Chapter Nine #2
Kyle opened the fridge and stared for probably a full minute.
It looked like a cold storage unit at a lab more than a fridge.
It was immaculate, for one thing. One shelf held an array of unmarked glass bottles containing various colors of very healthy-looking liquids.
Another shelf held jars full of what looked like some sort of oatmeal or wet grains.
There were eggs, yogurt, berries, and a few condiments, all neatly organized.
The crisper drawers appeared to be full of fresh produce.
Kyle thought of the fridge in the apartment he shared with Maria. It was crammed full of god knows what. Definitely cheese, beer, and leftover takeout. There might be a vegetable in there.
“This looks like a magazine advertisement for refrigerators,” Kyle said. “This is what I imagine Gwyneth Paltrow’s fridge looking like.”
“There are no jokes you can make about my diet that my teammates haven’t made a million times.”
“You’re so healthy. How do you do that?”
“It’s important. I can’t perform at my best if I don’t take care of my body. Especially at my age.”
“Right. Such an old man at forty-one.”
“In hockey years I’m ancient.”
“Well, you look all right to me.” Oops. He handed Eric a mug of black coffee, meeting his gaze and finding the same interest he’d seen last night. Kyle pulled his hand back quickly, not trusting himself not to brush Eric’s fingers with his own. Stupid sexy Eric.
Kyle took a sip of perfectly brewed coffee that was only slightly hindered by the oat milk, and tried to think of a way to throw a bucket of ice water on the conversation. He definitely needed to steer things away from sex.
But Eric ruined everything by saying, “I’ve been thinking about sex a lot lately.”
“Oh?” Kyle asked, a little squeakily. “Any reason?”
“Yeah. I’m, um. I’m...bisexual.” Eric blew out a breath after he said it. “I’ve never said that out loud before. Wow.”
Wait. What the fuck? “You’ve never told anyone that before?”
“No. Not yet, anyway. I want to. I just...haven’t. Yet.”
“But you’re telling me?”
Eric’s brow furrowed. “Should I not have?”
Oh god. Kyle was being a douche. “No! No, I’m glad you told me. I’m...flattered. That you felt you could trust me. You can, you know. Trust me. I won’t tell anyone.”
“I appreciate that. I want to tell everyone soon. But for now... I just wanted to tell someone. If that makes sense.”
“It does! Totally. And I’m honored. But it doesn’t really answer my question about why you’re thinking about sex a lot lately.”
“Right. That wasn’t what I meant.” Eric laughed uneasily. “It’s more that I’ve been thinking about maybe, you know, dating. Men, I mean. But I don’t really know how.”
“How? Like...you don’t know how to have sexy times with a man?”
“I don’t even know how to find a man to have sexy times with.”
Kyle grinned broadly. “I’m no expert—actually, that’s a lie. I totally am—but I think you could probably walk into a gay bar and walk out with, like, five very willing men. You’ve seen yourself, right?”
Eric shook his head, but he was smiling. “Do I whistle or something to announce my presence?”
“Yes. Or, if you can do one of those hog calls?”
“Oh god,” Eric said, laughing. “Yuck.”
“I mean, you asked how to pick up men. Don’t blame me if you don’t like how it works.”
“If,” Eric said, still laughing, “you think of any actually useful advice for the forty-one-year-old divorcé who is looking to meet a nice man, please let me know.”
“Are you looking for someone to date or just, like, trade blowjobs?”
Eric’s whole face turned pink, which was incredible to witness. “I don’t know. Date, I guess. Trading, um—that sounds so...transactional.”
“It is, I suppose. But it also kinda rules.”
“I don’t think I could do that. I’ve never been one for hookups. I like to know the person first.”
“That’s cool. You’re not alone there. I’m sure we could find you a nice man to have dinner with.”
“We?”
“Yeah. Sure. I want to help you.” This was a terrible idea, but Kyle was going all in. “We should go out together. See what your type is, and then take it from there.”
“Um.”
“It doesn’t have to be, like, a club. It could be a bar like the Kingfisher—but not the Kingfisher, please god—and we’ll get a drink and have a little look around.”
He watched Eric’s face carefully. Eric didn’t look repulsed by this idea, so that was a win. “When you say take it from there...”
Kyle held up his hands. “No pressure to do anything. I’m just suggesting a super casual outing where we do some low-key ogling. It’s an easy, safe first step.”
Eric seemed to consider this. “Okay.”
“Awesome!” Kyle was getting excited about this now. “This is great for me too, because I need to get myself out there.”
“So, when do you want to do this?”
Kyle drummed his fingers against his lips. “I’m working tomorrow night. I could do Sunday...”
“I’ve got a game on Sunday. I’m free Monday.”
“I’m working that night. Tuesday?”
“I’m in Boston on Tuesday. Then Toronto.”
Damn. This was not working out.
“Well,” Eric said slowly, “what about tonight?”
“Really?”
“Sure. No time like the present, right?”
“I know the perfect place. There’s a great bar called Fortune that is totally chill, but it’s busy on Fridays, so we’ll have lots to look at. I know the bar manager there and he’s a sweetheart. He’ll take care of us.”
“Okay.” Eric chewed his lip. “What should I wear?”
Kyle clapped his hands together. “I love you in a dress shirt, but you looked hot as hell last night in a T-shirt and jeans.”
Eric ducked his head adorably. “Hot as hell?”
“Yes. You should go that route. Dress down, look like you’re not trying too hard because you don’t have to. You’ll have your pick of the men.”
“I thought we were just going to look.”
“We are. I’m just kidding. Why don’t you come by my place? I live a couple blocks away from Fortune. Here, give me your phone.”
Eric retrieved his phone from where it had been charging on the kitchen counter and handed it to Kyle. Kyle entered his contact info, including his address, texted himself, then handed the phone back to Eric.
“I should get going,” Kyle said. “I have a pile of reading to do for school.”
“Right. Okay.”
Kyle went to the guest room and quickly changed back into his clothes from last night. “I’ll miss you most of all, perfect bed,” he said as he slipped out of the room.
Eric walked him to the front door, and they shared an oddly awkward moment where Kyle felt the urge to kiss him goodbye. He settled for a quick hug, which seemed normal enough. Kyle hugged everyone.
“I’ll see you tonight,” he said, wrapping his arms around Eric’s back.
“Tonight,” Eric agreed, encircling Kyle with his muscular arms. He smelled wonderful—a spicy, manly shampoo, maybe—and Kyle just barely stopped himself from nuzzling his neck. Then he felt the soft brush of Eric sighing against his ear, and Kyle suddenly found it very hard to let go.
The hug lasted a moment too long to be considered quick and friendly, but Kyle tried to pretend it hadn’t.
Eric looked like he was doing the same as he shoved one hand into his sweatpants pocket and held up the other hand to wave awkwardly.
Kyle nodded at him, stepping backward until he hit the door.
He turned quickly, opened the door, and practically jumped down the steps to safety.