Playing With Fire (Glasgow Lads Book 3) (30 page)

“Sixteen is the only number you need.”

“Sixteen?”

“Inches of rain. In a year.” Liam gestured to the hotel’s outer walls. “Can you even imagine? Seeing the sun nearly every day? I’d move there in a heartbeat.”

“You would? You’d leave me?”

Liam opened his mouth to say,
Yes, I would
, but instead stuffed a giant bite of pancake inside.

“I’m not you, Liam. I wouldn’t do it in a heartbeat.” Robert picked up his cutlery and shifted the food on his plate without eating it. “And if you got a chance to leave, I would ask to come with you.”

Liam’s lips froze around the fork in his mouth. “Mph mm-hmph?”

“I don’t know if America’s immigration laws are as strict as ours. But we could look into it—that’s
if
I get an offer, which I probably won’t. A company like RFG must be interviewing dozens of recruits.”

With great difficulty due to his drying mouth, Liam chewed his pancake, then swallowed, washing it down with a sip of tea. “I could never go so far from my family. They need me, especially with the new baby on the way. If I’m gone, it all falls to Marianne. What if she had to quit her job to help Ma? She might never get another one, and she’ll end up back on welfare, at the mercy of those government bastards.”

Plus, the thought of trying to fit in with Silicon Valley geniuses made Liam hyperventilate. It wouldn’t take long for Robert to see him for what he was—a useless wee ned with no future.

“You
can’t
leave or you don’t want to?”

“I don’t want—” Liam turned his head and pressed his fist against his lips. “I don’t want things to change.”

“Things always change.” Robert reached across the table and took his hand. “Sometimes for the better, right?”

It took all of Liam’s self-control not to rip his hand away or check to see if anyone was watching. He reminded himself that they were surrounded by a class of people who knew how to hide their prejudices, assuming they even had them in the first place.

“Don’t give up on us because of this,” Robert said. “Not now, when we’ve finally got started.” His grip tightened on Liam’s hand. “Don’t leave me.”

Leave him
, commanded a voice inside Liam.
Tell him you don’t feel the same as he does. Make it easy for him to go.

“I know it’s scary,” Robert said, “but please have faith in me. In us. We’ll make it work if we want it.” He swallowed hard. “Do you want this?”

There it was—Liam’s opening, a chance to give his best friend the life he deserved. All he had to do was say no, and Robert could break free. He’d never become like Liam’s customers, his arse stuck to a barstool, moaning about his dead-end job. He’d never drink himself into the grave to escape a miserable life.

It’s what a good mate would do, sacrifice his own happiness for the one he loved.

Liam bowed his head and ordered his hand to let go of Robert’s, to slip their fingers apart for the last time. But it just wouldn’t obey.

“Aye,” Liam whispered. “I want this.”

R
OBERT
SAT
BACK
in his desk chair and rubbed his screen-weary eyes. Despite hours of online research, which he’d begun upon his return home from the hotel this afternoon, he’d completely failed to find a reason not to work for Ready Fire Game.

Of course he’d gratefully accepted the interview, scheduled for Wednesday evening over Skype. He needed the practice, even if he ultimately decided he and RFG weren’t a good match.

But they were. Ready Fire Game was still small, but they were ambitious and well-funded, ready to grow into a major player. Their products were brilliant and cutting-edge. They’d challenge Robert’s skills and let him develop into what he’d always dreamed of being—a breaker of new ground, a storyteller, and an artist, all in one.

Many of his university colleagues craved the prestige of working for a big, famous company, the sort that had pioneered the video game renaissance of Robert’s childhood. But there he’d be a cog in the machine, specializing in one tiny aspect. It would be years before he’d have his hands in design or decision-making.

Assuming he lasted that long. In his experience at uni, burnout came not from working
a lot
but rather from seeing
no purpose
in that work. The entrepreneurs he’d met at career expos—who all worked sixty or seventy hours a week—seemed happier and more alive than “normal” people did during a seaside holiday.

At a place like Ready Fire Game, he’d learn firsthand how to run a business. Between his salary and stock options, he could end up with enough capital to start his own company one day.

