Chapter Two #2
Kyle laughed. He couldn’t help it. He quickly covered his mouth, cringing at how rude that reaction had been. “Sorry! I just wasn’t expecting that.”
Eric, thankfully, wasn’t offended. “You’re not the first person to be surprised by it. But you can check my Wikipedia page if you don’t believe me.”
“I believe you.” What Kyle couldn’t believe was how cruel the universe was for placing this absurdly perfect, absolutely forbidden man in front of him.
An older, athletic, confident man with a Harvard degree in English?
Come the fuck on. Kyle was so tempted to say something very flirtatious right now, just to see if he could shake Eric’s calm veneer.
Just to see if his dark eyes would show discomfort, or desire.
A stunning woman with blond hair and impeccable timing saved Kyle from conducting any inappropriate experiments. Regardless, Kyle felt Eric’s gaze on him the entire time he made the customer her vodka soda.
“You’re working at your friend’s engagement party,” Eric said after the woman left with her drink.
“Yeah. You noticed that, huh?”
Eric seemed to consider Kyle for a moment, as if he was trying to puzzle him out. There was something about the way Eric looked at him that had Kyle feeling very exposed. He nearly shivered.
“I’m not working working. It’s a private event and everyone who works here is also on the invite list because that’s how Kip rolls, but I don’t really know most of the guests, so I’m happy to help out behind the bar.”
“Better than making small talk with hockey players.” Eric’s lips curved up slightly as he said it.
Kyle leaned in. “Most of the time.”
For a moment, Eric didn’t say anything. He just stared intently at Kyle, as if he was unlocking all his secrets with his eyes.
His lips were still twisted into that amused little smile, and Kyle had no idea what was happening right now.
His dick was into it, though. His dick was always into unavailable men, so it could fuck off.
“So. Mocktails,” Kyle said, breaking the tension probably only he felt. He clapped his hands together. “Do you have any allergies?”
“Cats,” Eric said.
Kyle frowned. “Oh. I’ll have to change the recipe then.”
Eric laughed at that. His laugh warm and wonderful. Kyle wanted to wrap himself up in it like a blanket. Straight. Married. Kyle repeated to himself. Straight, married, and a professional hockey player. Also, probably fifteen years older than you.
“You don’t have to make me anything. Really,” Eric said. “I need to leave soon anyway.”
Kyle shouldn’t have felt as disappointed as he did by that. “You sure?”
“Yeah, I—” Eric lowered his voice. “Between you and me, I love Scott. And Kip. But I feel like I’ve been celebrating their relationship for going on three years now.”
Kyle grinned in delight. “I know, right? Like, we get it. You’re perfect and in love.”
“Disgusting,” Eric agreed. They both laughed.
“Seriously, though,” Eric said, looking a little ashamed of what he’d said about his friends, “I’m thrilled for them. Especially Scott. I’ve known him a long time, and he...well, he’s definitely earned his happiness.”
Kyle spotted Kip and Scott in the crowd. Scott had his arm wrapped firmly around Kip’s shoulders, and both men were beaming. “He got a good man,” Kyle said wistfully. When his gaze returned to Eric, he found sympathy in the other man’s eyes. It was startling.
“He did,” Eric agreed.
Kyle rolled his eyes, which was the immature thing he did when he didn’t want to deal with feelings. “Anyway. I should gather up some of the empties.” He grabbed a tray and gave Eric a parting wink before entering the drunken fray.
Eric watched Kyle maneuver his way through the crowded bar.
He watched his slim hips sliding this way and that, avoiding tables and people.
He watched his long fingers plucking bottles and empty glasses from tables.
He watched the way Kyle’s lips would stretch into a playful smile whenever anyone spoke to him.
He watched him for probably far too long. Until a hand on Eric’s shoulder broke him out of his trance.
“Who do you have your eye on?” Eric’s teammate and friend, Carter Vaughan, had managed to sneak up on him, which wasn’t easy. “There aren’t a lot of single women here tonight, but I wouldn’t rule Matti out as a possibility.”
“What are you ever talking about?”
“Like, I’m straight. A thousand percent. And I’m committed to Gloria a million percent, but I’ll admit it: Matti Jalo turns my head sometimes.”
“I’m not looking at anyone,” Eric lied. “I just zoned out for a minute.”
“Well, that I believe. As long as you’re not thinking about last night’s game. This is a party, Benny!”
“I’m not.”
Carter raised both eyebrows, then took a sip of his beer.
“I’m not,” Eric insisted.
“Okay. You having fun at all?”
Eric shrugged. “Sure. I’m glad they’re finally getting married, y’know?”
“It should have happened a year ago.”
“I think it’s smart to wait. You should know for sure it’s the person you want to spend the rest of your life with.”
“I’m pretty sure Scotty knew within a week.”
Eric couldn’t argue with that. His own marriage had taught him that rushing into a commitment to someone was a bad idea, but even he saw the hearts in Scott’s and Kip’s eyes when they looked at each other.
“How are you holding up?” Carter asked. The playful glint in his eyes softened to something more like concern. “Is this hard for you?”
Eric took a moment to consider his question. He liked to consider every question before answering. “A little. Maybe. Not that I’m not happy for Scott, but I’ve been thinking about my own wedding, I guess.”
