Chapter Six
Going to the gym with Aram was like going to karaoke night with Jennifer Hudson. Kyle felt absolutely outclassed and ridiculous every time he agreed to work out with his Atlas-like co-worker. Aram was maybe three inches taller than Kyle, but he had to have at least thirty or forty extra pounds of muscle on him. His arms were like balloon arches.
Kyle watched as Aram added more weight to the barbell before stepping into the rack. “Why don’t we just go outside and you can lift a bus?” Kyle suggested. “It would be free.”
“Because there are less hot boys in tank tops out there,” Aram said.
Kyle positioned himself near Aram, ostensibly to spot him as he did his squats, but if Aram actually did lose control of the barbell, it would go right through Kyle, the floor, and probably end up near the center of the earth.
Aram was definitely one of the hottest boys in a tank top at the gym. Tall, muscular, and arrestingly handsome with his long, dark hair and trim beard, rich brown eyes, and a killer smile. It was kind of shocking that he and Kyle had never hooked up, but Kyle figured if it hadn’t happened by now, it wasn’t going to. And despite Aram’s good looks, Kyle didn’t think of him that way.
Kyle’s gaze had mostly been drifting toward one of the treadmills where an older, distinguished-looking man had been running for the past half hour.
His hair was silver, but he was probably only in his forties. He looked like an executive; a man who was used to getting what he wanted. Kyle allowed himself a moment to fantasize about having that man underneath him,
begging for Kyle’s cock.
Oof. Anyway.
Aram finished his set and led Kyle to some mats where they could do some stretching before hitting the locker room.
“Is Kip really going to keep working at the Kingfisher?” Aram asked as he settled himself on his back. “It’s not like he needs the money now that he’s locking Scott down.”
Kyle lay down beside him, and they both turned toward each other to do identical thoracic rotation stretches. “I don’t know,” Kyle said honestly.
“Maybe not.”
“If I was marrying a millionaire I sure as fuck wouldn’t be working there anymore,” Aram said.
“He’s proud, y’know? He doesn’t want to be a kept man.”
“God, I do. I would be very happy spending my husband’s money for a living, I think.”
Kyle shook his head. He had a taste of what it was like to spend money that wasn’t his own. His parents had given him a lot of money over the years—money he knew they could easily afford, but still. He definitely appreciated how lucky he was, but he couldn’t be proud of it either. In a lot of ways, it made him feel like he’d never truly grown up.
“Someday your prince will come, Aram.”
“Well, he can take his time,” Aram said with a grin. “I’m having fun enjoying all the city has to offer for now.”
As if on cue, a young, fit man with a full sleeve of tattoos strolled by their mats, causing Aram to sit up and smile at him.
“Maybe he’s a millionaire,” Kyle teased.
“I should probably go find out.” Aram wrapped one sweaty, beefy arm around Kyle’s shoulders and squeezed. “See you later, all right?”
“Good luck.” Kyle headed to the fountain to refill his water bottle. As he walked he pulled his phone out of his pocket. There was a text from Kip.
Kip: Eric Bennett is having a party on Thursday. You should come.
Oh, absolutely the fuck not. The last thing Kyle needed to be doing was going to a party hosted by the unavailable man he’d been lusting after as the guest of the unavailable man he’d been low-key in love with for two years.
That sounded like torture.
Kyle: I’m busy.
Kip: Doing what? I know you’re not working.
Kyle frowned at his phone. What excuse would work? Not that he even owed Kip one.
Kyle: I have a date.
Well, that was a giant lie. But it felt good. Which was probably not healthy.
Kip: OMG really?! That’s awesome!
Kip: Impress him by bringing him to an NHL player’s house party!
Kyle shoved his phone back in his pocket.
By the time Kyle returned home, there were four more texts from Kip.
Kip: Who is your date with? Do I know him?
Kip: Did you meet him at work?
Kip: Maybe if the date doesn’t go well you can bail and come to the party?
Kip: Maria is going. I think Eric would really like you to go too.
Kyle sighed and wrote back: Maybe next time.
One minute later, his phone rang.
“There isn’t going to be a next time,” Kip said. “Do you know how often Eric throws a party? It’s basically never happened before. That’s what Scott said, anyway.”
“Then I guess I’ll have to miss the event of the century. Sorry.”
“He has an amazing art collection. You should see it. Scott and I were at his new house like a month ago. Holy shit, Kyle. His house is incredible.
