The Whys of Us

34

The album does well. It does more than well, and Celine has interview after interview coming for her, and she says that she owes the album's success to the production crew—especially to Rhysand.

Andy feels so proud.

"You're watching another again," Rhysand mutters, burying his head in her stomach, tightening his arms around her small body.

Andy grins, turning up the volume of her phone. Another of Celine's interviews just came out this morning. "She keeps saying RH. And I'm proud. That's my man!"

"You're embarrassing," he says sleepily.

Andy runs her free hand across the soft strands of his hair. "You did so well, babe. I mean, it cost us a nasty fight, but you're so talented. Look, the question is about the making—she said RH again!"

"Turn it off," he grumbles, slapping her phone away until it lands on the bed. "I'm reminded of how shitty I was to you while I was making it."

Andy's smile softens. She bends down to kiss the top of his head. "It's still beautiful, though. I love it. It's the first album you produced at Sterling."

"Thank you," Rhysand murmurs in her shirt, shifting to lay more comfortably in her lap. "You wanna get groceries? We're out of those strawberry-flavored snacks that you like."

"Take a nap first and we'll go," Andy says, massaging his scalp. "I have a list of things we need to get, thank you for reminding me about my snacks."

Rhysand hums and closes his eyes.

And later, at the grocery store, Andy wears his college shirt and his cap, pairing it with denim shorts and her sneakers. The shirt is big, its sleeves reaching her elbows, but Andy loves it anyway.

Rhysand does, too. He pushes the cart and tosses in cheese. "Where did you even find that?"

"When I was cleaning out your closet a few weeks ago." She grins and twirls around. "Like it?"

"You look small," he says, pulling the hem of the shirt towards him, and Andy stumbles forward forcefully, placing her palms on Rhysand's chest to keep from falling. Rhysand leans his head down to kiss her lips quickly, then he lightly flicks her forehead. "And you smell like me."

"Which means you like it."

"'Course I do, you're cute as fuck," he murmurs, adjusting the cap on her head, gently brushing her loose strands of hair away from her face. "What's next on the list?"

"Milk," she says. She takes the cart away from him, pushing it with a run and hopping onto the metal bar that holds its rear wheels together.

"Baby, stop that," Rhysand calls behind her, but it's flat and distracted, and Andy turns her head to see him choosing between two types of milk.

Andy turns the cart around and does it again, setting her foot down as soon as she reaches him. "What are you deciding on?"

"This one is what J likes," he mutters, raising his left hand. "This one is what I like." He raises his right hand.

Andy bites her lip, trying to keep her smile in. "We'll get both, then. What do you usually buy?"

"The one he likes." He scrunches his nose.

Andy doesn't know the difference, but it's sweet he chooses what Jenner likes instead of his own. She grabs the two cartons and places them inside the cart. "Okay, done, come on."

Andy hops onto the metal again, intending to push it forward with her other foot, but Rhysand gets behind her and runs, pushing the cart for her.

The cart rolls too fast. "Rhysand!" she shouts, laughing, eyes wide. She steps on the ground when she gets to the end of the aisle, afraid to bump into another person, but she stumbles as she does so because of the cart's speed. "Babe!" She twists around to glare at him. "I could've fallen!"