Chapter Seven
On Thursday night, Kyle followed Maria up the front steps of Eric’s townhouse. Because of course he’d decided to go to the party.
Here was the thing: by trying to make the right choices, Kyle realized he was actually making terrible choices that alienated him from his friends.
And prevented him from making new friends.
He reminded himself that not everything needed to be about sex.
Kip was a wonderful friend, and Eric seemed like a very nice guy who was intelligent and lovely to talk to.
There was absolutely no reason to avoid any of that.
And Kyle had totally convinced himself of all of that right up until the moment Eric answered the door.
Because holy hot damn. Eric, who, as far as Kyle could tell, never wore anything less formal than tailored slacks and a dress shirt, was wearing dark jeans and a charcoal T-shirt that clung to his broad, muscular chest and fluttered over his flat stomach.
When Kyle’s gaze made its way back up to Eric’s face, he found him studying him before his eyes widened in recognition. “Kyle?”
“Surprise,” Kyle said weakly. It looked like Eric was letting his beard fill in a bit, which was definitely a good look on him.
“I almost didn’t recognize you.”
Kyle grinned. “I know. I look different when I’m not at work.”
“You do. It took me a moment.” Eric tapped his own eyebrow. “Glasses.”
“Yeah, I um, I never wear them when I’m at the bar, but this is basically what I look like most of the time.”
Eric was staring at his face as if he couldn’t quite believe Kyle was the same person who served him sodas with lime. “You look good,” he finally said. “In glasses, I mean.”
Kyle enjoyed Eric’s brief and bashful smile. “Thank you.”
“I can take that bag for you,” Eric said. “And your coat.”
Kyle set the heavy bag he’d been carrying on the floor and removed his jacket. “Nice try, but the bag has a surprise in it.” He’d vowed to be playful, pleasant, and not overtly flirtatious tonight.
“I don’t normally like surprises, but I’ll admit I’m intrigued.” He held Kyle’s gaze as he took his coat and draped it over his arm. His eyes danced, even as the rest of his face stayed neutral. It was unfairly sexy.
“Hi,” Maria said. “Maria is here.”
That made Eric’s cheeks turn pink. “I’m sorry. Nice to see you again, Maria. Let me take your coat.”
Maria removed her coat, and Kyle stifled a laugh when Eric’s eyes widened at the sight of her outfit.
Maria had come to play tonight. Her breasts were pushed up to show maximum cleavage over the deep-V neckline of her black sweater dress.
She looked fantastic, with the dress hugging her curves and her flawless hair and makeup.
She may have only been five-foot-one in a house full of tall, athletic men, but Kyle fully expected her to stand out tonight.
For his own part, Kyle had kept it casual in a way that announced that he was not here to seduce anyone.
He wore his most comfortable faded jeans with a long-sleeve blue T-shirt, had a scarf bunched around his neck, and finished the look with his second-favorite glasses.
He was dressed to fade into the background and be a temptation to no one.
Kyle looked incredible. Eric’s heart had started skipping in his chest the moment he recognized the man behind the glasses. He loved this version of him: the sweet, artistic grad student. He was pretty into all versions of Kyle, if he was being honest, but he was so damn cute in those glasses.
And he’d brought Eric a surprise.
He watched as Kyle retrieved the mystery bag from the floor, unable to take his eyes off him. “Where’s the kitchen?” Kyle asked.
“I’ll show you.” He gestured for Kyle to follow him.
Maria, who looked like a bombshell tonight, had already headed to the basement, where most of the party guests were.
The kitchen was one story above them, so Eric led Kyle to the staircase.
When Eric turned on the lights in the stairway, Kyle gasped.
“These are stunning!” Eric had three paintings displayed on the wall leading up to the next floor. They were abstracts, all by the same artist from the same series.
“Aren’t they?” Eric agreed. “These were the first paintings Jeanette ever showed me. I knew I’d found my dealer after that.”
Kyle leaned against the opposite wall with his feet planted at different heights on two different steps. He was smiling at the art, his face lit up the same way Eric’s had been when he’d first seen the paintings himself. The way Eric’s face was probably lit up right now watching Kyle.
“I love the orange in this one,” Kyle said, pointing to the one Eric had hung in the middle.
“That one’s my favorite.” Eric realized they were both speaking in hushed tones. Everyone was either on the first or basement floors, so the floor above them was completely empty. The situation suddenly seemed very intimate.
Kyle turned to face him, and his face changed. It was like the light had suddenly gone out, the corners of his mouth turned down and his eyes looked almost scared. Eric shifted so he wasn’t leaning quite so close.