Robert closed his eyes to imagine it—him, captain of his own ship, his survival depending solely on himself, not on the whims or spreadsheets of a boss who cared not if he lived or died, or whether his spouse had lung cancer, or whether his son was left orphaned. Independent as fuck, he’d be.

He opened his eyes to see the wood-framed photo on his desk, of himself with his parents on his ninth birthday, the last one his mum had lived to see. In the photo, the three of them stood smiling on the then-brand-new Millennium Bridge (which opened two years after the millennium began, but whatever). The pedestrian bridge led directly to the big shiny Science Center on the south side of the Clyde. The same river he’d gazed at last night with Liam.

Robert gave a frustrated sigh. Why, when he imagined himself achieving his dreams, did he always picture himself here in Glasgow? Would it be so terrible to live where rain was the exception and not the rule? What was tying him here, other than fear of the unknown?

The answer was obvious.

He shut down his computer and texted Liam:
Can I come over when you’re off work?

Liam didn’t answer right away. Robert knew not to panic, that even Sunday nights could be busy at Hannigan’s.

Finally his phone dinged with Liam’s reply.
If it’s to break up with me then no. My manager says I need to work forever.

Robert felt a stab in his heart. He was beginning to type,
I just want to see you
when another text from Liam popped up:

Otherwise I’m off at midnight.

= = =

Robert waited outside the front entrance of Liam’s flat, which occupied the top floor above a flower shop on Shettleston Road. Leaning against the building’s cold tan stone, he craved a cigarette more than ever. It was during these down times that he thought of it most.

No one in California smokes.
There he’d probably go weeks or months without seeing the cigarettes that littered the pavement here in Shettleston. Robert recalled how when he and Liam were fourteen, they’d scavenge for “dog ends”—unfinished cigarettes—then smoke them down to the filters, despite the fact they’d been in the mouths of strangers and trampled by dozens of trudging shoes. Looking back, it was a miracle they’d made it out of their teen years alive.

From here Robert could see the source of that miracle—the youth center across the street. The place was closed for the night, its doors and windows covered in stark metal shutters, fully alarmed to protect the many computers within.

Robert could still remember the sound and feel of the cranky old PC he’d first played video games on as a child. Later he’d taken the center’s Saturday course in digital art that led him to dream of making games for a living. He hated the thought of leaving the community center behind for good, though he’d always promised himself that when he made it big, he’d give them loads of money.

Hearing the jingle of keys, Robert turned to see Liam hurrying toward him, breath steaming in the cold air.

“All right, mate?” As Liam opened the front door, he looked as though he wanted to kiss Robert. But he didn’t.

They mounted the first two flights of narrow stairs in silence. Then Liam said over his shoulder, “I thought you had lectures Monday mornings.”

“It’s exam period, so nae more lectures. And my exams are all next week, so…”

“So you can stay over?”

“If you want.”

“Of course I want. I’ll even fetch you a Starbucks in the morning.” They arrived at Liam’s door, which he opened with the required simultaneous key twist and knob jiggle.

Inside, Liam unwrapped his scarf and dropped it on the floor. “You want a drink or—”

“No.”

“Good.” Liam seized Robert and pulled him into a hard, desperate kiss, immediately steering them toward the bedroom. They stumbled over each other on the way, leaving jackets and hats in a trail behind them.

At the threshold, Liam suddenly broke off. “Wait.” He dashed into the living room, where he hit the switch to turn on the heat. Only now did Robert notice how cold the flat was.

As Liam entered the bedroom, Robert backed up, bracing himself for a tackle. When it came, he wrapped his arms around Liam and spun, letting their momentum propel them onto the bed, where the mattress gave a squeal of outrage.

Robert’s breath fled as they wrestled and kissed and clutched at each other. He knew they should probably talk more, about their future together and whether it might take place halfway around the globe. But at this moment, the only things that needed saying were
I want you
and
I want you too
— messages their bodies were more than capable of delivering.

Robert let Liam strip him naked, then watched as he tore his own clothes off, hurling them into the corner as if they offended him for coming between them. He wondered why Liam was moving so fast, not even pausing to touch him or go down on him. But Robert didn’t ask, merely waited to see where this frenetic energy would take them.

