My Prince (16 page)

Harrington curled his lip in a snarl and dropped his cigarette, then twisted the toe of his boot over the top of it. “This isn’t desperation, Alex. This is me giving you a second chance.”

Alex laughed once, without humor. “Seriously? Well, that’s extraordinarily gracious of you, but no thanks.”

He turned to walk away, but Harrington grabbed his arm. George was suddenly by his side again.

“Take your fucking hand off him,” George said. His voice was calm and clear, and all the more threatening for it.

Harrington did as he was told, holding both hands up in a gesture of surrender.

“I’m here for a few days, Amsberg. You know how to get ahold of me.”

“Not gonna happen,” Alex said as Harrington turned and walked away. “Oh fuck. Oh God.”

“You okay?” George asked.

“Where’s the nearest pub?”

“Uh, about two minutes from here.”

“Great. I need a drink.”

He let George lead him blindly down one of Edinburgh’s narrow, steep side streets, then into a dark little pub. It was perfect: dim, old, the smell of whiskey thick in the air.

“Two Glenfiddich, please,” George said to the wizened old man behind the bar. “Actually—make them doubles. Neat.”

“Thanks,” Alex murmured under his breath. He needed this. Some quiet reassurance and a shot of something strong enough to calm his nerves.

George paid the old boy and led them over to a short table with two squat, overstuffed chairs.

“You okay?” he asked, pushing one of the glasses across the table.

Alex nodded, took the glass, and swallowed half of it in one go. “Shit.” He picked up a beer mat and started to turn it rhythmically between his fingers. “I didn’t expect him to turn up like that. Has he been following me? How did he know where I’d be?”

“I’m sure you can find out, if you want to,” George said.

Alex shook his head. “I don’t want to know.”

“It’s not really a secret that you live here,” George said gently.

“I guess. I was just… really unprepared for that.”

“Did he ever hurt you?”

Alex laughed once, a hard sound, even to his own ears. “He was verbally abusive. That’s only something I’ve been able to see since we broke up. He was very controlling, didn’t like me doing anything on my own, hated it when he didn’t know where I was.”

“Social climber?” George asked with grim humor.

“I don’t know. Maybe? Possibly. I can look back on it now—all that time we spent together—and I’m so fucking angry with myself! I can’t believe I let someone walk all over me like that.”

“Tell me.”

It seemed like a lifetime ago now, though in reality only a little over a year since Alex had escaped Cambridge and re-enrolled at Edinburgh University. The administration there were more than happy to have him and made all the accommodations his family had asked for to ensure his safety. In reality, he enjoyed a greater degree of anonymity here than he ever had in Cambridge. And he liked that.

“I used to really look up to him,” Alex said with a sigh. “He was almost a year older than me, even though we were in the same year at school. He had this confident, arrogant swagger, and I guess that’s appealing. You’ve got it too,” he said, giving George a half grin.

“Not like that I don’t.”

“No offense,” Alex said. “I didn’t mean you’re like him. Just that you’ve got that self-assurance too. You’d be surprised at how many people aren’t comfortable in their own skin.”

George shrugged, then motioned for him to carry on.

“I genuinely don’t think about him that much anymore. Once I walked away, it was like a massive weight was lifted from my shoulders. Like I’d been Alex dialed down to number four for the last two years, then all of a sudden I was Alex at ten again. He’d suppressed so much of
me
that I barely even noticed him doing it.”

“I can’t stand this wanker,” George said. He sipped his whiskey again. “I want you to know that.”

“Same. I used to leave my phone unlocked all the time so he could check my messages and make sure I wasn’t cheating on him. Though I was never, ever allowed to touch his. He’d freak out if I did. And whenever I accused him of double standards, he said I had something to hide and he didn’t.”

“That doesn’t make sense at all.”

“I know. He had all my passwords to everything—my e-mails, my Facebook account, all of my log-ins for uni. I actually employed a security expert after we broke up to make sure he was blocked from everything and not able to get into my stuff anymore.”

“Why the hell is he back?” George asked.

