Page 32 of Seal the Deal
“Not a princess,” Andrew huffs, hating how much he doesn’t hate the name.
“So particular,princess.”
Even as a protest rises on his lips, Andrew fights it off. Maybe this isn’t real, and yes, it’s going to end when Nicki doesn’t need him anymore, but they’re already pretending to be boyfriends. What’s one more layer to their pretending?
“Did I finally find a way to shut you up?” Nick asks.
“No, I was just thinking.”
“Was it about how much fun you had? I was right, wasn’t I? Say it.”
“No,” Andrew protests, even as a tired smile pulls at his lips.
Nicki is a lot of things—a pain in the ass, self-centered, rich, famous, way out of Andrew’s league, but alsoreal. He’s exactly what he seems, no bullshit or subterfuge, and Andrew likes that about him. He likes it a little too much.
When all of this is said and done, when Nicki walks away, Andrew suspects it’s going to hurt.
It’s going to hurt a hell of a fucking lot.
7NICHOLAS
Nicholas holds his breath,unsure what the fuck he’s gotten himself into. There’s a mess of black hair against his shoulder, a slim body curled into his side, and every few minutes Nicholas stretches his fingers before reaffirming the hold he has on Andrew, who neither moves nor responds to the gentle squeeze of his shoulder. If Nicholas didn’t know better, he’d swear Andrew had somehow fallen asleep—except for the way he’s tracing a pattern on Nicholas’s thigh. Three circles clockwise, then three circles counterclockwise, over and over.
This might be the longest Nicholas has ever touched anyone without trying to fuck them or fight them, and while it’s not bad, it’s unfamiliar enough that he’s growing uneasy. He’s not even sure what possessed him to sink to the floor and hug Andrew after he’d decimated the room. He just looked so, well—broken.
Once, and only once, has Nicholas been on a team that made it to the playoffs. The Stanley cup was so close they could all taste it. They’d played their hearts out and fought harder than any of them ever had, and they’d still fucking lost. That loss haunts Nicholas, but so do the faces of his teammates—the way they’d fallen to the ice in exhaustion as if everything in them was simply gone. That was how Andrew looked.
For an hour, Andrew King had broken every single thing in their rage rooms, unleashing a kind of singleminded fury Nicholas has rarely seen from anyone. The kind of intensity and anger he never expected to see from Andrew. He screamed and raged and let everything out, and then he’d fallen to the floor as broken as the room he just destroyed. Nicholas hadn’t been thinking, had only known he couldn’t let Andrew sit there alone.
Were it anyone else, he’d have shoved them off him already. Hell, he wouldn’t have let them on him in the first place. Something about Andrew is different. Maybe it’s because he’s only here because Nicki made him come on this date, or because Nicki needs him to be his fake boyfriend, or maybe it’s because the sight of Andrew—perfectly put together Andrew, with his khakis and polos and patient smiles—falling apart made Nicki feel something he’s not sure he’s ever felt before.
“Our time is going to run out soon,” Nicholas lies.
There’s no time limit here. He paid for the entire night. He just has no fucking idea how else to broach conversation with Andrew.
“Sorry,” Andrew apologies, his voice rough and raw, probably from all the earlier screaming. “I shouldn’t have crashed. I’m sorry, I?—”
“Stop apologizing, princess.”
The nickname sneaks out without his permission. What was initially intended to be teasing feels anything but when Andrew sags hearing it.
Andrew might be King in name, but Nicki has discovered the truth—he’s a princess. Strong yet delicate. Gorgeous. Deserving of protection.
“We should go.” Andrew says, attempting to stand with trembling arms and legs. He’s clearly not used to this kind of physicality, but Nicholas is and he stands first, all but hauling Andrew from the floor and into his arms. Andrew might not bea small man but Nicholas has got a good four inches on him and a hell of a lot of muscles so it’s easy enough to do. While his own body is built to take hits and score goals, Andrew’s body has sharp angles and long limbs. He’s masculine, but there’s something delicate about him, his body slumping into Nicholas’s arms.
“I got you,” Nicholas says, unsure what the fuck is coming out of his mouth.
“Thanks,” Andrew whispers, shoving the goggles off. His cheeks are rimmed in red, his eyes bloodshot and his hair a mess.
“You look like shit, princess.”
“Oh, fuck off,” Andrew snorts.
The way he half-smiles, the small curl of his lip and the lilt in his voice, goes straight to Nicki’s cock. He’s kind of gorgeous.
“Think I’m too tired for fucking tonight,” Nicholas says.
“That must be a real tragedy for you,” Andrew says, taking a step back out of Nicholas’s embrace. He lets his arms fall to his sides, wishing he had a reason to reach for Andrew again.