“Right.” Liam jerked open his bedside table drawer, then flopped down on his back, provoking another mattress squeak. “Put a condom on and I’ll show you the rest.”

Robert was confused. “Hang on.” He shifted up on the bed to lie beside Liam without touching him. “What happened to your no-anal-between-mates thing?”

“You’re more than a mate to me now.” Liam took Robert’s cock and began to stroke it firmly. “So this is within the bounds of my policy.”

“Stop for a second.” Robert removed Liam’s hand and held onto it so he could think clearly. “You never told me why you’ve got this policy to begin with.”

“Does it matter?”

“Of course it matters.”

Liam’s gaze shifted to the ceiling, his chest rising and falling with hard breaths. He said nothing for nearly half a minute, which in Liam-Time was like a century of silence, so Robert drew the covers up to warm them in the still-cold room.

Finally Liam said, “Tom Hannigan and I were together for months before I told you about him.”

“Okay.” This wasn’t news to Robert. He’d worked out what was going on long before Liam had confirmed it.

“We did nearly everything—
to
each other,
for
each other. It was never one-sided, like the straight lads at school. Tom was almost as experienced with men as I was. Of course, I was twenty and he was thirty, but still.”

Robert simply nodded, tamping down his retroactive jealousy.

“This was the one thing we’d never done. I was okay with that. Some guys don’t enjoy anal. Whatever. It’s not the be-all and end-all of gay existence, contrary to popular belief.”

“Okay,” Robert said again.

“It wasn’t until—” Liam’s breath caught. He pulled it in slowly through his nose, then let it out again through pursed lips. “We finally did it the night before he left me.”

Oh God.
Robert whispered Liam’s name, caressing the side of his hand with his thumb.

“I don’t know why, or what it meant in his mind,” Liam said. “Was it his way of saying goodbye? Or was it—was it his way of deciding?” He finally looked at Robert. “Was it a test I failed?”

Robert felt the weight of his friend’s grief. Worse, he understood what was happening here tonight. Liam was placing his heart in Robert’s hands, knowing he might leave, just like Tom.

“You didn’t fail. How could you? You’re amazing.” Robert laid his head on Liam’s shoulder. “I don’t understand how anyone could leave you.”
Starting with your rat bastard of a father.

“Including you?”

“Especially me.”

“You cannae make that promise.” Liam shifted away to look Robert in the eye. “And I’ll not ask you to.”

“What are you saying?”

“That whatever you’re offering, I’ll take it. If it’s only six months of this, then it’ll still be the best six months of my life.” He swallowed. “I do ask one wee favor, though.”

“What’s that?”

“That tonight’s not—that our first time’s not also our last time.” He gave a quivering smile. “It’s something I’ve never had, doing this twice with the same man.”

Robert kissed him softly. “I think I can manage more than twice.”
More than a hundred times. More than a thousand.
“But we don’t need to start now. No matter what, we’ve got plenty of time.”

“That’s what Hollywood characters say directly before they get hit by a bus or gunned down by terrorists.”

“Then we’ll just have to be careful.” Robert dipped his head to give Liam’s right nipple a lingering lick. “Look both ways before crossing the street. Stay away from high-value targets.” He pulled the tight red nub between his lips.

“Aye, we could do that.” Liam fisted a hand in Robert’s hair. “Or you could just fuck me now.”

“Okay.” Laughing, Robert surged up and kissed him hard. The feel of stubble against his lips sent a delicious anticipation coursing through him. Finally he was going to experience the thing he’d wanted for years, and with the man he loved and trusted most in the world.

He moved down again, investigating every inch of Liam’s body with hands and mouth, pushing off the covers as the heat between them overcame the flat’s chilly drafts. The way Liam sighed his name, first with joy and then with longing, made Robert’s blood sing.

Finally Liam reached over into the bedside table drawer. “Gie’s your hand.” He took the bottle of lube, then pumped a bit onto Robert’s fingertips. “Now put one inside so you can learn the shape of me.”