Chapter 13 Nicholas #3
“Are you fucking implying we lost tonight because I don’t braid your fucking hair or something?”
“First off, I would look great in braids, second of all, I’m saying we’re good, but we could be better.
And if you want me to say it as your captain then I’ll say it.
You missed two golden opportunities out there tonight.
Can I prove it’s because you don’t trust your teammates to have your back?
No, I can’t, but I know you hogged the goddamn puck, so either you didn’t trust us, or you’re a fucking show off. Which is it, Whitmore?”
“Bit of both,” Nicholas acknowledges unhappily.
“Right, so call your boyfriend, shower then meet us at the address I text you.”
“I never agreed,” Nicholas points out, unsure when things so rapidly turned around. Usually Tony lets him be an antisocial fuckhead, coming around to smile and pose for the interns who run the team social media accounts and on PR days but otherwise allowing him to ignore everyone.
“And I’m not asking.” Tony does a two finger salute before sauntering over to Anders and Sergei.
On the way to the showers, Sergei smiles at him, Anders blushes, and Davey makes a dad joke so bad Nicholas feels certain he should be arrested for crimes against comedy. Nicholas is pretty sure he liked it better when no one talked to him.
Taking the world's most perfunctory shower, Nicholas makes his way back out to his locker to change. Most of the guys are in the shower or decompressing with music or their phones, so Nicholas grabs his, shooting off a text to Andrew.
Nicholas
Are you busy?
Not thirty seconds later a text comes in.
Andrew
That depends on the why?
Nicholas
Either you’re busy or you’re not, princess.
Andrew
You’re such a fucking only child. You would be surprised at what my brothers have asked me to do late at night. If anything you need requires an alibi, real clothes, or me driving then I’m busy. Otherwise, I'm lying on the couch reading.
A smile tugs at the corner of Nicholas’s mouth picturing Andrew spread out on his couch with that Kindle of his. Probably reading some spicy romance, if that one glance he got at his library was any indication.
Nicholas
Is it fairy porn?
Andrew
I hate you. I’m very busy. Stop texting me.
Unable to resist, Nicholas hits call, gratified when Andrew answers on the second ring.
“This is not leaving me alone.”
“You didn’t tell me to leave you alone, you said not to text and I’m not.”
“Fucking sneaky bastard.” Andrew laughs. “What’s up?”
“I need you.”
“That’s very vague. I’m going to need some specifics.”
“I need my boyfriend to come meet the team tonight. Captain’s orders.”
“Oh.” Andrew sighs, adjusting himself on the couch, if the sounds of shuffling are anything to go by. “I uh…how long do I have?”
“You don’t have to come,” Nicholas says, surprised at himself for offering Andrew an out. This was sort of the whole point of having a fake boyfriend. Andrew was supposed to do what he wanted and needed, and he wasn’t supposed to care where Andrew’s feelings fit into the equation.
“No, that’s our deal. I just need to change out of my home clothes and muster up the fortitude to drive.”
“I’ll send a car for you.”
“I have a car,” Andrew reminds him.
“Yeah, but you don’t want to drive. Let me send someone. Boyfriend privileges.”
“Is this what you’d do for any boyfriend?” Andrew asks.
No. This is only for you.
“Yeah,” Nicholas lies.
“Alright, then—yeah, okay. I’ve got a headache, and I don’t feel like dealing with traffic. I’d rather read my book.”
Nicholas wonders if he can hire Andrew a car permanently so he can read his Kindle on his commute. He should look into it and see if he can find a way to get Andrew to agree to it.
“How long do I have?” Andrew questions.
“I’m not sure. Tony, my captain, is going to text me the address. It’s in town, I think. Once I’ve got the location, I’ll send a car for you. I’ll text you when they’re there to pick you up. Don’t open the fucking gate for anyone. My security team will handle making sure it’s the right car.”
“That seems slightly overprotective,” Andrew says, but his voice is quiet. “But thank you. I feel better knowing you’ve got it covered.”
Pride makes Nicholas sit a little straighter. He’s never been the person who made anyone feel better about, well anything, except when sex was involved. Somehow making Andrew feel safe is better than any orgasm he’s ever had, which is not something he knows how to acknowledge or handle.
“I better go put on my be a human clothes.”
“If you’re not a human now, what are you?
” Nicholas questions, still trying to parse through the way Andrew talks about himself.
He knows it’s related to his neurodivergence, but Nicholas has no experience with it, and he wants to learn.
He might be an asshole, but he doesn’t want to be an asshole about that, ever.
