Chapter 14 Andrew
Andrew settles into a new routine surprisingly fast. Not because it’s easy but because Andrew stoutly refuses to exist in life without the structure of a routine.
By the third day of living in Nicki’s home, he’s managed to acquire Nicki’s entire training and game schedule out of him and added it to his phone to ensure he knows when he will be home.
This allows Andrew to coordinate their free time, his time with Charlie and schedule in time he can be alone to read.
According to Nicki, he’s not going to any more team bonding events and won’t need Andrew at the drop of a hat again, but Andrew doesn’t believe him.
Both because the unplanned happens all the time and because Nicki had been surprisingly relaxed by the end of the evening, and he strongly suspects if they’re invited again Nicki might want to go.
Not that Nicki would admit it. For a man who can have just about anything he wants in life, he seems shockingly reticent to admit his own desires.
Luckily for Nicki, Andrew managed to get Tony’s phone number last night, so if there is another team event he will know and help facilitate Nicki’s presence accordingly.
Determined as he is to see it, Nicki deserves to have his team at his back and when Andrew is gone, well—he wants him to have more support.
Thinking about being gone leaves a bitter taste in Andrew’s mouth even after only a few days.
Not just because of the view—but honestly, Andrew would give his first child to wake up to the sun rising over the Pacific every day.
Not that he wants kids. That task is definitely better left to his brothers.
Andrew will be the dutiful tío who gets to spoil them and then give them back.
Wandering Nicki’s house before work, a cup of coffee in one hand and his phone in the other, he pauses in the living room to overlook the yard with its beautiful views and staircase to the sea.
This would be a nice home for a family. He can’t help but wonder if Nicki wants one.
Probably not yet since he’s so busy with hockey and his ad campaigns but one day.
Does he want a partner? A family? It’s not Andrew’s place to ask, but he can wonder all the same, sipping his coffee as the first rays of warm light rise on the horizon.
When his phone buzzes, he nearly spills his coffee down the front of his shirt.
Charlie
are you still alive?
Andrew
Nope.
Charlie
smartass
gotta make sure you haven’t been taken by a body snatcher or killed by that giant oaf you’re living with. You must be miserable.
Andrew can’t help but snort. Yeah, he’s super miserable being stuck in a multi-million dollar mansion watching the sun rise over the sea, sleeping on high thread count sheets with no neighbors.
Over the years, Andrew went from living in a house full of brothers and no privacy to living with Charlie to living in an apartment boxed in by noisy neighbors.
He’s never lived anywhere as quiet and peaceful as Nicki’s house, and he could really get used to it.
Sure, the circumstances are pretty outlandish, but after the stress of the actual change, it’s been nice living here.
Weird at times, since nothing is where Andrew is used to but really fucking nice.
Going back to his apartment where he can hear the upstairs neighbors' vacuum and the low hum of bass when his elderly next door neighbor watches the t.v.
on full volume without her hearing aids is going to be rough.
In lieu of explaining any of this to Charlie, he takes a quick photo of his current view—a cup of coffee balanced on his knee with the early morning light making the water look like it's sparkling in the background.
The reply is almost instant.
Charlie
damn. did you propose yet?
Andrew
That’s not going to happen. It’s not that serious.
Charlie
It’s obviously getting serious fast if you’ve moved in.
Andrew
Temporarily moved in. Until the paparazzi thing blows over.
Charlie
you hate temporary. besides I know you, Annie, you’d do anything for that view. Im happy for you.
The easy acceptance from Charlie hits him hard.
His brother is right. This is the kind of thing Andrew has always dreamed of—understated luxury, not for the sake of status but for the kind of lifestyle it might afford particularly in relation to the peace and quiet Andrew craves.
Equally appealing is having a partner to share it with.
Too bad all of it is fake.
Needing to change the subject before he ends up morose, he shoots off another text to his brother.
Andrew
Why are you awake this early?
Charlie
I haven’t gone to bed yet. Eden stayed at his place last night so I’ve been painting. Didn’t realize what time it was until the sun came up and nearly blinded me.
Andrew
Go to bed. But make sure to have some protein first since you probably forgot to eat—there should be string cheese and hardboiled eggs in the fridge. I saw them yesterday.
Charlie
how did you know I haven’t eaten?