The teasing sparkle was back in Carter’s eyes. “You can remember back that far?”
“Shut it.”
“I forget. Was Holly a war bride? Was she your nurse after the Germans shot you?”
“All right, I’m going home.”
Carter nudged him. “Seriously, though. I’m sorry if this is rough for you.”
“It’s been a year, almost. I’m over it. Really. I don’t miss Holly, but I do miss...” Eric shook his head.
“Regular sex?” Carter guessed.
“Companionship,” Eric finished with a glare at Carter. “Holly and I didn’t spend much quality time together the last few years, but it was still nice to have someone to talk to at night. When we were both home.”
“I’ll bet we can find someone who wouldn’t mind being your companion,” Carter said, making the word sound dirty.
Eric’s gaze found Kyle again, his tray now heaving under the weight of empty beer bottles and pint glasses.
Eric could see the bulge of his bicep straining the fabric of his white T-shirt.
He had an athletic figure—not jacked like the other bartender, but slim and toned.
Eric wondered if he played any sports, or if he just worked out a lot.
“I think I’ll head home,” Eric said, because checking out the very young man tending bar was definitely a sign that it was time to leave.
“Gotta rest those old bones,” Carter joked.
“Yeah, yeah.” Eric retrieved his long, black wool coat and olive-green cashmere scarf from the back of a barstool.
As he was wrapping the scarf around his neck, Kyle returned and plunked the heavy tray down on the bar. He brushed the strands of blond hair that had fallen over one eye back into place with his fingers. “You’re leaving?”
“Yes.” Eric glanced at his watch, as if the time was any kind of justification for leaving a party right now. It wasn’t even eleven o’clock yet.
“Past your bedtime?” Kyle’s voice had dropped into a sultry, husky timbre, which Eric knew was meant to be teasing, but it sent a surprising jolt through him.
“I’m not really a party guy.”
The thing Kyle was doing right then, leaning against the bar with his arms crossed, one shoulder raised just enough to make the hem of his T-shirt ride up to reveal the barest half inch of his flat stomach, probably worked on a lot of men.
It was undeniably alluring. Eric tore his gaze away from the strip of pale skin, shaking his head as he buttoned his coat.
“I remember when you used to be fun, Benny,” Carter said.
“No you don’t,” Eric said flatly.
Carter laughed. “No. I really don’t.”
“Goodnight, Carter.” Then, Eric turned to Kyle. “It was nice talking to you, Kyle.”
“Likewise.” The word slid out of Kyle’s mouth, rich and bordering on ridiculous.
Eric was embarrassed by the heat that bloomed low in his belly in response.
He turned and strode toward the exit before anyone noticed how flustered he was getting.
He didn’t like to ever appear anything less than steady and unshakable at all times.
He stepped outside into a cold November drizzle and wished he’d worn something water-resistant instead of his wool Burberry coat.
The frigid rain worked like an ice bath, though, easing the sparks that had been racing through Eric’s veins since he’d first laid eyes on Kyle tonight.
The truth was, he’d been...aware of Kyle for some time.
Eric had gone to the Kingfisher a handful of times over the past couple of years.
He’d go if Kip was working, ostensibly keeping Scott company but in reality just sitting there while Scott watched his boyfriend serve people drinks.
The second time he’d agreed to go, Kyle had been working with Kip, and Eric had been drawn to him for reasons he still couldn’t explain.
Well. He could at least partially explain it. Certainly it had something to do with Kyle’s winter-blue eyes, and his easy, seductive smiles. He seemed confident and fun in a completely different way from Eric’s teammates. It was alluring.
Eric noticed people. He always had. His ability to observe everything and everyone around him was an integral part of his goaltending career. Despite this, he wasn’t often attracted to other people. But he was definitely attracted to Kyle.
Even though it had been over a year since he’d last had sex, Eric hadn’t been missing it.
His sexual needs, such as they were, had always been satisfied one way or another.
But now a few flirtatious words and smiles from a beautiful young bartender and suddenly Eric’s libido was demanding attention.
There was a time when the fact that the bartender in question was a man would have terrified Eric.
For most of his life, he had chosen to ignore the part of him that was attracted to men.
He’d been married to Holly, after all, so there’d been no reason to think about it. That was what he had told himself.
But since Scott Hunter had come out as gay, things had changed.
Eric was lucky enough to have had a front-row seat to witness Scott’s happiness as he finally allowed himself to live and love the way he’d always been afraid to.
He wasn’t like Scott. He had loved Holly once, and he’d never been forced to hide who he really was.
Not in the same way. He’d just chosen not to reveal all of himself, because he’d never needed to.
But since his divorce, and now living in a brave new world where being attracted to men wasn’t an unthinkable thing for a hockey player, Eric had allowed himself to examine this thing that he’d buried so long ago.
To poke it a little. It was something that he thought he might like to explore, now that he was able.
But how? Where on earth did one start with that sort of thing?
With a flirty bartender?
No. Absolutely not. Kyle was much too young—barely older than the rookies on the team—so it was completely inappropriate.
More than that, it would be humiliating.
How much of a midlife crisis stereotype did Eric want to be?
Dating a man who was almost half his age was not happening.
There had to be a safer and more sensible option.
For the first time in Eric’s life, safe and sensible didn’t seem particularly appealing.