“Are you a lawyer?” Nicholas interrupts.
“Andrew is a financial advisor, for your team,” Amanda offers, looking smug as shit.
“Why haven’t I seen you around?” Nicholas questions.
“Well, they don’t really let us boring types out of our office.”
Nicholas blinks, unsure what to make of this perfectly pressed man who is as bland as they come in appearance, yet anything but boring in personality.
“So you’re an accountant?”
“Financial advisor,” Andrew corrects.
“What’s the difference?”
“I’ll tell you over dinner next week.”
“I don’t have time for dinner next week. We have a three-game home stand. That means we’re playing three games in a row at home and?—”
“I might not be the world’s biggest hockey fan, but I have picked up enough working for the league to know what that is. I also know that even when you play, you have to eat after.”
“I’m tired after,” Nicholas says, but it’s a weak protest even to him.
“Surely you have time to ingest a meal. Unless you’re planning to exist solely on the blood of your enemies on the ice and sexual gratification.”
“I eat,” Nicholas grumbles, unsure if he’s annoyed at being insulted or amused at how imaginative the insult was, especially for being pretty damn close to the truth.
“Good then once I’ve drawn up the contract we’ll have dinner. If, and only if, you agree to the terms then we can move forward.”
“I didn’t know dating could be this boring.”
“Fake dating,” Andrew corrects.
“Fake dating,” Nicholas copies. “You’re still taking all the fun out of it.”
“That’s me, no fun Andrew King,” he deadpans in a way that makes Nicholas unsure if he’s being sarcastic or serious. “So?”
“What?”
“Are you in, or do you want to think it over?”
There’s nothing for Nicholas to think over. Amanda is his sole friend—pretty pathetic since she’s also his agent and cousin—but at this point Nicholas has either shunned or burned all his other bridges. Andrew is his only choice unless he wants to enlist a stranger to help him, and even with an NDA the potential blowback is more than he is willing to risk. It’s Andrew or nothing, and Nicholas is not backing down.
Lifting his gaze to look at Andrew, he’s surprised to find the other man already staring, their gazes locked. There’s something about this man with his perfect hair and unassuming outfit that has Nicholas curious. It’s that curiosity, and more than a fair bit of desperation, that has him answering.
“I’m in.”
4ANDREW
Not the typeI’d fuck or date.
With a sigh, Andrew steps beneath the spray of the shower, letting it pound down on top of his head.
It’s fine, not like he’s going to relive hearing that sentence for the foreseeable future. He can just add it to the mental list of things people have said to him over the last decade or so that live in his subconscious, making their permanent residency in his brain known at the most inconvenient of times.
How do you even date if you’re ace?
It’s not fair to me to have needs you won’t fulfill.
