Free Playing for Keeps (Glasgow Lads Book 2) by Avery Cockburn Page B

toast.” John set up his free kick, taking care not to put too much power behind it. “Yessiree Bob.”
    “That’s another thing. What’s with all the Yank talk?”
    “I usually play this game with my American friend Katie. We’re in the LGBT group at uni together. Guess she’s rubbed off on me.” His kick sailed left of the goal. “Dagnabbit.”
    Soon the whistle blew to signal halftime. As Fergus made tactical adjustments, he asked, “Does Katie play in real life?”
    “She’s a kickass fullback, All-State in South Carolina. Whatever that means.”
    Fergus let out a groan of admiration. “American women are amazing footballers. If Warriors could recruit her, I will love you forever.”
    A warmth spread up the sides of John’s neck. “Is that all it takes?”
    “For now.” Fergus kept his eyes on the screen but kept his knee pressed against John’s. “Though there are still a few inches of my body you’ve yet to apply your tongue to.”
    They started the second half in silent concentration, each side holding its own. Music played at a low volume from Fergus’s stereo, where the university radio station was doing its retro show. An old Ace of Base song came on, and John hummed along under his breath. As the bridge arrived, John and Fergus started singing at the same time, then laughed at their synchronized fandom.
    “I fucking love this band,” Fergus said.
    “Me too. Mum says ‘Beautiful Life’ was the first song I ever danced to, when I was three.”
    “They’re playing Retrofest next month at Loch Lomond.”
    “We should go!” John blurted, before realizing it was presumptuous to assume they’d still be together in a month.
    But Fergus agreed immediately. “I’ll buy an extra ticket. I was already planning to go with Liam and Robert and Robert’s girlfriend, Danielle.”
    Meeting the mates. That was huge. Especially when one of those mates worked at a Celtic pub. “I don’t want to intrude.”
    “They’ll love you. You and Liam have a similar sense of humor. The difference is, Liam and I riff off each other as long as we can without laughing. Totally straight-faced, you know?” Fergus sent John a quick smile. “With you I just laugh.”
    “You and Liam ever hook up?”
    “Good God, no. We’d never jeopardize our friendship. Ah, there we are.” Fergus leaned forward as his winger stripped the ball from John’s midfielder. “But more important, Liam and I don’t fancy gingers.”
    “Neither did I, until last night.”
    “I don’t believe you.”
    “Because you’re all so irresistible?”
    “People either fancy us or they don’t.” Fergus mashed the button to fire a shot that went wide of the goal. “Most don’t, but those who do—they really, really do. Like, to the point of fetish. It’s not as fun as it sounds.”
    Remembering the milk-white skin of Fergus’s chest, the pattern of tongue-traceable freckles on his shoulders, and the forest of fiery hair surrounding his endless, engorged red cock, John couldn’t deny he’d joined the Ginger Lad Fan Club. But he sensed that even if he were blind, he’d still crave Fergus.
    “I can relate,” John said. “I’m constantly fending off short-man-loving suitors. At least I think I am. Sometimes it’s hard to hear what they’re saying from all the way down here.”
    Fergus laughed. “You’re not that short.”
    “True. I’m taller than Lionel Messi, the world’s greatest footballer.”
    “Aye. I mean, ‘Aye, you’re taller than Messi,’ not ‘Aye, he’s the world’s’—oh, fuck’s sake. Again?” The whistle blew as the referee called another foul on Fergus’s team.
    “You better not rage-quit on me, bro.” John calibrated his free kick thirty yards from the goal, determined not to miss this time. “What’s the date of this music festival?”
    “First Saturday of July. I think it’s the fifth.”
    John’s hand spasmed, making his player kick the ball far over the net into the