Free My Prince by Anna Martin Page A

I’m not some Tory snob who looks down on people because of where they grew up. People make judgments about me just as quickly as they make judgments about you, George.”
    “Yeah, but when they look at you, they expect some rich prick who thinks he’s better than everyone else. When people look at me, they see one of the few people in society it’s acceptable to look down on.
    “We’re not benefits scabs,” he said suddenly. “We’re not. My mum gets child tax credits, but anyone can get those. We work. Maguires work. That’s what my dad always taught us.”
    “My mum is an elitist former debutante who’s never worked a day in her life,” Alex said with a wry smile.
    Slowly he rolled on top of George, his legs straddling George’s thighs, and rested his chin on his hands. To his delight, George wrapped his arms around Alex’s waist, holding him loosely.
    “She visits me maybe twice a year,” he continued. “My dad comes over a bit more often.”
    “How often do you go back?”
    “It depends. If there’s stuff going on, then I have to go. There’s never even any discussion, I just get sent a date and get told to book a flight. These days I can get an easyJet flight from Edinburgh to Amsterdam.”
    “You fly easyJet?” George asked incredulously.
    “Yeah,” Alex laughed. “It’s the quickest way of getting there. What?” He poked George in the chest. “Do you think I’ve got a private jet or something?”
    “Don’t you?”
    “No! I’m pretty much the black sheep of my family, George. I don’t live at home. I now have a British passport, though people aren’t really supposed to know about that. I love my family and my country, but I never wanted that life and the lifestyle that was mapped out for me when I was born. That’s not me.”
    “How much of that has to do with being gay?”
    Alex pulled a face. “Maybe… thirty percent,” he said with a laugh. “I don’t think it’s a particularly big deal. You know the Netherlands was the first country in the world to legalize same-sex marriage? Nearly fifteen years ago now. I’m just very aware of how ‘frowned upon’ my sexual ‘choices’ are within the context of my family.”
    “Sounds to me like it’s a fairly big deal,” George said.
    Alex sighed. “It’s fine. I had a fairly serious boyfriend for two years, when I was finishing college and starting university. A lot of people thought he was going to be the one I ended up with.”
    “But you didn’t.”
    “No. He turned out to be a total dickhead.”
    “Where did he grow up?”
    “George,” Alex sighed.
    “Go on.”
    “Yeah, all right he’s aristocracy. And yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s why so many people thought we were a good fit, or whatever. You know when you peel off all the layers of someone, though? When you get right down to the core of them? The core of him wasn’t nice. He wasn’t the sort of person I wanted to be with, short term or longer. I wasted nearly two years on him, George,” Alex said, tracing patterns on George’s chest with his fingertips. “I spent two years of my life telling myself that he was the right sort of man and we would be good together. When I look back on that now, I’ve never been so happy to be wrong.”
    George pushed his fingers through Alex’s hair, the gesture strangely tender, almost at odds with his gruff exterior. Alex couldn’t help but push up into the touch. He adored being pampered like this.
    “So,” George said, rubbing his blunt fingers over Alex’s scalp. “What now?”
    “Breakfast?” Alex suggested.
    George laughed. “I was thinking just a bit further ahead than that.”
    “We can walk back and pick up the car….”
    “I have a rugby match later.”
    “You play rugby?” Alex fanned himself dramatically. “Lord….”
    “Fuck off,” George said and pushed his hand away. “Yeah. Leith seconds.”
    “Are you any good? Are you the hooker?”
    “No, I’m not the fucking hooker.” Alex