“I do.” Nicki’s eyes travel over to Mark who still has his hand on Andrew’s shoulder. “Who the fuck are you?”
“Mark,” he answers. “I’m a friend of Andrew’s.”
For reasons unknown, Mark tightens his grip on Andrew’s shoulder, making unease curl itself around Andrew’s chest. Involuntarily, he takes a step away from Mark and toward Nicki who bats Mark’s hand away without a second thought. It’s rude and also a relief since Andrew didn’t feel capable of doing it.
Once Mark’s hand is gone, Nicki settles his own at the back of Andrew’s neck in a touch that is both unexpectedly welcome and embarrassingly possessive.
“What are you doing,” Andrew hisses.
“Visiting myboyfriend,” Nicki replies, a smug as shit smile spreading across his face when Mark makes a choking sound.
“You two are dating?” Mark gapes. “I thought?—”
“Thought what?” Nicki asks, curling his long fingers around Andrew’s neck then giving it a firm squeeze. It’s oddly comforting, and Andrew leans back into it, embarrassed and confused, and for reasons he can’t understand, kind of pleased, too. It’s all for show, but there’s something nice about feeling so wanted for once.
“Uh,” Mark starts, no other words leaving his mouth as he stares.
“You can leave now,” Nicki tells him.
“Nicki, don’t be rude,” Andrew chastises.
“It’s fine,” Mark shrugs. “I’ve got to finish up that report anyway. I’ll uh…talk to you later.”
Mark walks off, glancing behind him a few times. Everyone in the office is still staring, still taking photos, and panic tries to well up in Andrew.
“What happened to keeping it quiet?” Andrew says, brain running a mile a minute. “I didn’t plan for this. I?—”
“Breathe, princess.” He gives Andrew’s neck a squeeze again, causing some of the tension to bleed out of Andrew.
Logically, he knew people finding out was a possibility at some point, even if they were keeping things quiet. Still, he didn’t expectthis. Thankfully, none of his coworkers talk to Charlie, which means he’s got some time to figure out how he wants to handle explaining this later.
“Why exactly are you here?” Andrew questions, hyper aware of his coworkers staring.
“We should talk in private.”
“I’m at work.”
“I’m more important than work,” Nicki declares with the full authority of someone who actually believes it.
“I recognize this might be hard for you to believe, but some of us don’t want to lose our jobs.”
“You’re not going to lose your job for talking to me,” Nicki scoffs.
“Maybe I wouldn’t,” Andrew concedes. “But I might get in trouble.”
He doesn’t add on that the prospect of getting in trouble makes Andrew physically ill. He knows he’s kind of intenseabout rule following; Charlie and Jason have always given him shit for it. He doesn’t need Nicki to make fun of him, too.
“Who would get you in trouble?” Nicki asks.
“My boss,” Andrew answers, “who is coming this way. Shit. You have to go. Right now.”
“Absolutely not,” Nicki replies, turning to face Andrew’s boss who is walking directly towards them.
Panic floods Andrew’s veins even as he smiles, brain going in a million directions trying to figure out how he’s going to explain all of this. If he’d known Nicki was coming by, he could’ve scripted this conversation, but instead he’s left blindsided and floundering.
“Nicholas Whitmore,” his boss, Mr. Sterling, says. “What on Earth are you doing here? You get lost on the way to your game?”
Suddenly Andrew imagines Nicki being, well—Nicki—and telling his boss to fuck off. He’ll probably get Andrew fired.
