Chapter Nine
Kyle woke up late.
He stretched languidly, sliding his limbs inside the butter-soft layers of Eric’s expensive bedding.
The sheets felt so wonderful he had left the pajamas Eric had brought him on the chair and slept in his underwear.
The luxurious caress of the fabric had done nothing to quell Kyle’s raging arousal, but he’d resisted jerking off last night.
It seemed wrong to do that in Eric’s house. Kyle didn’t want to be rude.
But now his dick was screaming for attention. Kyle did his best to ignore it, flipping to his stomach and burying his face in a perfectly soft pillow.
Eric had been ogling him last night, Kyle was sure of it. He’d been ogled quite a lot in his life, and the heat in Eric’s eyes when he’d taken in Kyle’s bare chest had been unmistakable. And the way he’d hurried out of the room, flustered and adorable.
Eric wanted him.
But that didn’t mean Eric was going to do anything about it. And it didn’t mean Kyle should want him to do anything about it. Eric, Kyle reminded himself, was off limits.
His dark eyes were off limits. His muscular forearms and broad chest were off limits. His silver-flecked beard and gorgeous thick hair were off limits.
Kyle wasn’t sure how long he’d been humping the mattress, but he needed to stop. He didn’t even see a box of tissues in the room.
He forced himself to leave the bed, adjusting his erection in his briefs and hoping it would fade soon. He normally indulged in a leisurely jerk-off session when he woke up, so his dick was confused and angry about his refusal to acknowledge it today.
He put his glasses on and ran a hand through his hair.
He pulled on the pajama pants and T-shirt Eric had given him—both exquisitely soft—grabbed the toothbrush and toothpaste, quietly opened the bedroom door and slipped into the hallway to the bathroom.
He wasn’t sure if Eric would be awake yet.
He seemed like he’d be an early riser, but it had been a very late night.
Kyle got freshened up in the bathroom and considered taking a shower. His dick was very into that idea, but Kyle wasn’t going let that idiot call the shots. He wasn’t sure where Eric kept the towels, or if it would be presumptuous to use the shower.
The house was very quiet. Kyle wandered into the kitchen, hoping to find the coffee Eric had promised, but found it empty. The bottles Kyle had rinsed last night had been put away somewhere, so Eric must be awake.
Kyle stood at the bottom of the stairs that led to the top two floors, but he couldn’t see anything past the point where they turned a corner.
He slowly ascended the stairs, hoping Eric would make his presence known before Kyle looked too much like a stalker.
When the room at the top came into view, his jaw dropped.
The whole floor seemed to be a studio space.
The front wall was entirely windows, and the other walls were white, reflecting the midday sun.
The floor was a light-colored wood, and the room was sparsely decorated with lush green plants and quiet pieces of art.
It was a gorgeous space, but the most stunning feature was the man in the middle of the room balancing, shirtless, on his elbows with his legs stretched high above his head in a perfectly straight line.
Kyle stared for a moment at the tension in Eric’s muscular forearms and biceps. At the elegant lines of his bare feet. At the defined muscles of his back. He was physical perfection.
“Holy shit,” Kyle whispered, which made Eric open his eyes. His brow furrowed when he saw Kyle, then he calmly bent his knees, tucking his legs into his body before slowly shifting to a kneeling position on the mat.
“Good morning,” Eric said.
“Is it still morning?”
“Barely.” Eric stood and sauntered over to Kyle, his chest glistening with sweat. He had dark hair covering his pecs, which was exactly what Kyle had pictured. When he’d allowed himself to picture. Which was more often than he should have allowed it.
“Sorry to interrupt.”
“It’s okay. Are you hungry?”
“Always.”
“Let me grab my shirt.”
“Is that necessary?” Kyle groaned at himself. “Sorry.”
Eric chuckled as he snatched his shirt off the floor. “You didn’t even last five minutes.”
“Well, can you blame me?” Kyle waved his hands in the direction of Eric’s bare chest. “I had no warning at all.”
“I’ll be sure to text you before I remove my shirt in the future.”
They both kind of froze after Eric said that. Then Kyle laughed, mostly to break the tension. “I would appreciate that.”
“I’ll make some coffee. What do you like to eat in the mornings?” Eric headed down the stairs and Kyle followed.
“Lucky Charms. Coco Puffs. That sort of thing.”
Eric frowned. “Oh, uh. I don’t really—”
“I’m kidding. I know we don’t know each other well, but I am pretty sure you don’t eat a lot of garbage sugar cereal.”
