Thorne kept smiling though he wanted to strangle her. “When I want something, I can be very persuasive.”
He was relieved when she left it there and the conversation turned to upcoming roles Orlando had said he could mention before the attention reverted to Amanda. Thorne wondered if his bisexuality would be brought up again. He’d be honest if he was asked but he hoped he wasn’t.
“Now,” said Kim turning to face him.
Thorne’s stomach lurched. Was this what Orlando suspected would happen?
“I hear you recently had a joke played on you.” She smiled.
Thorne didn’t react. Shit, yes it was.
“We have some photos to show the viewers.” Kim looked at the screen behind her.
Thorne knew what he was going to see. Shot after shot of him looking wet and stupid, though never irritated which was a miracle.
“What happened?” she asked.
“I was offered a lot of money to advertise a watch. Someone thought it would be amusing to make me do ridiculous things. But since I’d planned to give the money for the day’s work to a children’s charity, I played along until the end of the day. They never paid me but I still donated to the charity. And hey, I got to keep the watch.” He took it from his pocket and tossed it to Andy. “Maybe a member of the audience would like it.”
There was an instant sea of hands and after Andy had given it to a guy on the front row, the show was over.
Thorne turned down an offer to go to a party and took a cab to Canary Wharf. On the way there he had a call from Orlando.
“You did well,” Orlando said. “I wish you could have denied the bisexuality but the joke was good and I liked the way you handled the watch incident.”
“Pointless denying it when the press have linked me to both sexes.”
“So who’s your latest interest?”
Thorne made a crackling noise. “Losing…” Then he switched off his phone.
When he walked into the chess café he saw a group gathered together around a table where his brother and Linton sat opposite each other. Thorne moved closer and watched. Linton made a move and tapped a clock. Speed chess. He didn’t think the game would last much longer because Linton had lost his queen but a couple of moves later, River made an uncharacteristic error with a knight and shortly after that Linton won. Thorne was astounded. By the look of it, so was River, but he shook Linton’s hand and as he stepped away, the other members of the club moved forward to clap Linton on the back.
“What happened?” Thorne asked his brother.
River gave him a rare smile. “He tricked me. He can play well and pretended he couldn’t by making early errors. I hadn’t anticipated he might sacrifice his Queen. Not a risk I’ve ever taken.” He turned to look at Linton emerging from the scrum. “He says his brother is the more skilful player, but he’s away for three months.”
Linton reached their side and smiled at Thorne.
Christ, how can a smile turn me on so fast?
“Will you play with me again?” River asked.
“Sure. But you’re not going to fall for my tricks next time. You’ll thrash me.”
Thorne fixed his gaze on Linton. “How about playing with me? I don’t mind a few dirty tricks.”
“My brother’s not very good,” River said.
“I’m fucking brilliant.” Thorne didn’t take his eyes off Linton’s face.
“No you’re not,” River said.
Thorne could see Linton trying not to grin.
“Okay, I’m not.” Thorne still stared at Linton. “Want to go and get something to eat? We can play later.”
“Sure,” Linton said.
“Great.” Thorne was surprised how pleased he felt.
“I’d like a pizza,” River said.
Thorne was pretty sure his jaw hit the floor. River never wanted to go out to eat. Thorne wished he’d chosen any other time but this to want to go, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask him to return home alone.
“There’s a pizza place around the corner,” Linton said to River.
If his brother had been into guys, Thorne would have been jealous. Fuck it. He was still jealous. Linton cast Thorne a quick glance, and for a brief moment, he had the feeling Linton was playing with him, that this was all some elaborate charade. But why? He shook the sensation off. He was just being paranoid.
They left the café and Linton walked on the other side of River.
“I thought we were heading for a stalemate,” River said to Linton.
“So did I. I was lucky. I won’t be again. You’re a really good player. Dirk would be more of a challenge for you.”
“Where’s he gone?”
“Rehab in North Yorkshire.”
“What is he addicted to?”
“Drugs, alcohol, cigarettes, sex, and irritating me.”
“I’ve never smoked,” River said.
Thorne swallowed his laugh at his brother’s response. He listened as the pair talked, marvelling that River was keeping up his end of a conversation.
“If I found alcohol or drugs offered an enjoyable escape,” River said, “it would be hard not to use them again.”
“And again and again,” Thorne muttered.
Linton sighed. “Dirk’s not autistic. He doesn’t have that excuse.”
“What is his excuse?” River asked.
“You’d have to ask him yourself. He’s a mixed up guy. Have you ever taken drugs?”
“Only prescribed medication,” River said. “There’s a higher risk of addiction to a substance if someone is autistic.”
Linton nodded. “So it’s better not to take something or involve yourself in activities that you risk turning into an obsession.”
“Yes.”
“But wouldn’t it be the case that the rigid control exercised by those on the autistic spectrum would stop them becoming addicted?” Linton asked. “If you told yourself not to do something, couldn’t you follow the rule you made?”
River sucked in a breath. “In theory, but that experiment would have too high an element of risk.”
“So you stick to safe subjects to involve yourself with,” Linton said.