It’s so...fancy. But not, like, gross? It’s very minimal and beautiful. It really suits his personality. I only went to his old house once, and it was, like, a mansion on Long Island. It was so wrong for him.” He paused, probably because he needed oxygen, then said, “I guess his wife was wrong for him
too.”
“His wife?”
“Yeah. They split up a year or so ago. He’s divorced now. That’s why I think this party is so important. He’s probably lonely.”
Eric was divorced. Huh. Well, that was something.
“And,” Kip continued, “I’m not kidding about him wanting you there. I think he really likes you. You guys have some things in common.”
“Right.” Eric was divorced.
“I know he’s, like, old. But he mostly hangs out with twenty-something- year-old hockey players. He’s cool.”
“He’s divorced?” Kyle asked, to make sure.
“Totally. It wasn’t even messy. I think they just grew apart. But Eric is a great guy. Not the life of the party, but a good person for sure.”
“He still wears his wedding ring.”
“Huh? He does?”
“Yes. He was wearing it at the bar the other night. And at your engagement party.”
“Really? That’s weird. Maybe Scott knows why.”
“Don’t ask him.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s none of my business.” Kyle sighed. “Why am I even invited to this? Is it going to be all hockey players?”
“No! I mean...mostly, yeah. But Maria is going!”
“So she can look at Matti Jalo.”
“Look, we’re all going to be looking at Matti Jalo. Let’s get real here.”
“I’m not because I’m not going.”
“Oh right. So who’s your date with?”
“Just a guy. You don’t know him. Whatever. He probably won’t even show up.”
There was silence, and then Kip said, “You don’t have a date, do you?”
“Of course I do. Why is that so hard to believe? I’m a catch.”
Kip laughed. “I know. Honestly, I hope you do have a date. And that it’s
with the most amazing man on earth.”
“Thanks.”
“But if you don’t have a date...”
“God, would you stop? Put Scott on the phone. I’d rather talk to him.”
“I can’t. He’s in St. Louis.”
“Oh.”
“Hey, do you want to come over? I’m super bored and totally alone and
we could watch a movie or something.”
Holy shit no.
“Aw, I can’t. Sorry.”
“Another date?”
“Yeah. I’m on his dick right now, actually. So I should probably go.”
“That’s awkward,” Kip agreed. “Especially since we were just talking about your next date.”
Kyle snorted, then pretended to whisper to his nonexistent sex partner, “Sorry if I was being rude earlier.” Then he pitched his voice comically low and said, “I didn’t even notice you were on the phone, baby, because you’re so good at riding me.”
Kip howled. “Why is his voice so much deeper than yours?”
Kyle cracked up too, then pulled himself together enough to say, in the same deep voice, “Because I’m a fucking beast.”
“He sounds like Groot!” After that, neither of them could speak for a full minute. In the middle of that minute, Maria returned home.
“Jesus, what’s so funny?” she asked.
“Is that Maria?” Kip asked, still laughing. “Holy shit, has she been in
your bedroom this whole time?”
“Hey, I put on a great show.”
“I’ll bet you do.” Kip was joking, but his words made Kyle’s dick twitch.
“Give the phone to Maria. I want to talk to her.”
“No. You’re just going to tell her to convince me to go to the party.”
“Eric’s party?” Maria asked as she pulled her boots off. “You’re totally
going.”
“Tell her about your date,” Kip said.
“No.”
“Come on. I want to hear you tell Maria to her face that you have an actual for real date on Thursday night.”
“Bye, Kip.”
Kip was still laughing when Kyle ended the call. He turned to Maria, who was holding up her phone.
“Text from Kip,” she said. “He says to ask you why you can’t go to the party.”
Kyle gave an exaggerated sigh. “I told him I have a date. I don’t,” he clarified before Maria could start asking questions. “I just sort of blurted it out. I was probably trying to make him jealous, which is so sad I’m going to eat a whole bag of frozen perogies right now.” He headed for the kitchen, and Maria followed him.
“First of all,” she said, “you’re only going to eat half of those perogies because I’m starving. Secondly, why don’t you want to go to the party?”
“I don’t know. Because I don’t want to watch Kip make heart eyes at his fiancé. And I don’t want to be around Eric.”
“Why not? Wait. Is he actively trying to cheat on his wife with you?
What a fucking scumbag. I’ll fucking—”
“He’s not. Married, I mean. Or actively trying to do anything with me.
But... I know myself, and if I have a few drinks and he says anything even slightly flirtatious to me I will do something regrettable.”
“Oh come on. You’re not that easy.”
“With men like that? Oh yes I am.”
“What’s so bad about liking older men? I know you had a bad
experience.”
“Or three.”
