This week we’re getting teasers from the With A Kick series from Clare London and Sue Brown.
A TWIST AND TWO BALLS
“Is that what you think of my acting career?” Eddy frowned. “That it’s just a dream, and I’m better off with an honest job, as you call it?”
Nuri’s brow furrowed. “Don’t be a stupid ar—” He bit back the words.
“No, go on. Say it!” Eddy almost squeaked. “I’m a stupid arse?”
Nuri sighed, letting his breath out slowly. “Eduardo. Sometimes you seem deliberately to misunderstand me. You’re seeking an argument, though I don’t really know why. And I’m afraid I have to say—this is not about you.”
Eddy felt his jaw drop, just like a kid’s cartoon character.
Nuri flushed, very darkly. “And now it’s my turn to offend you. I try to find the right words—”
“No!” Eddy interrupted. What the hell was he doing, shrieking at this wonderful, honest, hardworking, loyal man? To say nothing of handsome, kind, endlessly patient, sexy, with a hairy, ticklish spot on his thigh, warm lips tightening on Eddy’s nipple, large palm cradling Eddy’s balls… Eddy shook his mind back to the present. “Nuri, you find exactly the right words. I’m the stupid arse here, you’re correct. It’s not about me. But I always do that, though, don’t I? I hijack everything to my point of view. I promise not to in the future. Honestly. I’ll stop being a diva and be…well, a proper boyfriend. If you want me. I mean, if you want me to be…that boyfriend. You know. I mean, any boyfriend, really.” Please! he thought fervently.
Nuri’s smile was slow and grateful and relieved. “You asked me if I had made up my mind about you. Do you remember?”
“Yes. I remember that was another occasion when I was being a stupid arse.”
Nuri smiled even more broadly. “You make me laugh, Eduardo. In so many, and such interesting ways. Yes, I want you to be that boyfriend. If that boyfriend is mine. I made my mind up about that a long time ago.”
Eddy knew he was flushed now, as well. He glanced around the lobby. The building was emptying of employees at an increasing rate. His boss Mr H liked to close up promptly on a Friday. The workers came out of the lift and parted like the Red Sea around Nuri and Eddy, standing like biblical brothers at the reception desk.
“Let’s go and get dinner,” Nuri said.
Eddy laughed. “That’s your answer to everything.”
“No. I have no answer to everything. I just…”
“Try. Yes, I know. And you succeed.” This time, Eddy took Nuri’s hand, and squeezed it. Sometimes an action was far better than a hundred pages of script. He was learning that acting tip rather late in life, but for all the right reasons. “Do they do takeaway?”
“You’re not hungry?”
“No. I am very hungry. Just not for a restaurant meal.” And Eddy waggled his eyebrows in what he hoped was a ridiculous gesture.
Nuri started laughing and his eyes gleamed. He leaned in closer and his lips brushed Eddy’s.
In the background, there was a clatter at reception, as if something had been dropped on the floor. They both turned to see Mandi on her hands and knees on the floor, scrabbling through the spilled contents of her handbag. “That’s, like, so sweet,” she said, staring up at them with puppy-dog eyes. “Do it again, okay? I need to take a picture on my phone.”