“So,” Kyle said. It wasn’t the husky whisper he’d been using a moment ago. This was bright and loud and jarring. “Where’s the kitchen?” Without waiting for an answer, he turned and headed up the rest of the stairs.
Of course. Eric’s attraction to Kyle was probably written all over his face. His old, divorced, boring face. Kyle couldn’t be blamed for being uncomfortable.
Be cool, Eric instructed himself. You are in control of your feelings, your body, and your libido. He took a centering breath, then followed Kyle up the stairs. Kyle had found the kitchen, which made sense since it took up most of this floor. He set the bag on one of the counters and looked around.
“You’re having a party and your kitchen is this spotless?”
“The food is catered. I ordered from a barbecue restaurant the guys like.”
“Uh huh. And what are you going to eat?”
“They have a kale salad I like.”
Kyle smiled but didn’t say anything about that as he began pulling bottles out of the bag and setting them on the counter. The last thing he pulled out was a cocktail shaker. “I wasn’t sure you’d own one yourself,” he said, holding it up.
“I do. But what is all this?”
“A birthday present. Just wait.”
Eric got a hit of that fizzing sensation in his blood when Kyle winked at him then. “Do you need ice?”
“Yes, please.” Kyle set everything up on the kitchen island like it was a bar, so Eric filled a bowl with ice and then sat himself at one of the stools on the other side.
“I have a friend who makes incredible fermented juices and sodas,” Kyle said as he cracked open a tall glass bottle full of vibrant, yellow liquid. “Here, smell this.” He held out the bottle and Eric sniffed. It was warm and spicy and familiar.
“Ginger?” He asked.
Kyle nodded. “It’s a fermented ginger and turmeric tonic. Delicious, healthy and the main component of your birthday mocktail.”
“Birthday mocktail?” Eric was touched. He’d planned on drinking soda water tonight.
“I figured you might like fermented juice. You seem, y’know...”
“Like a health nut?”
“Like someone who takes care of himself,” Kyle said with another wink.
Eric watched as he carefully measured out ingredients and added them to the shaker.
It was weird, having bartender Kyle and daytime Kyle blend into this single person in Eric’s kitchen.
Eric missed the short sleeves of the tight, white T-shirts that Kyle normally wore at work.
He’d be able to see the slight bulge of Kyle’s biceps right now as he shook the cocktail shaker.
Kyle held up a finger and went to Eric’s cupboards, opening doors until he found what he wanted. He came back to the island with a tall glass, then tossed some ice cubes into it. “I hope you like this. I made a test one for myself earlier today.”
“You didn’t have to go to so much trouble.”
“It’s not trouble. I love inventing cocktails, with or without alcohol. I’m trying to convince my boss, Gus, to introduce an artisanal cocktail menu at the Kingfisher. He’s pretty happy just serving beer and basic bitch mixed drinks, though.”
“What about the Scott Hunter cocktail?”
Kyle smiled as he strained the contents of the shaker into the glass. “That was my creation. I put it on the chalkboard one night and it’s been there ever since. Gus is terrible at marketing, but even he had to see the value of promoting the bar’s connection to New York’s favorite gay hockey star.”
“Did Kip know about the cocktail? Before you put it on the board, I mean?”
“I ran it by him. He was pretty thrilled about the idea. He suggested making it with blueberry juice. I think it’s an inside thing with those two.” He poured some of the fancy tonic on top, then slid the glass toward Eric. “Maybe we can call this one the Eric Bennett.”
Eric lifted the glass and admired the cloudy, yellow color of the liquid inside. He took a sip and tasted the sharp bite of the ginger, the warmth of the turmeric, and something sweet that balanced it all out. It was delicious.
“That’s incredible,” Eric said. “Is there something sweet in there, or is that the tonic?”
“It’s a pineapple syrup that I made. You like it?”
Eric took another sip, closing his eyes this time and savoring the perfect blend of flavors. He swallowed and said, “I really do. Thank you.”
Kyle beamed. “I can make a few more with the supplies I brought. I’ll keep you plied with them all night, if you like.”
“You don’t have to. But if one finds its way into my hand, I’ll definitely drink it.” He tilted his head toward the stairs. “There’s a bar downstairs. And a stocked beer fridge.”
Kyle followed him to the stairs. “Why do you have a bar and a beer fridge if you don’t drink?”
“Because all of my friends are hockey players.”
“Except the ones who are art dealers?”