Chapter Fifteen
As they entered the gallery together, Eric reminded himself for the hundredth time that this wasn’t a date.
“Hello?” Eric called out into the empty room. He heard the clacking of stiletto heels against the concrete floor, and then Jeanette appeared from the back room.
“Eric!” She embraced him and kissed his cheek, then turned to Kyle. “And who is this?”
“Jeanette, this is my friend Kyle. He’s studying art history at Columbia.” He hoped he hadn’t tripped over the word friend. Not that it was a lie. “Kyle, this is Jeanette Saint-Georges, my friend and the owner of this gallery.”
“I’ve walked by so many times and never been in,” Kyle said, shaking her hand. “It’s a beautiful space.”
“Thank you, and it’s lovely to meet you.
I don’t think Eric has ever brought a friend here before.
” She shot Eric a look that held a question he had no intention of answering.
God, was he really so transparent? He’d never said anything to her that would suggest he was attracted to men.
Did she just know? Would anyone he introduced Kyle to suspect that Eric was sleeping with him?
He averted her gaze and asked, “How was the opening?”
“Wonderful. We sold everything.”
“I’m not surprised.”
“Neither am I. But everyone was jealous of you. Your piece was the showstopper.”
“I can’t wait to see it,” Kyle said. “Eric has great taste.”
Jeanette eyed him appraisingly, as if she was considering exhibiting Kyle in her next show. “He certainly does have an eye for beauty.”
Heat raced up the back of Eric’s neck. She definitely suspected. Eric felt suddenly ridiculous, like he was showing off the prize of a man he was having sex with, rather than bringing a friend to his favorite gallery.
A much younger friend.
Christ, what was Eric doing?
Jeanette led them to the second room, and Eric walked behind both of them, trying to sort out his feelings. Trying to get a grip.
He thought he might be under control right up until the moment when Kyle spotted the painting Eric had bought. Kyle’s face lit up, and Eric’s heart fluttered traitorously.
“Oh wow,” Kyle said in a reverent whisper. “It’s stunning.”
“Yes,” Eric said quietly. As Kyle examined the painting, Eric examined Kyle. His long fingers were curled in front of his plush lips in contemplation, and his hip was jutting slightly to one side. Why was everything about him so fascinating?
His mind wandered back to Sunday night, when those fingers had been curled around Eric’s cock.
Had been holding that wonderful toy steady while Eric fucked it.
He remembered those same plush lips suckling the head of his cock, brushing soft kisses over his skin.
Those same hips writhing in his lap as Kyle climaxed while Eric held him close.
Then he noticed that Jeanette and Kyle were both looking at him, and it was clear by their expressions that they were waiting for him to respond to something. “Pardon?”
“I asked Kyle if you’ve shown him any of your photography.”
“I said just one piece, but I’d love to see more,” Kyle said.
“Oh.” Eric felt uncomfortable having his hobby discussed as if he were a great talent. Especially in the presence of such exquisite actual art. “It’s more of the same. I’m a tourist with a camera. Sometimes I get lucky.”
“Luck has nothing to do with it,” Jeanette scoffed.
“Well,” Eric said slowly, “if I have any talent at all, it’s patience. I suppose that’s useful, when it comes to photography.”
“Patience and attention to detail,” Jeanette said. She nudged Kyle. “This one doesn’t miss a thing, you know.”
Kyle didn’t say anything, but he held Eric’s gaze while his lips curved into a slow, sexy smile. Eric quickly turned his attention to the painting, because it was safer territory. After that smile, however, the colors on the canvas seemed drab.
Kyle moved to stand right next to Eric, and they both studied the painting in silence. After a minute, Eric turned and was surprised to see that Jeanette had left at some point.
“Where are you going to hang it?” Kyle asked. His voice was hushed even though they were alone.
“My living room. I want to rearrange the space so this will be the focal point.”
“You’re going to spoil it rotten.”
“It deserves it.”
Kyle laughed quietly. “Thank you for showing it to me.”
Eric wanted to show him so much. Everything. He wanted to see his face light up in every gallery in the world. Every museum. Every historic site and breathtaking view. “I’m glad you came. You should look at the rest.”
They spent another twenty minutes or so examining the art and discussing each piece. Finally Kyle grinned at him and said, “Is it empanada time?”
“Definitely.”
They thanked Jeanette and she hugged both of them before they left. When they were outside, Kyle said, “That was nice.”
“The gallery?”
“Yes, but... I meant the overall experience of going to a gallery with you.”