“Yes. Focusing my attention on them is a way to shut out a noisy, often overwhelming world.”
“What’s your current interest?”
“Clouds.”
“I love clouds. They’re fascinating. I’d love to see a cirrus Kelvin-Helmholtz formation. They look like a line of waves.”
Thorne didn’t think he’d heard River talk so much to someone he’d only just met.
The conversation changed to one about complex chess moves that Thorne had trouble following. He was still riveted by the novelty of his brother chatting. It made him want Linton even more, but he wished River would go home.
Thorne was recognised the moment they walked into the restaurant. The young couple in line in front of them nudged each other and he heard the woman whisper his name to the guy.
She turned to him. “Hi. Would you autograph my arm, please?”
Thorne gritted his teeth. “Oh, piss off.”
The woman looked mortified and the guy glared at Thorne. “Tosser,” he hissed.
“Thank you so much for pointing that out,” Thorne said, his mask of indifference firmly in place.
After the couple were led to a table, Thorne sighed. “If I sign my name once, a line will form. I’m starting to get harassed every time I go out.”
“Maybe you should have thought of that before you went into acting.” Linton’s expression was decidedly cool.
Thorne bristled. “You think it’s fucking easy being famous? My life’s not my own anymore. How am I supposed to know who I can trust? Who my real friends are? For all I know you’re going to go straight to the gossip magazines and sell my secrets.”
“I don’t know any of your secrets.”
“Then you’ll make them up,” Thorne snapped.
Linton pressed his lips together. River started
to hum quietly. Shit.
They were shown them to their table by a nervous looking young woman.
“Thank you.” Linton gave her the smile Thorne coveted.
How to fuck things up before I’ve even begun. But what Thorne had said was true. He’d trusted too much and been burned too often.
After the waiter had taken their order, Linton excused himself to go to the bathroom. Thorne wondered if he’d come back. He wished he’d just signed the bloody woman’s arm. He’d sign her arse if it put Linton in a better mood.
River stopped humming. “Do you like him?”
“I think I do.” Yeah, I do.
“I like him better than Owen.”
Thorne widened his eyes. “Why do you say that?”
“Owen was too excitable. He made me anxious. I worried he’d break into pieces.”
And he had.
“What happened?” River asked. “Why did you split up?”
River had to pick now to ask him? “We just did.”
“Why?”
“Shit, River. Let it drop. Could we not talk about Owen?”
“Why not?”
“Because he’s not part of my life anymore.”
“Do you want Linton to be part of your life?”
“Maybe.” Yes.
“Why?”
Oh God. Now Thorne really wished River wasn’t in a chatty mood. Linton was heading back to their table, all long legs and fluid grace, his hands in his pockets, his hair flopping in his eyes, and a surge of lust churned Thorne’s stomach and curled his toes. Linton sat down and pulled his chair in.
“I wondered if you’d leave,” Thorne said.
“No windows in the bathroom.”
Thorne wasn’t sure if he was joking.
“You get the text about the party?” Thorne was immediately annoyed with himself for asking. “Or are you washing your hair that night?”
“Why would that stop him coming?” River asked.
Linton smiled—at River. “It wouldn’t. It’s a clichéd excuse that’s sometimes used instead of saying—no, I’m not interested. Like telling a teacher you haven’t handed in your homework because a dog ate it.”
“What if a dog did eat it?” River asked.
“That’s bad luck because you’d probably not be believed.”
“Why not?”
“It’s an expression that’s become synonymous with failing to hand in homework on time. Dogs sometimes chew mail that postmen put through the letter box so it’s not impossible that a dog would eat someone’s homework, though it’s unlikely. I once had my school bag thrown up a tree and I couldn’t get it down. It was the truth but I wasn’t believed and landed in detention.”
“Did you get your bag back?”
“I asked a groundskeeper to get it for me.”
Thorne was impressed with Linton’s patience.
River frowned. “So why did Thorne make the comment about hair washing and not you?”
“He was providing me with an excuse to say no but indicating he’d be annoyed if I did. He was trying to be funny.” Linton glanced at him.
“Trying?” Thorne put an aggrieved expression on his face.
“He’s always trying to be funny,” River said.
“Hey, I am sitting here.” Thorne spotted two members of staff heading toward them with pens and pieces of paper.
“Can we have your autograph?” the women said, though they weren’t looking at him but at Linton.
“Sure. I’d be delighted.” Linton beamed. “Thank you for asking.”
“You’re fantastically talented,” the man said.
“We love you so much,” the woman added.
When several other members of staff joined the line brandishing paper and pencils, Thorne got it and started to laugh. Linton signed his name a dozen times, including the napkins of several diners though when the pizzas arrived everyone drifted away.
“I don’t understand,” River said.
“Linton was teaching me a lesson.” Thorne pushed to his feet and went over to the woman who’d asked him to sign her arm.
“Sorry for earlier. I was rude. I shouldn’t have been. Would you still like to me to write on your arm?”
She nodded.
“What’s your name?”
“Annie.”