Alex guessed the question was rhetorical. He shrugged anyway. “His little Romanian sweetheart obviously kicked him out too. I’m actually pleased. Tomas is a nice person. He deserves better than Harrington.”

“Alex, Voldemort deserves better than Harrington.”

He laughed and realized he felt better already. Alex grabbed his glass and knocked back the rest of his drink, shuddering at the liquor burn.

“Can we go do something?” he said, feeling impulsive.

“Of course. Like what?”

Alex thought for a moment. “Do you want to go wander round the museum?” he asked.

The look in George’s eyes told Alex the significance of the location wasn’t lost on him. As far as Alex knew, neither of them had been back there since they bumped into each other at the charity gala.

“Yeah, go on, then,” George said. He grabbed both glasses and took them back to the bar, then rubbed Alex’s arm before they headed back out into the weak afternoon sunlight.

I
T
WAS
early on Sunday morning when George woke, the springs of his awful bed digging into his shoulder, which ached already from the tackle he’d taken during training earlier in the week. His head throbbed delicately, not enough to make him want to take painkillers, but enough to drive him up and off the uncomfortable mattress.

After a few seconds it became clear what had woken him. Someone downstairs was screaming at someone else. This wasn’t particularly unusual. But at eight o’clock on a Sunday morning it was downright rude.

George stood and stretched, feeling his aching shoulder protest, and grabbed a pair of joggers from the floor of his room. He pulled them on and went to the bathroom, relieved his bladder, then made his way downstairs.

“What the fuck is going on?” he grouched, leaning against the doorframe to the kitchen. Jodie and Dev were scowling at each other, both of them red in the face, while Marvin looked like he’d do anything to get his girlfriend and drag her out of the room. Rather than doing anything about it, he was cowering in a corner.

“We’re out of coffee,” Jodie snapped.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” George muttered, going around her to the cupboard where he kept his groceries. They each had one cupboard assigned to them, plus one bigger pantry for stuff they shared. He had a box of teabags and dumped one into a mug, then poured water from the freshly boiled kettle over the top.

“We’re out of milk too.”

George shrugged at her, dumped the teabag in the sink, and leaned against the counter blowing over the surface of the brew.

“Are you going to put that in the bin?” Jodie asked pointedly, staring daggers at the soggy teabag.

“Nope,” George said. He raised an eyebrow at her.

“Jesus, George, just tidy it up,” Marvin said. The poor guy looked like he was about to cry.

“This is what I mean, Marv,” Jodie said. “This place is a fucking dump and the people who live here are fucking scum. You should move out.”

“Uh, rude,” George said under his breath.

There was a pounding on the wall and George forced back the urge to jump. Simon had the room on the other side of the wall, next to the kitchen, the only bedroom downstairs. He had to put up with far too much of this shit.

“Would you lot shut the fuck up?” he yelled, his voice far too clear. The walls really were paper-thin.

Someone else stumbled down the stairs and George’s lips twitched as he fought back a smile. He wasn’t too bothered about being up early, he had plans for the day anyway. He guessed most of his housemates had hangovers, though, and this was the very early hours of the morning for most of them.

Calum barely raised his head as he went to the pantry and yanked the door open.

“There’s no coffee,” Jodie said tightly. “
Someone
used it all and didn’t replace it or put it on the list.”

“I’ve got teabags if you want one,” George said.

“There’s no milk either,” Jodie added.

“Jodie,” Calum said, his voice thick with Scotland this morning. He rubbed his fists over his eyes. “You’re a bonnie lass an’ all, but right now you got a face like a slapped arse. Shut the feck up.”

George snorted with amusement and failed to hide it behind his mug of tea.

“I don’t know what you’re laughing about,” Jodie said, rounding on him and poking a finger in his general direction. “It’s not like you’re ever here anymore anyway.”

“Where
are
you living at the moment?” Marvin added. George scowled at him. Marvin didn’t have the easiest life, but that was his fault for dating a bloody nutcase. There was no need to shove George under a bus to save his own skin.

“I’ve been busy,” George said evasively.

“Got a girlfriend?” Dev asked, tucking his tongue into his cheek. He’d been making himself invisible after Jodie’s tirade and stepped out from against the wall now, folding his arms over his chest.

