“Who said anything about a movie?”
“Me, it’s my rest day. I always watch a movie when I have a day off.”
“Fine, shower, food and movie. Then phone and the real world.”
Nicki frowns but doesn’t argue. Andrew takes it as an agreement. Given that their feet are sandy and damp, exploring the house is postponed in favor of a shower.
Though it’s not technically a tour, Andrew's eyes track over everything as he takes in the house. Every room is designed in a way that affords a view of the sea, the furnishing luxurious and sleek but never taking away from the vast number of windows.
“We’re making a mess,” Andrew points out, the trail of sand behind them as they take the stairs to the second floor making him twitch. “I’ll clean it after.”
“I have house cleaners.”
“But—”
“No buts.”
“Fine,” Andrew sighs, still distracted by the clumps of sand that fall onto the pretty marble stairs.
Once they reach the top landing, Nicki’s hand reappears at Andrew’s lower back, guiding him left towards a set of double doors. He doesn’t bother asking if this is Nicki’s room because the answer is obvious once the doors are opened. He takes in the king sized bed in the center of the room with several hockey sticks stacked in the corner. There’s a beautiful piece of art above the bed in elegant contrast to the hockey gear piled haphazardly in the corner. What really draws Andrew’s attention is the wall of floor to ceiling windows opposite the bed with an unobstructed view of the sea.
It’s beautiful, calm, and not at all what he would’ve expected of Nicki before this morning.
“You look surprised.”
“The room is nice.”
“And that surprises you?” Nicki’s presence beside him is becoming familiar. So much so that Andrew forgets to mask.
“Yeah, thought maybe you lived in a sex dungeon.”
“The sex dungeon is in the basement.”
“You don’t have a basement,” Andrew points out.
“No, I don’t.” Nicki moves across the room, leading Andrew to the impressive en suite. “Why don’t you shower and I’ll find you something to wear.”
“Are you sure you don’t mind me using your bathroom?”
“If I minded, I wouldn’t have brought you here. I don’t do things I don’t want to do.”
“Course not,” Andrew mumbles. “Who would do that?”
“There are clean towels on the shelf. You can put them in the warmer there in the corner if you like. Use whatever toiletries are in the shower, and I’ll leave clothes for you on the bed.”
“Thanks,” Andrew says, looking anywhere but at Nicki. His thoughtfulness has rattled Andrew more than when he’s being an asshole. Asshole Nicki is easy to handle. He grew up with three brothers after all. This quieter version of Nicki who remembers that Andrew hates being dirty and offers him a warm towel and clean clothes has Andrew rattled.
Desperately trying to ignore his own spiraling thoughts, he puts the water on high, making sure it’s hot enough to allow him to forget his own existence before stepping beneath the spray.
11NICHOLAS
Hovering outside the bathroom door,Nicholas listens to the sound of running water while desperately trying not to think about Andrew being naked. At least when Andrew is dressed, he can focus on how much he hates those fucking khaki pants and polos he wears. Or hated. He’s not sure he hates them anymore, which pisses him the fuck off.
Everything right now is pissing him off. The paparazzi fucking with his life and making Andrew anxious pisses him off. The way he’d wanted to destroy every person who ever upset Andrew pisses him off. How much he wanted to pull Andrew close and keep the entire fucking world, even his brothers, away so everyone would stop making him frown pisses him off. Feeling things for his fake fucking boyfriend pisses him off.
Nicki isn’t supposed tolikeAndrew. Nor is he supposed to think about how much he wants from this fake relationship, fromAndrew.
Attempting to actively not think about his feelings, he settles on a slightly safer subject— Andrew showering. This is the wrong thing to focus on though because now Nicholas is half-hard and palming himself at the first thought of water gliding down Andrew’s bronze skin.
