Page 84 of Break the Rule
“Sorry,” Andrew apologizes, shoulders hunched down. “I uh, I always bring Charlie’s groceries on Sunday mornings. I saw your car in the driveway and realized you were here, but I thought I could sneak in and quietly put them away and leave before anyone noticed I was here.”
“Why?”
“I like grocery shopping and Charlie doesn’t. The stores are dead this early, and it’s kind of peaceful. Plus, if I don’t buy him groceries, he lives on takeout or forgets to eat.”
“That sounds like Charlie,” Eden muses, fully prepared to give Charlie shit for being unable to buy his own food later. “But I meant why were you trying to sneak in without being noticed?”
“Because you’re here.”
“You didn’t wanna see me?”
“The other way around, truthfully,” Andrew says, hands shoved into his pockets. “Charlie’s partners don’t usually like it when I’m here. That or they proposition me.”
Eden frowns at the look of discomfort on Andrew’s face.
“It’s fine, I get it. I’m a third wheel. I just?—”
“No,” Eden interjects. “You’re not.”
“I am,” Andrew tells him, and the fact that he’s smiling now makes Eden want to kick something. To his surprise, he and Andrew have texted quite a few times over the last week, never about anything deep but enough for Eden to realize that Andrew is maybe as lonely as he is, and also hiding just as much. “It’s not a big deal, Eden. I’m not offended. Why would anyone want me around when they could have Charlie?”
The way he says it makes it clear he believes it, making things so much worse.
“Sit down,” Eden barks, stalking across the kitchen.
“What?”
“I said sit the fuck down, Andrew.” Eden moves to the cupboard where he found the coffee mugs the night before, pulling two down. He doesn’t even like coffee but damned if he’s gonna say that right now. “I’m making coffee. You’re staying.”
“You’re in the wrong cupboard if you’re looking for coffee,” Andrew says, moving around Eden and opening the cupboard above the stove. One that Eden can’t fucking reach. Stupid fucking tall people cupboards. Without a word, Andrew brings the canister of ground coffee down along with a scooper and a stack of coffee filters. When Eden does nothing more than stare at them, wondering how the fuck you turn that into disgusting bean liquid, Andrew takes over. “I’ll make the coffee, maybe you sit down.”
“Fine, but only because you know how to use the machine.”
“Of course,” Andrew replies, opening the top of the pot and layering in one of the paper coffee filters. He pops open the lid on the coffee next, lifting it to his nose and inhaling deeply before lowering the tin and scooping out six perfectly level scoops. Then he lowers the lid, pressing several buttons on the machine before it starts to gurgle.
“Is that all?”
“For the coffee, yes. You like cream or sugar?” Andrew asks, retrieving the first from the fridge and the second from a different cupboard.
“Both,” Eden answers, hoping that the addition of them might make the coffee slightly more palatable than the last time he’d tried to drink that swill.
Andrew hums softly to himself, adding a generous amount of cream and sugar to one cup while putting barely any sugar but a fair amount of cream in the next. Once the pot finishes gurgling, Andrew fills both cups with coffee, giving each of them a stir before carrying them to the table.
“I really don’t have to stay,” Andrew says after a long moment of quiet. He sips his coffee, eyes darting down the hallway and back to Charlie. “I don’t want to intrude.”
“Charlie’s sleeping like the dead, you’re keeping me company.”
“He does that,” Andrew laughs. “Fucker could sleep through anything.”
Eden huffs out a sound of agreement lifting coffee. The scent wafts up to his nose, sweet and rich. Tentatively, he takes a sip hoping it might taste as good as it smells and nearly gags. Disgusting. It should be illegal for something to smell this good and taste like burnt tree bark.
“Did I make it wrong?” Andrew frowns. “Did you need more sugar or cream?”
“I don’t think there’s enough sugar and milk in existence to make this taste good,” Eden admits.
Understanding dawns on Andrew’s face. “You hate coffee.”
It’s not a question, but Eden offers a half-shrug in confirmation before he pushes the mug away. Not even for Andrew can he drink this shit.