“Not bloody likely,” Calum muttered as he messed around with bread and the toaster.

“What do you mean?” Dev asked.

“Georgie’s bent as a nine bob note.”

The room fell deathly, uncomfortably silent. George sipped his tea and shrugged.

“Are you?” Dev demanded.

“What?”

“A… a…
poofter
.”

George huffed a laugh. “If you wanna call it that, yeah.”

“Fucking hell.”

“Don’t worry, you’re safe. I’ve got a boyfriend. And you’re all fuck-ugly,” he added after a moment’s hesitation.

Calum snorted. “I ain’t got a problem with it, mate,” he said easily, taking the butter from the fridge and slathering it all over his toast. “My arse is off limits, though, yeah?”

“Your arse is safe from me,” George agreed generously. He finished his tea, dumped the mug in the sink instead of rinsing it and putting it in the dishwasher, mostly to annoy Jodie, then walked out of the room with his head held high.

A few minutes later, when he got into the shower, it was running freezing cold, no matter what he did to the dials or how hard he punched the unit on the wall. That was enough to make the decision for him—he was going to Alex’s tonight.

George pressed his forehead to the scummy tiles and muttered to himself, “I really hate this house.”

A
LEX
WOKE
slowly.

He was aware that it was early morning, earlier than George usually woke up for sure. Alex would possibly have slept later, were it not for the fingertips skimming softly, seductively up and down his side.

This place, curled up in George’s arms, was achingly familiar now. As was George’s erection pressed against his thigh. George wasn’t touching his own cock, though; he was gently, softly, sweetly teasing Alex’s body.

“Morning,” George said, his voice gruff and low.

“Mornin’,” Alex rasped.

One of George’s fingers circled Alex’s nipple, slowly enough to make him squirm. He was sensitive there, George knew that too, and the quiet teasing was enough to make him rock back against George’s cock.

“Do we have time for this?”

“I have about forty-five minutes before I have to leave for work,” George said.

“We definitely have time,” Alex said, making George laugh.

“You sure? We don’t have to if you don’t want.”

“I want.”

Alex stretched his neck around, welcoming George’s kisses on his lips.

It was incredibly hot to be woken up in this way, to have someone want him so bad that first thing in the morning, before the sun was even up, their bodies were joined together so intimately.

They made love like they slept: Alex curled on his side, George spooning him from behind. Like this, George’s fingers were free to explore all over Alex’s chest and down between his legs. George pressed kisses to that spot just under Alex’s ear, licked his earlobe, and bit down on Alex’s shoulder when Alex clenched down on George’s cock.

Their conversation was each other’s name, just those two words, exchanged back and forth. When he felt his orgasm threatening, Alex groped for George’s hand, finding it just in time and bringing it around to press to his chest while his body shuddered and convulsed, sweet pleasure zinging through his body.

After, they were breathing hard for a few moments, still lost in each other.

George groaned first and leaned in to kiss the shell of Alex’s ear, then moved away.

“Hey, George?”

“Hmm?”

Alex was somewhat aware that his brain had yet to catch up with the rest of his body. He was working on pure instinct.

“Why don’t you move in here?”

Next to him, George froze.

“What?”

Well, now he definitely needed to go through with this.

Alex rolled out of bed and reached for George’s hand, pulling him off the bed and through to the bathroom. They both needed to shower, and his shower was big enough for two, so they could do it together. While Alex turned on the water, George dealt with the condom, then stepped into the still-too-cold water.

“I don’t know how you do that,” Alex said, shaking his head as George shivered under the spray.

“Get in,” George said.

He did, but pressed his body close to George’s, hoping to share body heat until the water warmed up a bit more.

“I’m serious, you know,” he said as George resumed that delicious action of skimming his fingers up and down Alex’s sides. “I want you to live here with me.”

“Why?”

“Why?” Alex echoed, laughing. “Because I like you, you dickhead.”

“I like you too.” George tilted his head to press his lips to Alex’s throat. “I haven’t ever lived with a partner before, though. I could be horrible to live with.”