Chapter Sixteen
Taine
Freddie had tasted of sugar, coffee, and a hint of mint. Taine couldn’t shake the flavour. He wanted another kiss.
The hour in London, the time in Lille, none of it really registered to him. Taine could only think about stripping Freddie down to nothing. He started to hunger for it—something he hadn’t felt in his core for a while.
While Freddie might not have a rugby-sized body, the young nurse looked fit. Very fit. He reminded Taine of some of the slight fishermen in Scotland. They might be slender, but their muscles were hard as iron.
My first crush.
He could still remember with a visceral cringe trudging into confession with tears in his eyes. Father Wilson hadn’t condemned him to hell. The priest had rather controversially told him God had more important sins to worry about than a young man’s wandering eye.
In his youth, Taine hadn’t quite understood how progressive his adoptive father actually was at the time. As an adult, he had massive amounts of respect for the man who refused to be cowed by his cowl. Father Wilson could’ve easily condemned him at a young age, sent him off to an institution. It had happened to other children and teenagers.
The fate of one of his close friends in school still haunted him even now. Taine had dedicated much of his charitable work outside of the hospital to the rights and protections for other LGBT youth. He fully believed someone had to offer them help when their families abandoned them.
“You’ve gone all serious.” Freddie looked at him over the top of what appeared to be a well-read copy of The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe. The cover had started to warp at the corners, and the colours had faded. “Something wrong?”
Taine shook his head to answer and clear his mind. “Thinking about an old friend.”
“A first crush?”
“Not quite.” Taine nudged Freddie with his elbow. “How long until we reach Amsterdam?”
“Thirty minutes? Depends on if there are any delays.” He lifted the novel to begin reading again. “I have other novels if you want to borrow one.”
“Now you offer?” Taine tilted his head to the side with a wry grin. “How far into our journey are we, and you’re just offering to share your entertainment?”
“I couldn’t decide if you were worthy of handing over one of my treasures.” Freddie chuckled, though it was hidden by the aged pages. “Still not 100 percent convinced.”
“Treasures?” He tapped his finger against the flaking edges of what had been a beautiful cover of the C.S. Lewis paperback. “Not sure this qualifies.”
“It’s given me hours upon hours of joy. The words within have carried me to faraway magical places that only exist in the written word.” Freddie closed the book and held it loosely in his hands. “I could travel across the universe for a few quid at a used bookstore. Seems like quite the treasure to me.”
“I stand corrected.” Taine had never been much of a reader. He’d always preferred either being outdoors or watching the telly. “Never heard anyone speak so eloquently on the topic of reading—particularly when waving around a copy of a children’s book.”
“Have you read it?”
“Saw the movie.”
“You saw the film?” Freddie scoffed at him. He pulled the ticket stub out of his novel and flipped to the first page. “Well, pull your mind out of the clouds, I’ll read it to you.”
“On the train?” Taine glanced around at the other passengers. “Not sure we should have story time now.”
“What better time?” His deep brown eyes followed Taine’s lighter ones to take a peek at everyone. “Maybe it’ll teach them something as well.”
“We’ve only got thirty minutes.” Taine didn’t mind as such if Freddie wanted to read to him. He was far more entertained by the way those eyes brightened in irate fury. “Maybe you can tuck me in tonight with a story?”
Tuck me in with something.
Freddie whacked him on the arm with his book. “Honestly.”
“Is that a yes or a no?”
“You’ll have to be a good boy and listen to the story to find out.” He gave Taine a boyish grin. “Can you be a good boy?”
“Not sure I fit into that category.” Taine let his eyes drift lingeringly and longingly down Freddie’s body. “You, on the other hand, definitely could.”
He swatted Taine on the arm for the second time. “What would your Father Wilson say about it?”
“Confession is good for the soul.” He actually thought the priest would like Freddie and likely call the nurse one of God’s kind hearts. “Why The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe?”
Freddie’s gaze dropped to the book in his hands before turning it towards Taine to stare intensely at him. “You should always start an adventure at the beginning. You never know what you’ll miss by trying to race ahead to the climax.”
“One should never rush a climax.” Taine blocked the third whack to his arm. “Well? Let’s start with the foreplay—I mean reading.”
“You’ll have people yelling at us for being degenerates again.” Freddie sounded more amused than concerned. “I’ve never been scolded on a train by a stranger.”
They didn’t manage much beyond the first chapter before the train pulled into the station in Amsterdam. A couple of children who had been sitting two rows behind them came up to listen to the tale. Their parents, thankfully, didn’t shout at them for corrupting the youth, so they considered it a win.
Then again, if he’d been travelling with two small children, any port in a storm would do for a distraction to keep them from nattering on about “are we there yet?”
The Alkmaar Cheese Market was an easy distance from the hostel Freddie had picked to stay in. Taine took one look at all the backpackers loitering in the lobby and made an easy, quick decision. He grabbed the nurse by the hand and led him out of the place.
Not a chance am I sleeping with those rowdy teenagers. I’m way beyond the age of crashing on bunk beds for the night while sharing a room with a group of high-off-their-noggins kids who are barely out of their teens by the looks of it. Not a bloody chance.
“Will you stop dragging me along like a wayward toddler?” Freddie stumbled a few times before finding his feet. He glared, looking more like an angry kitten than anything else, and Taine had to turn his head to hide his smirk. “Why are we leaving? I got on my mobile earlier to book an extra bed so we’d both have somewhere to sleep. I made reservations.”
“There’s not enough bleach in the entire city to entice me to sleep on those sheets.” Taine had never considered himself to be overly fussy, but the older he got, the more he appreciated comfort and convenience over cost-effectiveness. He’d gone beyond being able to sleep on lumpy mattresses. It was difficult not to see it as yet another glaring example of the differences in their ages. “I’ve a better idea.”
While Freddie peppered him with questions, Taine sent a text to Remi to see if Sarah knew anyone in Amsterdam. She didn’t. Thankfully, Scottie, of all people, did have a mate whose sister ran the Seven Bridges Hotel, an old canal house in one of the most beautiful districts in the older part of the city.
One taxi ride later saw them standing in front of the boutique hotel. It hopefully smelled less like a university flat full of stinky blokes than the hostel had. Taine had asked for either rooms that were connected or across the hall from one other.
I’ll have that bedtime story.
Or maybe, I’ll write one of my own.
After all, it occurred to him that not every story had to be written down on paper with ink. Theirs could easily be etched into their skin using the bed for a desk. They could provide the canvas and paints with their body.
Taine had his doubts, even on the cusp of seducing Freddie into his bed. Age differences made relationships—or even casual sex—complex. He disliked complications.
Life since rugby had been about removing complications from his life. His cock appeared to be guiding him right into the middle of one. Do I mind? Does it matter to me what others might say?
After all, me and Freddie? We might be a story to remember.