Especially not since he gets the feeling Andrew isn’t this honest with almost anyone else.
“I am a blob, Nicki. I am a comfortable blob. I took a thirty minute shower hot enough to strip away the entire long ass day, and then I put on my home clothes, which means I am only fifty percent human.”
“I can’t tell if you’re joking.”
“I’m not joking,” Andrew says in a tone that makes it abundantly clear he’s not. Before Nicholas can ask if he’s actually up to coming, Andrew is speaking again. “It’s fine, I just need to go change and brush my hair. I’ll be good. I’ll see you soon.”
True to his word, when the car Nicholas ordered for him pulls up to the curb to the brewery forty-five minutes later, Andrew is stepping out dressed exactly as Nicholas expects—perfectly pressed khakis and a butter yellow polo shirt.
“Hey,” he says, tugging at his open collar. He looks exhausted and uncomfortable, and Nicholas feels like even more of an asshole than usual for dragging Andrew out.
“You look like shit.”
“Wow, you really know how to flatter a guy,” Andrew says with a shake of his head.
“I just meant—”
“I know what you meant," Andrew says with a tight smile. “It was a long day. Before we go in, what do I need to know?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, what do I need to know? Which team members get along and which don’t? Are there any power dynamics I should be aware of? Are there any topics of conversation that might make anyone uncomfortable or cause friction?”
“How the fuck would I know?”
“Uh, they’re your team.”
“And?”
“Oh my god, I’m going in blind,” Andrew groans. He pinches the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath before straightening his shoulders. “Thank god I did some research on your teammates on the drive over instead of reading like I wanted to.”
“You didn’t need to do that.”
Andrew fixes him with a stern look. “Clearly, I did. Come on, let’s get this over with.”
They make their way inside where the rest of his team is already seated in the back of the brewery—the only space large enough for their group.
Several tables have been pushed together to make room for his teammates and several of their partners.
The only empty chairs left are at the head of the table next to Tony, and Nicholas wants to groan, pretty sure that was not an accident.
“Whitmore, get your ass over here and introduce us to your better half.”
Grudgingly, Nicholas guides Andrew to the table, letting his hand remain at Andrew’s lower back. To his surprise, none of the unease and stress that was radiating off him earlier is visible, and if Nicholas didn’t know for sure that Andrew felt crappy, he wouldn’t have had any idea.
At their arrival, the table falls silent, everyone’s eyes swiveling to him and Andrew.
“Are you going to introduce us?” Tony asks.
“This is Andrew,” Nicholas says through gritted teeth.
“Andrew King,” Andrew offers, holding a hand out to Tony. “Nice to meet you. You’re Tony Wilson. Impressive stats for scoring, longest running captain in Santa Leon history making you a shoe-in for the hall of fame, and you put up with Nicki.”
“Nicki,” Tony echoes, eyes widening.
“Call me that again, and the only place your name is going to end up is a tombstone.”
His teammates' laughter is so goddamn loud, it’s a miracle they don’t get kicked out.
“Nicki,” Pavel grins from beside Tony.
“Pavel Terov,” Andrew starts. “Called up to Santa Leon from the AHL. Your numbers are always good, but this season you’ve had an impressive plus-minus ratio. Overall, your stats indicate you’ve got strong decision making skills on the ice but also strong defensive plays.”
Pavel looks like the moon shines out of his goddamn fucking ass. Nicholas wonders how much trouble he’d get in for punching him.
“I like your boyfriend, Nicki.”
“You also have a large number of high danger shots and a history of unpaid parking tickets.”
Nicholas’s lips quirk up in the corner as Pavel sinks into his chair, flipping off the entire table. His girlfriend, whose name Nicholas can’t remember, kisses his cheek, which has him cracking a smile.
“You’re going to fit right in,” Tony laughs. “Sit next to me, Andrew. Tell me everything you know about hockey.”
“To be honest, I don’t completely understand hockey,” Andrew admits, lowering himself into the chair beside Tony. “I’m more of a numbers man. The stats I understand. The meaning of those stats on the ice and the real world implications of certain choices not so much.”
“Nicholas, why haven’t you taught your guy hockey? Hell, why hasn’t he come to watch us play? There’s only a handful of games before the regular season is over.”
“Nicholas has never invited me to a game,” Andrew says in a way that would make it seem like they’ve been together a lot longer than they have. It’s a tactful choice, smart, and it has Tony shaking his head.
“You better bring him before the season ends.”
“Actually,” Andrew says, “I’ll be at your next home game.”
“Since when?”
“Since Mark invited me.”