Andrew wanted Elle to ask him again if he understood. It had taken a couple of years but now when he said “yes,” it would be real. Because what he felt for Brian was real. It wasn’t what he’d felt for Elle at the start of their relationship, and it wasn’t what he felt for his other mates now. This thing he felt for Brian was different, but it was love. Quiet and solid and strong, like the foundation of a house, and Andrew had been building a framework on that foundation unknowingly for years. Seven months ago he’d finally seen the framework, finally understood, when Brian had been holding him over the toilet as Andrew vomited up everything in his body after a chemo treatment.
That wasn’t when Andrew fell in love with his best friend. It was just the moment he recognised it.
Andrew set his alarm for the same time as he’d set Brian’s, determined to talk to his best friend in the morning.
The obnoxious burble of his phone’s alarm woke Andrew too early, then he remembered why he’d set it for five instead of six-thirty. He rolled out of bed and opened his bedroom door. Opposite, Brian’s door was open and from down the hall came the sound of the shower. Brian had to have woken up before his alarm, but at least he hadn’t yet left the house.
Archimedes, currently planted on the end of Brian’s bed grooming himself intimately, looked up at Andrew, gave a purely feline sniff of distaste, and went back to licking his butt.
“Traitor,” Andrew muttered to the cat on his way past to the stairs. He was barely halfway down when the cat trotted past him.
Archy was sitting by the fridge when Andrew got to the kitchen. His purr kicked in like an outboard motor when Andrew opened the fridge. Up on his hind legs, front paws on Andrew’s knee, he smashed his face into his thigh, rubbing one cheek then the other over him.
“Aw, kitty kisses. Someone wants milk.”
While Archy might have been confused about his name, he was never confused about milk. At the mention of it, he stretched up a paw to the shelf on the door that held the almond milk, not quite able to reach it.
Laughing, Andrew nudged Archy out of the way and reached into the very back of the fridge where he’d hidden the small bottle of full cream dairy milk he’d bought especially for the cat. The almond milk was only good for the humans of the household.
Archy made constant little meows as Andrew found him a clean bowl and poured the thick white liquid, following him from fridge to cupboard to bench to laundry, where he was fed, so closely Andrew almost tripped a couple of times. When the bowl was down, he all but dive-bombed it. Andrew was certain more milk ended up on the floor than in Archy’s belly.
“How long have we had this?”
Andrew’s smile at Archy’s antics faded as Brian’s demand echoed out from the kitchen. Maybe this morning wasn’t the time to talk.
“How long have we had what?” he asked, heading back that way.
“Milk. Real milk. Cow milk.”
“It’s for Archy. Almond milk isn’t good for cats.” Andrew rounded the corner and found Brian scooping instant grounds into a coffee cup with one hand, the dairy milk clutched to his chest with the other, like he was afraid Andrew would take it off him. He was mostly dressed for work in a short sleeve button down and dress pants. Feet bare, hair damp from the shower, ocean-coloured eyes narrowed.
Brian threw him a glare. “You’ve been hiding it from me.”
“It’s been in plain sight this whole time. Behind the apples.”
“I hate apples.”
“Precisely,” Andrew said under his breath as he opened the fridge again, this time for human sustenance.
“I heard that.” The kettle whistled and Brian poured milk then boiling water into his mug.
Nope. Today was not the day. Brian wasn’t great with the rational when he hadn’t had enough sleep, the lack thereof proven by the way he was slurping down the instant coffee rather than waiting to swing by the Coffee Box at Sharks before work.
“Do you want cereal or toast?” Andrew asked as blandly as he could.
“If I have cereal can I have some of the cat’s milk?” It came out about as bitter as the coffee he was drinking.
“You can have whatever you want.”
“Because you love me?”
Andrew’s stomach cramped like it had when he’d been having chemo. “No.”
Brian slurped his drink, eyeing Andrew over the rim of his mug with a steady, daring look. “What, now you don’t love me? After such a beautiful, drunken declaration the other night?”
“There is no point talking to you when you’re like this.” Andrew headed upstairs to get ready for work. Maybe tomorrow would be better. Brian didn’t say anything more, just came up in a couple of minutes to put on his shoes and grab his satchel. Waiting in his doorway for Brian to come out of his room again, Andrew said, “I’ll come home straight from work today. Want me to make chicken spaghetti for dinner?” A simple dish that was one of Brian’s favourites, but had been off the menu rotation for a while thanks to Andrew’s eat better campaign.
After a moment, Brian grunted. “There’s the Pad Thai from last night.”
“You’re not taking it for lunch?”
Brian appeared, shoed, combed, and looking a little sheepish. “Too nervous to eat still.”
Andrew’s heart went out to him. Brian was already a good doctor, but he didn’t have a lot of confidence in himself. He’d taken a couple of weeks with each of his intern rotations to get to a point where he wasn’t freaking out before each shift.
“Okay.” Andrew knew not to push him. “I’ll make a salad to have with it tonight.”
Brian nodded, not looking at him. “Gotta go. Can’t be late.”
“You’ll do great.”
Stopping at the top of the stairs, Brian turned around, his expression hesitant. Andrew thought maybe he was going to say something about the elephant between them, but he just grunted, “Thanks,” and hurried downstairs. Minutes later, the garage door cranked opened and the Jag’s rumbly engine started.
Tonight. Over salad and noodles. They’d talk tonight.
Terri picked him up again and Andrew made an effort to forget the tension with Brian and continue some of the conversations they’d had the night before on the drive down to Palm Beach. Thankfully there was no sign of the Tesla when they pulled up down the road from the work site.
“Ron should be in a better mood at least,” Terri said as they stowed their gear.
“Don’t bet on it,” Sam muttered. “He’s mad as a cut snake today.”
“Why this time?”
“Dunno. Just know I ain’t gonna get in his way today.”
Andrew and Terri agreed and headed out to start work. The crane booked to lift the trusses up to the top of the build arrived as they were organising jobs for the day. Ron appeared from out of the office as the crane was manoeuvring into position. He watched it critically, a deep frown on his face, arms crossed. Then his gaze found Andrew and his frown turned into a full-on scowl.
That was not good. Ducking his head, Andrew hurried over to help hook up the first truss. His back prickled the entire time he was within view of the office, so he swapped jobs with Damo, who wasn’t as keen to work the top as Andrew was. They worked steadily until lunch time, when the temperature broke thirty degrees and they all rushed to the shade and their eskies, inviting the crane operator to join them.