle as a sledgehammer.

Sam wouldn’t meet his gaze but stared resolutely into his pint glass. “Look, I really don’t want to talk about this right now, okay?”

Mark wasn’t backing down though, not this time. The alcohol might have had something to do with that.

He stuck out his chin. “See, you say that, but I keep getting this weird feeling you want to tell me something. And I think it has something to do with Rebecca.” He levelled a forthright stare at Sam. “So tell me I’m wrong.”

It was as though Sam folded in on himself, making himself smaller. His breathing was shallow, his eyes wide. His hands were clenched.

Mark could almost taste his panic.

Back off. Right now.

He held up his hands. “All right, all right, I’m sorry. Let’s change the subject.”

“Good idea,” Sam mumbled as he got up from his seat in the corner of the crowded bar. “It’s my turn to get the drinks in. Same again?”

Mark nodded and watched as Sam edged his way through the tightly packed crowd which had gathered at the bar. It was a warm night and the huge bifold front window of the bar had been opened up to let in the night air.

Mark stared glumly at the table, where the empty bowl stood from the chips they’d shared earlier.

Way to go, Mark . Why couldn’t you just leave it alone ?

He cursed himself for putting his foot in it.

Make it right.

Once Sam returned to the table, Mark was going to bring the conversation back to lighter topics. He only hoped his outburst hadn’t soured the mood for the rest of their evening together.

That feeling of something hovering out of view didn’t dissipate, however.

`“So when did you first know you were gay?”

Mark blinked. “Huh?”

Sam’s words were less distinct. That probably had something to do with the number of beers he’d consumed in the last three hours.

He wasn’t at the slurring stage yet, but Mark could tell he was definitely trying to speak more deliberately.

His earlier mood appeared to have been forgotten, much to Mark’s relief.

“You heard me.”

Mark chortled. “You’re pissed.” Not that he wasn’t in the same state.

Sam’s eyebrows shot up. “Am not!” he exclaimed indignantly. He gave Mark a wicked grin that made his knees go weak. “Anyway, answer the question.” He leaned forward and put his elbows on the table, resting his chin in his hands, staring at Mark in rapt attention. “I’m all ears.”

God, he’s cute when he’s had a few.

And apparently not about to drop the subject .

Mark sighed. “Okay, okay… I was fifteen.” His mind went back instantly to what had been, for him, a defining moment.

“I thought my lack of interest in girls was due to the fact that the girls in my year at school seemed to be uncommonly ugly.” Sam snorted.

“Yeah, okay, there were a few lookers, sure, but not one girl who got my heart racing, if you know what I mean.”

Sam’s eyes gleamed. “But someone else did, I take it?”

Mark stilled as he recalled glancing across the classroom during an English lesson, listening to David Elmwood reading aloud a John Donne poem.

For the first time, Mark heard every word.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away. He was struck by David’s clear complexion and startling blue eyes.

The way his shiny, short black hair lay in soft layers, framing his heart shaped face.

Those rose-coloured lips as they mouthed the beautiful words.

It hadn’t mattered to him that David had a girlfriend.

What shocked Mark to the core was his physical reaction to his fellow student.

Mark got hard.

“You know what it’s like when you’re a teenager.

A gentle breeze can trigger a stiffy. Sitting weird on the bus.

Gravity. Random shit.” He took a drink. “Well, I got my first erection from looking at a guy. It was the last thing I expected, and I had to cross my legs to hide it. I was convinced everyone could see it.” He chuckled.

“I pulled my sweater down really fast to cover up my crotch.” And of course, no one had noticed.

“But it was so weird. Once it had happened, it seemed that everywhere I looked around school, there were all these cute guys I’d never noticed before.

It was as if I’d been wearing blinkers my whole life, and suddenly, they were taken off. ”

And while none of the girls had got his heart racing, there’d been plenty of boys who did.

“Did you have a boyfriend while you were at school?”

Mark guffawed. “Oh, you have got to be kidding me! I don’t know what the students were like in your year, but in mine?

If you did something stupid, you were told, ‘Oh, that’s really gay .

’ It was the standard insult.” He shook his head.

“No way was I ever coming out while I was at school.” Sam nodded in acknowledgment.

“Come to think of it, I didn’t really come out at college, either.

It was difficult enough talking to other students, let alone coming on to one of them.

It took me another two years to pluck up the courage to offer someone a blowjob.

I’d been getting a vibe from this one guy on and off for what seemed like ages, so when I found myself alone with him in the college toilets, I went for it.

” Mark smiled to himself as he recalled how nervous he’d been.

“God, I was shaking the whole time, expecting him to lay into me and beat me up.”

“But he didn’t, right?” A crease appeared between Sam’s eyes. Mark was touched by Sam’s concern.

He gave Sam a reassuring smile. “No, he didn’t.

In fact, he loved it that much, it became a steady thing.

Once or twice a week we’d meet up in the toilets.

I’d suck him off, or him me. It took me a longer time to get him to fuck me, however.

” That first time was definitely not something Mark wanted to share.

He glanced keenly at Sam. “You sure you’re okay with this conversation?” Sam showed no signs he was about to expire of embarrassment, Mark had to admit. The only reaction was the blush on his cheeks.

“Nah, it’s fine,” Sam said with a wave of his hand. “I don’t shock easily.” His eyes sparkled. “So you were, what, seventeen, eighteen when you lost your virginity?”

Mark nodded. “Which was late compared to some of my classmates. Hell, there were Year Ten girls sitting in the school canteen, discussing how they’d been spit-roasted the previous weekend.

They were fourteen, fifteen at the most.” He leaned back into his chair and folded his arms. “But enough about my lamentable sex life. Now it’s your turn.

” He winked—and then caught his breath as Sam’s lips pressed together in a slight grimace, that killer smile wavering slightly.

Sam’s mouth opened and closed and he pulled nervously at his earlobe. “Sam. You okay?”

“Sure,” Sam croaked and then he cleared his throat. “Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Now that was interesting.

“Sam? Something you wanna tell me?” Mark lifted his eyebrows.