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.”
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.