Read Playing for Keeps (Glasgow Lads Book 2) for Free Online

Should they be banned as well?”
    “Obviously not.” Fergus rubbed his neck and looked away, regretting he’d started a debate with an aspiring philosopher-politician.
    “Funny thing is, the event the Orange Walks celebrate—William’s defeat of King James—was partially financed by the Pope.”
    “I didn’t know that.” In school, Fergus had enjoyed studying history until he’d discovered that every “fact” was open to interpretation.
    “Aye, at the time it was less about religion and more about stopping James’s French allies.” John shrugged. “One of those ‘enemy of my enemy is my friend’ situations.”
    “Then why do the Orangemen commemorate that battle with their stupid marches?”
    “It’s a symbol. Like most bigots, they feel hard done-by, that some minority—in this case, Catholics—has got unfairly good treatment at their expense.”
    Fergus bristled. “Unfair how?”
    “Well, here in Scotland, our taxes fund Catholic schools.”
    “Those schools accept students from all religions.”
    “Yes, sort of. But they can and do discriminate in who they hire, based on religion.” John’s lips twitched. “One could argue that’s not terribly enlightened.”
    Fergus looked away again. It was easier to defend his faith against hate than against reason.
    “I will say one thing about the Orange Walks.” John leaned in and spoke in a loud mock-whisper. “I doubt they’d exist if the Battle of the Boyne had happened in January instead of July.”
    Fergus smirked. “Aye, not too many men would fancy a march down an icy street.”
    John shifted closer still, planting his hand on the cushion beside Fergus. “Imagine the band members, their saliva freezing up inside their flutes, leaving behind a trail of wee spit-sicles.”
    “And sending the drummers falling arse over tit. Drumsticks and three-pointed hats everywhere.”
    “Right? Pure chaos.”
    John’s laughter brushed Fergus’s ear, sending a jolt of desire down his spine. Fergus knew if he shifted his left leg just a few inches he’d feel John’s fingers under his thigh. The thought made his cock thicken and throb. He glanced about the crowded bar, taking a mental snapshot, from which he promptly deleted the other patrons, along with his and John’s clothes. This snug would be the perfect height for—
    “Here she comes.” John sat up straight at the waitress’s approach.
    Their decision on dessert was a unanimous “No.” As the server gathered their plates, Fergus said to John, “I just realized we’ve not discussed any details of the charity match. That was the whole point of this dinner.”
    “Was it?” He glanced up from his wallet. “I thought it was an excuse.”
    So Fergus wasn’t imagining things. This was a date, one he longed to continue. He still didn’t entirely trust John (or anyone, at this point), but he wanted him. Desire for anything but oblivion had become such a foreign, forgotten feeling, Fergus knew he had to seize it while he could.
    As soon as the waitress was gone, Fergus pressed his knee against John’s beneath the table. “We could discuss the match at my place.”
    John’s long, dark lashes flickered. “Sorry, not interested.”
    Fergus jerked his knee away, banging it on the table leg. “Ow!” His face flamed with embarrassment. “I’m sorry, I thought you—I thought we—”
    “What I mean is this.” John reached into Fergus’s lap and took his hand. “Talking business is the last thing I’ll want to do at your place.”

C HAPTER F OUR

    “Y OU LIVE IN City Bakeries?” John’s neck ached as he gaped up at the stone-and-red-brick facade of the former factory. It towered over its neighbors by several stories. “This is a piece of Glasgow history.”
    “Aye, one of the few original buildings left here in Woodside.” Fergus gave an affectionate pat to one of the columns flanking the entrance. “I’ve been coveting a flat here since second year. I’ve even a parking