Andrew
because I know you
Charlie
wanna hit up Juanita’s for dinner tonight?
Andrew
Can’t, I’m going to the hockey game with a few guys from work.
Charlie
booooooring
Andrew
You’re just mad no one gets naked.
Charlie
Hockey would be infinitely more interesting if they were naked
Andrew
There’d also be a lot more injuries. The insurance alone would likely negate any potential increase in profit margin.
Charlie
you’re going to put me to sleep talking about profit margins
Andrew
Good. Go to bed. You’re not twenty anymore, you can’t pull all nighters.
Charlie
I hate you mostly because you’re right my eyes are starting to hurt I’m getting old, Annie
Andrew
Sleep deprivation can definitely cause increased signs of aging.
Charlie
you know what I’m going to bed, don’t get too wild at that hockey game. actually I take that back get wild, Annie. Do something to get put on the—whatever the fuck the big screen is called
Andrew
The Jumbotron.
Charlie
yes that! get put on the jumbotron
Andrew
I am not getting put on the Jumbotron.
Aware from many, many past experiences that he and Charlie can get caught up in fake arguing over text, or talking about nothing and everything, he sends another text reminding Charlie to sleep.
After, he pockets his phone and makes his way back to the kitchen for a second cup of coffee and some food before he needs to leave for work.
The commute from Nicki’s house is half what it was from his apartment, so he doesn’t have to rush.
It’s great but also unfamiliar and leaves Andrew staring at the fridge.
He’s eaten microwave oatmeal for breakfast every work day for the last year since he took this job because it’s easy.
Except he doesn’t actually like oatmeal very much.
It was more of something he had the first day of his new job because it was quick and light on his stomach, and once he did that it just stuck as part of his routine.
Aside from being quick, the other reason Andrew went with oatmeal is because he cannot cook.
He’s not as bad as Charlie, who should quite literally be banned from the kitchen.
He can manage eggs, a quesadilla or assemble a meal kit when the instructions are explicit, but he finds the need to feed himself multiple times a day so tedious, he often puts in as little effort into it as possible.
This morning though, he feels like maybe a little effort wouldn’t hurt.
He’s got a long day at work and then the hockey game tonight means he’s going to be unable to have as much control over the food later as he wants.
Taking that control now soothes a part of Andrew, and he focuses on that sense of control while he cuts up a flour tortilla into bite sized pieces.
These are eventually dumped into a skillet with just enough hot oil to fry the pieces.
Once that’s done, he adds in the eggs, scrambled in a bowl first, listening to the satisfying sizzle when the egg meets oil.
“Why does it smell like food?”
Nicki’s voice is heavy with sleep, and when Andrew turns to look at him, his body is full of it, too. There’s no sign of the effortlessly cool and collected Nicholas Whitmore. Just a sleepy man with pillow lines on his cheek, bedhead, and rumpled sleep pants.
Though Andrew would never acknowledge it to anyone but himself, he likes this stripped down version of Nicki best.
“Thought you’d sleep in since it’s game day.”
“Food,” Nicki grunts, plastering himself across the kitchen island.
Turning the heat down low so it won’t burn, Andrew gives the food a good stir before moving to the cupboard to get a cup.
He’s memorized Nicki’s favorite coffee, easily since he takes it surprisingly simple—three shots, steamed whole milk and one sugar.
That, and Nicki’s fancy coffee machine does it all for you if you know what you want.
In only a minute, he’s sliding a steaming latte in front of Nicki, rewarded with a surprised smile when Nicki opens his eyes to look at the coffee then at Andrew.
“You can stay forever.”
“Gotta earn my keep somehow,” Andrew jokes, and though he laughs, a part of it feels true. He doesn’t want to add stress or inconvenience to Nicki’s life. Sure, their deal might be for Nicki’s benefit, but Andrew’s the one invading Nicki’s home and changing his schedule.
“Don’t gotta fucking earn nothing,” Nicholas gripes, grumpy as ever.
His behavior is comforting to Andrew. It’s probably weird that he likes how cantankerous Nicki can be, but not only is the predictability something Andrew appreciates, there’s nothing false in it.
Nicki doesn’t do passive aggressive or hide his moods, and it’s nice to know what to expect.
After several days living with Nicki that means expecting that he isn’t human until he’s had his first coffee.