The only thing keeping his sick spiral at bay is his concern for Nicki.
“Haven’t you ever seen someone sick? You went to boarding school.”
“I had private rooms.”
“Your parents?”
Nicki’s laugh is hollow. “I barely saw them when they were healthy. I did not see them sick. I don’t think I’ve ever seen my father out of a suit or my mom out of a full face of makeup.”
“Your friends on the team?”
“I’ve never had friends on my teams, princess. I’m not a likable guy.”
It’s not a surprise. The little bit he’s gathered from Nicki about his family indicates they’ve never wanted for anything monetarily but emotionally, oh, how Nicki was starved. It’s nowonder he isn’t good at people or feelings, but Andrew’s seen enough to know that while he might be an introverted asshole in personality, he’s a good man who deserves to be loved. Who deserves to know he’s worthy of love, not because he’s rich or famous or talented, but because he’s simply Nicki.
“For what it’s worth, I like you.”
“Fuck knows why.” Nicki tightens his hold on Andrew. “It’s fine, but?—”
“Tony is your friend,” Andrew adds, because he knows it’s true, even if Nicki doesn’t seem to know it yet. He’d sensed it at the team dinner, even with how much Nicki tried to keep him at bay.
“Fucking loose screw that one.”
“I like Tony, he kind of reminds me of Jason.”
“Great,“ Nicki sighs dramatically. “Now I have two of them in my life.”
The casual mention of Jason being in Nicki’s life does something to his sick, sleep-addled brain. Has him offering something he didn’t think he would.
“I’ll call my brother and ask him to come watch the game with me. So you can play without worrying.”
“Which brother? Please don’t say Charlie.”
“Charlie.”
“Fuck,” Nicki groans, lowering his face to Andrew’s hair and breathing him in. Even with the shower Nicki gave him, Andrew is so sweaty he must smell sour, but Nicki just lets out a contented sigh, so he lets it go.
“You’ll have to make peace with Charlie and Eden one day. They’re kind of a package deal with me.”
“I know and I will. For you. But I don’t fucking like people.”
“You like me though.”
“So fucking much, princess.” Nicki hefts him up until Andrew is seated fully in his lap, their faces so close they could finallyhave their first kiss if Andrew wasn’t disgustingly full of germs. “Make him call me. If you need me.Please.”
“You’ll be on the ice, you can’t check your phone,” Andrew points out, oddly touched by theplease. He’s not sure he’s ever heard Nicki use that word before and certainly not in a way that sounded so close to begging.
“Fuck.”
“I’m fine,” Andrew tells him, the lie slipping out so easily.
“Fuck your ‘fine’,” Nicki says, the harshness in his tone contrasted so sharply by the tender glide of his fingers through Andrew’s hair.
Really, there’s nothing he can say to that. Andrew’s fine is rarely that, but no one challenges it. He suspects Charlie knows it’s a lie, but his brother doesn’t call him on it. Eden seems to suspect too, if the looks he gives Andrew sometimes are to be believed, but neither does he push.
Andrew was sure he liked being left to hide, but now he’s not so sure. There’s a relief at someone finally calling him on his bullshit, on not having to pretend.
“When do you need to leave?” Andrew asks, closing his eyes. He counts the beats of Nicki’s heart. One two three. One two three.