Eric’s heart flipped. “I liked it too. I mean, I like spending time with you.”
Kyle smiled at him, and Eric considered kissing him. But Kyle stepped back and said, “Empanadas! Let’s go.”
Kyle smelled the delicious aroma of spiced meat and fresh-baked dough before he even opened the door of the Córdoba Bakery.
He stepped into the welcome warmth of the cramped, brightly colored Argentinian bakery, holding the door for Eric.
As Eric brushed past him, Kyle reminded himself, again, that this wasn’t a date.
Valentina, who owned the bakery with her husband, greeted Kyle in Spanish, and they made small talk for a minute in her native tongue.
He hadn’t been kidding when he’d told Eric he came here all the time.
He ordered his usual—four spicy beef empanadas; two to eat now, one to give to Maria, and one for later.
He assumed he’d be heading home after this.
He and Eric hadn’t made plans to do...other stuff.
And if Maria heard he went here and didn’t bring her back an empanada, she would be furious.
“Siempre tan predecible,” Valentina teased him. “Es uno para Maria?”
“Si tiene suerte.”
She glanced at Eric over his shoulder, seemingly recognizing him, and switched to English. “Grilled vegetable, right?”
“Right,” Eric confirmed. A grilled vegetable empanada sounded like a waste of dough to Kyle, but it was probably the least healthy thing that Eric allowed himself to eat.
“Do you know each other?” Valentina asked. “I see you both all the time, but not together.”
“We’re friends,” Kyle said, throwing Eric a grin over his shoulder.
Valentina handed Kyle a paper bag that was stuffed with piping-hot empanadas. As always, she had “secretly” added two free dessert empanadas to his order. Kyle, as always, was pretty happy about it. Eric got his order, and they moved out of the way for the next customer. Córdoba was a popular spot.
Kyle gestured to a miraculously empty table. “Should we sit?”
Eric nodded. “Yeah, okay.”
He seemed uncharacteristically nervous. Kyle had noticed it at the gallery as well. Was it because Jeanette had been subtly teasing him about Kyle? Was Eric embarrassed to be seen with him? Stressed out about people suspecting?
Kyle wanted to tell him not to worry about any of that, but a cramped bakery wasn’t the place to discuss it. Especially not since four more customers had just walked in, filling most of the middle of the shop.
He wasn’t sure what exactly Eric wanted.
Their last time together had been hot as fuck, and Kyle was pretty sure they’d both thought so.
But that wasn’t what had been making Kyle’s head spin for days.
It was how hard it had been for Kyle to leave that night.
How he’d been dying to stay in Eric’s bed, not for sex, but because he wanted to be held by him.
He wanted to fall asleep in his arms and wake up to his tender kisses.
He wanted to talk as they ate breakfast and planned their day together.
And all of that was exactly why Kyle should be putting some distance between himself and Eric.
He was in danger of falling for this man, and that was a mistake Kyle wasn’t willing to make.
For one thing, Eric didn’t seem quite ready to be in a public relationship with a man.
For another, he clearly wasn’t comfortable with the age gap between them.
He probably managed to convince himself that it wasn’t a big deal when they were in Eric’s bed, or when they were visiting a gallery together, but Kyle knew how fragile it was.
Eric could decide at any time that Kyle was too young, too male, too.
..ridiculous for Eric to be in a relationship of any kind with.
Kyle would rather not have his heart invested when that happened.
He watched Eric pull one of the empanadas out of his paper bag and take a bite. He closed his eyes and sighed happily around his mouthful of grilled vegetables. He had flakes of pastry clinging to his lips that Kyle couldn’t look away from.
Eric swallowed and said, “God, that’s good.” The tip of his tongue darted out to remove the crumbs from his lips.
“Yeah,” Kyle agreed, even though he hadn’t even taken his empanada out of the bag yet.
“Are you going to eat?” Eric asked before taking a second bite. Kyle snapped out of it and reached into his own paper bag. He was, in fact, starving, but he was apprehensive about digging into his lunch in front of Eric. It seemed rude to cram his mouth full of beef in front of a vegetarian.
“I don’t mind,” Eric said, as if reading his mind. “Eat. Please.”
Kyle obeyed, sinking his teeth into the warm, buttery crust and then into the spicy, cheesy deliciousness within. He groaned a little more orgasmically than he’d meant to, but fuck, those empanadas were good.
He grabbed a napkin from the dispenser on the table and dabbed delicately at his lips. “I love these empanadas,” Kyle said sheepishly.