Read My Prince for Free Online Page B

Friday night?” George asked and Alex huffed in response.
    “Do you?”
    “I might.”
    “Fine. I respect the fact that you have an active and stimulating social life. Do you want me to pick you up?”
    George picked up his pace—it was cold out, and his hot lunch was going to be not hot by the time he got back to the office.
    “It depends. Where are we going?”
    “I’m not telling you.”
    Alex’s voice was warm, and George could hear the smile in it.
    “Well, if you want to take me to Glasgow, then yeah, pick me the fuck up. If we’re going down to the Old Town, then I can walk or get a bus.”
    “Okay, I’m picking you up. Leith Walk, right?”
    “Are you stalking me?”
    George jogged up the steps to his office and pressed his security pass against the barrier, waited for it to beep, then pushed through.
    “No, I’m not stalking you. When you got the taxi, after the benefit, remember? You said Leith Walk.”
    “Right.”
    “So, what number?”
    George paused, then rattled off the address.
    “Great. Can you be ready for eight?”
    “Yeah. No problem.”
    “Okay. I’ll see you later.”
    “Later,” George echoed and ended the call.
    Since the company was small, the owners decided to use a shared office space rather than owning one. It was barely worth it anyway for a dozen employees, so they had a corner of a floor in a huge building.
    It was Friday, so the office was much quieter than during the week. Half the people on this floor either didn’t work Fridays, worked from home, finished at lunchtime, or plain didn’t show up.
    George liked his space in this office. He had a desk in the corner, next to the window, and the setup meant no one could see what was on his computer screen unless they were standing next to him. He wasn’t quite bold enough to look at porn at work, like he knew some people did, but if he spent an hour or so browsing the Internet, no one noticed or cared.
    He carefully pried open the plastic box that held his jacket potato, which had some cheese, bacon, and mayonnaise sludge melting into it. It looked disgusting, sure, but the sandwich shop just down the road from the office did the best jacket potatoes in Edinburgh, he was sure of it.
    Since it was Friday, and no one was around to care, George brought up the BBC Sport website and kicked back, happy to skive off work for a little while longer.
     
     
    A LEX HOVERED over the Send button for a second, then pressed it.
    Outside. I think. Scared to knock in case I have the wrong house.
    He definitely had the right house, but he didn’t want to embarrass George by going up to the door. He got the impression he wouldn’t be invited in, which would be awkward, so he left the engine running and waited.
    A few seconds later, his phone buzzed.
    Coming.
    Alex made the dirty joke in his head and watched the door as George burst through it, laughing and making rude gestures to whoever was inside. He was dressed nicely, but still casual, like Alex had told him: dark jeans, a white T-shirt with a plaid lumberjack shirt open over the top, and a sporty jacket.
    “Hey,” he said as he opened the door and beamed at Alex.
    “Hey. Hop in.”
    He did and slammed the door closed. “Pretty sweet ride.”
    “Thank you.”
    “You know I have a Golf too? I know this is a new model. But yeah.”
    “Oh?” Alex pulled away from the house and shot George a smile. “What have you got?”
    “It’s a really old Mark Three.”
    “Ah, a classic. I love Golfs. Wouldn’t ever drive anything else.”
    “Same. My dad—did I tell you my dad owns a garage?”
    “No, but that’s cool.”
    “Yeah, him and my brother run it now. Maguire and Sons. Anyway. He bought it as pretty much a wreck, and we fixed it up.”
    “That’s awesome.”
    “Are you going to tell me where we’re going tonight?”
    Alex laughed. “You are….” He shook his head. “Completely terrible.”
    “I know.”
    “It’s not far from here.”
    “So we are going to the