“No.” His smile was sweet and a little embarrassed. “I don’t.”
“Did you eat already? You don’t have to feed me.”
“I haven’t eaten. I like to work out first. I’m hungry.” They reached the kitchen and Eric got started on the coffee. Kyle, unsure of what to do, sat himself on one of the stools at the island.
“Did you sleep well?” Eric asked.
“Like the dead. You?”
“Same. I don’t usually stay up so late. I was exhausted. Do you like Greek yogurt?”
“Sure.”
“I have berries and granola. And honey.”
“Fancy.”
The coffeemaker gurgled as Kyle watched Eric assemble two bowls of yogurt with fresh berries and what looked to be locally made granola sprinkled on top.
“Thanks again for your help last night,” Eric said. With a shy smile he added, “Do you really think everyone had a good time?”
“Definitely. They love you, I can tell.”
“They respect me,” Eric clarified, setting a beautifully put together bowl in front of Kyle.
“Scott loves you. And Carter.”
Eric swallowed a spoonful of yogurt with a thoughtful expression on his face.
“You know, for years I was basically a loner on the team. Being a goalie creates a natural separation between you and the rest of the team anyway, but because I don’t drink and I’m not the most social guy.
..well. I never really felt like part of the gang. ”
“What changed?”
Eric smiled. “Scott Hunter joined the team.”
Kyle ignored the way his heart clenched like it was in a vise. “Oh yeah?”
“Scotty’s not the life of the party either, but he has this quality that I have always envied. He earns the respect of everyone around him instantly. Right from his rookie season. There was no question he was going to be team captain someday.”
“Right.”
“The other guys are always seeking his approval. They want him to like them. They want his respect. And Scott probably noticed that I wasn’t being invited out after the games, and that no one was really talking to me in the locker room. So he made a point of talking to me. Of inviting me out.”
Kyle sighed. “He really is perfect, isn’t he?”
“I’m afraid so. Sorry.”
Kyle smiled to himself as he took a bite of yogurt and blackberries. It was kind of nice to be talking about this with someone other than Maria. “I need to get out there. Actually go on some dates.”
“That makes two of us.”
“Oh yeah?” Kyle perked up. Here was an interesting conversation topic. “You haven’t been dating since... I mean, since...”
“My divorce?” Eric offered helpfully. “Nope. Not a single date. Or hookup, or whatever people are calling it now.”
“Wait. You haven’t had sex since, um...”
“My wife left me? No.”
Kyle knew it was none of his business, but he couldn’t help himself. “And that was...”
“Over a year ago.”
“Wow. That’s, um...are you okay?”
Eric chuckled. “I’m okay.”
“How are you not, like, vibrating with pent-up arousal?”
Eric stared at him with that sexy bemused smile on his face. “Vibrating with pent-up arousal?”
“Yeah! I’d be... I mean, it’s been a couple of weeks for me and I basically want to fuck this yogurt.”
“Please don’t. And I’ve never had an overwhelming need to...”
“Bone down all day every day?”
“Right. That.”
Kyle took another bite of yogurt to prove he was kidding about wanting to fuck it. “You don’t like sex?”
“I do. Sometimes. Sometimes I like it a lot. It just doesn’t...consume me. Usually.”
Kyle lifted his brow. “Usually?”
“I can be...distracted. By sexual thoughts. Sometimes.” God, Eric was blushing a little and Kyle was in heaven.
“Maybe next time you’re distracted by sexual thoughts about someone you should see if they’re interested.”
Eric froze, spoon halfway to his mouth. Kyle mentally kicked himself.
“Is the coffee ready?” Kyle asked as he practically leaped off his seat to put some distance between himself and Eric.
“Yes. I think. Probably,” Eric stammered, lurched forward in the direction of the coffee maker, then stopped when he realized that’s where Kyle was headed. “You can, um. Check.”
“It looks done. The light is—”
“Green. Yes. The green light means done.”
“Okay.” Kyle almost laughed at how ridiculous they both sounded. “How do you take it? Black, right? Just a guess.”
“Black. Yes.”
Kyle promised himself to stop being flirty with poor Eric. It wasn’t doing either of them any good. He found two clear glass coffee mugs—all of Eric’s drinkware seemed to be clear glass—and filled them both with coffee. “Another guess: you don’t have cream.”
“I have oat milk.”
“Holy hell. All right. Where’s the oat milk?”
“In the fridge. It’s an unmarked glass bottle, but it’s the only thing that looks like milk. It’s beside the green juice.”