Thorne took the pen she offered and wrote To Annie, love Thorne Morrisey. “Your meal’s on me. Enjoy your evening.”
“Wow, thank you.”
Thorne slid back into his seat. “Happy now?” he asked Linton.
“Yes, now I know you’re trainable.”
Oh fuck, I really like you. Linton wasn’t afraid of him or in awe of him. He had no idea how exhilarating Thorne found that.
“Why did the people who work here want your autograph?” River asked Linton.
“They didn’t. I asked them to pretend. I wanted your brother to see that being polite costs nothing. Usually.”
“What about the people eating here? Why did they ask?”
“I suspect they followed like sheep with no idea who I was or they just wanted to get close to your brother without him biting their head off.”
“Sheep don’t just follow without a reason,” River said.
Linton nodded. “Yeah, I read that the way they behave is determined by an individual sheep’s need to escape danger.”
River’s eyes lit up. “I read that too. The sheep at the centre of the herd are safer from predators. Research shows that under threat, individual sheep are constantly trying to reach the middle of the flock while the flock itself flees the danger. It can be shown in a simple mathematical formula, the herd constantly folding in on itself.”
As entranced as Thorne was with listening to his brother hold his own in a conversation, even if it was one about sheep, he might have been jealous if not for the way Linton was pressing his knee up against Thorne’s leg. Please don’t stop.
When they’d finished eating, there was a brief tussle over the bill and Thorne won. No way was he going to let Linton pay. Once they were outside, Thorne called the cab company he used. After a quiet hint to his brother, River wandered a little way off to look at the water.
Thorne turned to Linton. “You want to come back with us?”
“I need to wash my hair.”
Thorne sighed. “You’re such a shit.”
“Because I didn’t fall straight into bed with you?”
“Who says we need a bed?”
“I’m not into casual sex. Done it. Over it.”
Thorne whined. “I missed out on that phase then? Damn.”
“Is that what you want? A quick fuck?”
“I’d prefer a long one.” Thorne reached to stroke Linton’s fingers. He held his hand for a moment before the sound of an approaching group of rowdy drunks made him let go. He checked to see where River was standing—nowhere near possible trouble—and sighed.
Linton grabbed his hand and pulled him in close. “Coward.” He wrapped his arms around Thorne and kissed him.
Thorne forgot what a bad idea doing this was when pissed guys might decide to pick a fight with a couple of fags, and let himself fall into lust. Their tongues fought, caressed, plunged and stroked as if they were competing in some competition for stamina, inventiveness and artistic ability. Adrenaline surged and peaked.
When Linton pulled back, Thorne drew a ragged breath. “Christ.”
Linton looked as shell-shocked as him.
“So can I come back to your place?” Thorne asked.
“Yes.”
Thorne almost swallowed his tongue in shock. “Yes?”
Linton nodded.
River came up at their side. “I want to leave now.”
“You’ll be all right going back on your own.” Even as he said that Thorne had a sinking feeling in his stomach.
River began to repeatedly clench his fists and rock, a sign that he was unhappy and growing increasingly distressed. Shit. What had set him off?
“The
cab will take you right to the door.” Thorne tried to reassure him. “I’ll pay him in advance. You just have to get in and get out of the vehicle.”
Now River was rocking faster, his lips pressed tight together, and Thorne’s shoulders dropped. He turned to Linton. “I have to take him home.”
“Okay.” Linton shrugged.
“Fuck you,” Thorne said quietly through gritted teeth. “You could at least sound disappointed.”
“Why? I’m pleased.”
“What the fuck? You arsehole. Is this what you do? String guys along? What was going to happen when I got to your flat? Nothing? Or were you going to let me fuck you and then shout rape? I’ve had a lucky fucking escape, haven’t I?” Thorne could feel his mouth running away with him but for once was helpless to stop it. “I thought you were—shit, doesn’t matter what I thought. You’re like all the rest. You’re just playing the longer game. Well you lost. You can’t have me.”
“You selfish, jumped up wanker.” Linton’s eyes blazed with fury. “What right do you have to talk to me that way? Just because you got lucky and your face fits you think you’re God’s gift to men and women alike? Remember that fame is fickle. You can lose everything you have in a heartbeat. There’s nothing special about you. You’re not unique. You can be replaced. Never forget that.”
Thorne was mesmerised. All his antagonism had melted away. No one ever spoke to him like that. Except maybe Orlando.
“I said I was pleased because you made the right bloody choice.” Linton spat out the words. “Your brother needs you. You put him first. I admired that so much, and then you wrecked it, you dickhead.”
Linton’s glare warmed Thorne’s heart more than most men’s smiles. “I need to fuck you right this minute. My cock is so hard it hurts.”
Linton huffed out a strangled laugh.
“Do I make you hard?” Thorne whispered.
“Yes. But so does watching Cocky Boys.”
“You’re a fucking wanker but for some reason you excite the fuck out of me.”
“That would make me just a wanker then.”
Thorne smiled.
“It’s one of my hobbies,” Linton said. “Wanking. I’m very dedicated. I practice a lot. Be a good guy. Take your brother home.”
Dirty Games Page 16