Page 71 of Seal the Deal
“Maybe.”
“You absolutely will not,” Andrew laughs.
Nicholas absolutely would, but he doesn’t say that, choosing to follow Andrew to his car. The drive across town is fairly easy since the traffic is light. As he expected, there are in fact, a few lingering paparazzi, but they keep their distance this time, though the flash of cameras lets Nicholas know their respect is minimal at best.
Tugging the hood over his head, Andrew hunches into himself as they exit the car, quiet when Nicholas pulls him against his side.
“Eyes on me, princess. They mean nothing.”
Andrew’s eyes do actually rise to meet Nicholas’s, the intensity of that gaze enough to make a weaker man flinch, but Nicholas isn’t weak nor is he easily flustered. There’s something heady about the way Andrew listens, ignoring the rest of the world in favor of focusing all of his attention on Nicholas.
The part of his brain that craves attention flares to life. Nicholas has always liked attention, but from Andrew it’s even better. Nicholas might as well be ten fucking feet tall, letting his right arm loop around Andrew’s shoulder to keep him close even once they’re inside the building.
They pass a few other tenants waiting for the elevator, another whose gaze follows them down the hallway as they make it to Andrew’s apartment, but no one speaks to them.
“You can give me personal space now,” Andrew points out, retrieving his house key from where he stashed it in his pocket before they left.
“Why would I do that when yours is so much better,” Nicholas croons.
This is the point most people would bat their eyes and beg Nicholas for something—an autograph, a kiss, the fuck of their life. Andrew, however, merely laughs.
Unsure if he’s disgruntled or pleased by that reaction, Nicholas drapes himself across Andrew’s back.
“I wasn’t expecting company, so don’t judge me if it’s messy.” His hand tightens on the front door, like he’s genuinely waiting for a reply.
“Not going to judge you, princess.”
Apparently mollified by the promise, Andrew swings the door open. Only, instead of the calm, quiet apartment he expects, he’s met with six unfamiliar faces. Or five. One of them shares Andrew’s face, but he wears it worse, especially combined with the paint stained neon orange shirt he’s got on under his floral overalls. Making things even worse is the bright red Crocs on his feet. FuckingCrocs. Just looking at them offends Nicholas’s eyes.
“Thank god you’re okay,” Andrew’s twin says, moving into the doorway to wrap himself around Andrew.
Taking a step back to avoid being touched by the Rainbow Brite version of Andrew, he studies them both, marveling at how they can look so similar and so different. Nicholas tries to ignore the discomfort and jealousy flaring to life watching the others—his brothers presumably, take turns hugging him. One of them is tall, almost as tall as Nicki but built like a fucking linebacker with dark hair and a too bright smile. The other one is a petite thing with a mop of curls and a face of freckles who it turns out seems to be the source of most of the talking. He shoots an unimpressed look at Nicholas in the hallway before wrapping himself around Andrew.
It’s hard to imagine having anyone, let alone an apartment full of people, who would care if Nicholas didn’t answer his phone for a few hours. Hell, he’s gone days ignoring his phone,and the most he got was a text from Amanda calling him an asshole. He once went two months without a word to his parents, who probably would only be upset if he died because it would force them to redo their financial planning.
These people in the apartment though, they clearly love Andrew, pulling him inside and swarming around him in a protective bubble. As if Andrew needs to be protected from Nicholas. Fuck them.
There’s another guy, even smaller than the freckled brother, with a shock of white blond hair and a scowl that could put a weaker man in the grave. He’s looking at Nicholas like he wants to hit him, which is oddly the most settling thing that’s happened since they arrived here.
With a smile, Nicholas winks at him, watching as the petite blond guy stalks across the room, raising his hand and opening his mouth.
“Easy, Eden,” Charlie says, grabbing him around the middle.
The blond—Eden apparently—flails against being restrained. “Stay the fuck out of this, Charlie.”
“Actually no, Andrew is my brother, so I’m going to stay in this.”
“Me too,” freckles pipes up.
“What exactly are we staying in?” The big guy asks. He’s moved to the couch to seat himself next to another man with a shock of red hair and big, doe-shaped green eyes, watching everyone with clear apprehension. Beside them is another giant of a man with blond hair and glasses, who leans over the redhead to whisper something to the big one. Nicholas can’t figure out their dynamic, wondering if all three of them are a couple.
“Who is he, anyway?” Freckles asks, staring at Nicholas, who has moved into the doorway, unsure if he should come inside but absolutely refusing to leave.
“This is Nicholas Whitmore, my boyfriend,” Andrew says as if they’ve practiced it a million times. As if Nicholas is hisrealboyfriend.
“Boyfriend?” Freckles gapes.
“Fucking excuse me,” Charlie shouts.