“Yeah, but you know the one I mean. That guy in Vermont was a fucking trash bag. It doesn’t mean it’s wrong to be attracted to older men. I like tall men, and I’ve been with four of them who fucking sucked. Doesn’t mean I’m not gonna keep trying to find that perfect, tall, probably Finnish prince who may or may not play for the New York Admirals.”
Kyle smiled at that. “Ian was a trash bag, but I made my own choices.
And those choices are always bad when it comes to a certain type of man.”
Maria gave him a hard look. “Kyle. You were eighteen. Cut yourself some slack.”
“Why? No one else did.” Fuck, he shouldn’t have said that. He put on a smile that probably didn’t look any more real than it felt. “Anyway. It all worked out for the best, right? We get this sweet, free Manhattan apartment and I get to live my best gay life away from the gossip mill of Shaw, Vermont.”
Maria had heard the story shortly after she’d moved in with him. During Kyle’s senior year of high school, his dad had gotten him a job in the offices of the Shaw Area Business and Tourism Association. The director of the association, Ian, was in his midthirties at the time, married with two kids, and was a very well-liked and respected member of the community. He was also, in virginal teenage Kyle’s eyes, extremely hot.
Kyle had been working with him for about a month when Ian had asked him to stay late and help him brainstorm new festival ideas. He’d kept
moving his chair closer to Kyle’s, and he’d kept finding innocent ways to touch him. And then the touches had turned less innocent.
Kyle had known it was wrong, but he’d never had any kind of sex with anyone, and he’d been too horny and too flattered to care. He’d allowed their secret relationship to continue into the summer because he’d believed everything Ian told him: that he was unhappy in his marriage. That he was in love with Kyle. That he would leave his family for him. That it would be the best for everyone because Ian was living a lie.
Kyle, young and naive as he was, believed that this was a fairytale romance. That their love was so strong it would endure anything. The secrecy only made their relationship seem more important, like no one else got to know because no one else would understand how perfect they were together. Ian had let him believe that Kyle was the one in control. That Ian was helpless around him, and Kyle had loved that. He’d wanted to be irresistible. He’d wanted to be Helen of Troy, and have important men fall over themselves to win his favor.
It had all come crumbling down when Ian’s wife had found out. She had hired a private investigator, because of course she had suspected; being the director of the business association of a tiny town was not a job that demanded a lot of late nights. The investigator had set up a hidden camera in Ian’s office, and Kyle and Ian had given it plenty to record.
Ian had been confronted with the most explicit stills from the recordings, along with the news that his wife had left with the kids. The gossip spread around town like wildfire. It was the most interesting thing to happen in Shaw in forever: a gay affair. With a teenager.
And that was how Kyle had been outed as gay. To the town, to his friends, and, most devastatingly, to his family.
His parents had assured him repeatedly that they had no problem with him being gay. But he had embarrassed them by causing a scandal, and they’d felt it was best that he leave town. Kyle had always been an exceptional student, and he had been accepted to a few prestigious universities. He decided to go to Columbia because New York City seemed like the quintessential place to reinvent yourself, or to just get swallowed up. Both sounded good to Kyle at the time. His parents found and paid for an apartment in Chelsea, and Kyle found a part-time job as a server at a Chelsea restaurant to cover his expenses. He never saw or heard from Ian
again, and he only saw his parents the rare times they visited him in New York.
“I want to fuck that guy up so bad,” Maria said, bringing Kyle back to the present. “He should be in jail for what he did to you.”
“I was legal,” Kyle argued, for some reason.
“Barely. I mean there should be a law against that kind of...manipulation, y’know? Plus he was your boss. That’s not okay.”
“I know.”
She hugged him suddenly, which was an unusual gesture from Maria.
“You deserved better.”
Kyle hugged her back. “I just think,” he said carefully, “that heartache and temptation are a dangerous mix. If I go to that party I know what might happen.”
Maria pulled back to look at him. “What exactly is the worst that can happen, though? If Eric isn’t interested in you, you’re not going to, like, trick him into making out with you.”
“I’m more worried about the scenario where he is interested in me.”
She stood back and started counting on her fingers. “He isn’t married.
He’s a sweetheart by all accounts. And he’s bonkers hot. I don’t see how making a move on him would be bad in your worst-case scenario.”
“Because it’s always great at first with these guys. Then they get scared or whatever and flee. And then I’m scooping up the pieces of my heart
again. No thanks.”
“Well, if you change your mind...”
“I’m not changing my mind,” Kyle said firmly. “For once in my life I’m going to make a good decision.”