across the Solent toward Portsmouth.
I could be over there within the hour. And ten minutes
after
that
, I could have my dick buried in some guy’s tight arse.
The thought was tempting. Yet 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 that refusal was not an option. Mark
stared at her and she returned his stare, unblinking. “I mean it. Dave 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.” That stare wasn’t going away.
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 next to him. The evening sun was still warm and he flexed his feet, wiggling his toes. Sonia kept quiet beside
him, obviously waiting for him to make the first move. When he couldn’t take the silence any
more, he told her, slowly at first, about his meeting with Sam and Becky at Cowes. Sonia
listened intently. When he’d finished, she cocked her head.
“You really like this guy, don’t you?” Her expression was serious.
Mark quietened. He found it difficult to put his feelings into words, but he’d give it a
try. “Son, 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 nights out, another
39
and then lunch, not to mention the phone calls these last three weeks, the nights out, another
day on the beach…” His words trailed off.
“Phone calls? Nights out?” 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, Son. I know it can’t go anywhere, but that doesn’t seem to matter to my stupid 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, his eyes locked on the sand. “I’ve never fallen for
anyone before.” He heard the hitch in Sonia’s breathing. He kept his gaze lowered, unable to
look her in the eye. 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 was gazing at him. “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 as 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 didn’t sound convinced. Mark couldn’t blame
her. As performances went, it had been pitiful. She glanced at her watch. Mark saw the look and swung his feet around, grabbing his shoes. He slipped down off the wall and extended a hand
toward her.
40
“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. She 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, Son.”
His phone chimed, and glancing down, he saw Sam’s name. He chuckled. Talk of the
devil…
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 which 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 plugging 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 that 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
.
Even as the thought crossed his mind, his traitorous mouth went into action. “Sounds
41
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 there.” There was something in Sam’s voice that he couldn’t quite decipher.
And 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.
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.
42
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.
Wetherspoons was packed. They’d been able to grab a booth to the rear of the bar, a
great vantage point from which to see everything happening. He and Sam chatted about films
and music, and it had been great to discover they both loved Steven Spielberg’s movies. 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. But 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.
“Why do you put up with her?” he blurted out. His heart sank as Sam froze
momentarily.
Subtle, Mark, really subtle
. Mark kicked himself.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Sam wouldn’t meet his gaze but stared
resolutely into his pint glass. Mark wasn’t backing down though, not this time. The alcohol
might have had something to do with that.
“Sam, mate, it’s obvious you’re not happy with Becky. So why do you stay with her?
You two haven’t been going out for that long.”
Sam’s jaw tightened. “Look, I really don’t want to talk about this right now, okay?”
Mark stuck out his chin. “See, you
say
that, but I keep getting this weird feeling that you want to tell me something. And I think it has something to do with Becky.” He leveled a
forthright stare at Sam. “So tell me I’m wrong.”
Sam regarded him with an expression bordering on panic. There was no question of it.
Mark backpedaled quickly. 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?”
43
Mark nodded and watched as Sam edged his way through the tightly packed crowd
which had gathered at the bar. It was warm tonight and the huge 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
. He cursed himself for putting his foot in it.
Why couldn’t you just leave it alone
? That was it. 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.
* * * * * * * * * *
probably had something to do with the amount of beers he’d consumed in the last three hours.
He wasn’t at the slurring stage yet, but Mark could tell he was trying to speak more
deliberately. His earlier mood appeared to have been forgotten, much to Mark’s relief.
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.” There was that cute grin again.
Mark sighed. “Okay, okay… I was fifteen.” His mind went back 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 no 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 had
heard every word. He hadn’t been able to tear his eyes away. He’d been 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-colored lips as they’d mouthed the beautiful words. It hadn’t mattered to him that David had a girlfriend. What had shocked Mark to the core was his
44
hadn’t mattered to him that David had a girlfriend. What had shocked Mark to the core was his
reaction to his fellow student. Mark got hard.
“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 I’d noticed David, it seemed that everywhere I looked around school, there were
all these cute guys that I’d never noticed before. It was as if I’d been wearing blinkers my
whole life, and suddenly, they were taken off.”
“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 was nodding 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 blow-job. 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,