Page 33 of Common Goal
Kyle looked at Eric’s hand, and then met Eric’s eyes. “Later when? It’s almost two in the morning.”
“Exactly. You should go home to bed.”
“I’m at work past two most nights,” Kyle said. “This is nothing. Let me help.”
Eric surrendered and stood there awkwardly, watching Kyle work with his head full of thoughts that he knew he shouldn’t say out loud. He chose one of the safest ones. “It was nice spending time with you tonight. I’m glad you came.”
Kyle didn’t look up from the sink. “I almost didn’t.”
“Why?”
He saw Kyle’s shoulders tense, and he thought he wouldn’t answer, but he said, “I think you know why.”
Eric did have some idea, though he was surprised Kyle was bringing it up. “Because of Kip. And Scott.”
“I’m pretty fucking obvious, I know. And pathetic.” He set the last of the bottles on the counter and turned, bracing himself with both hands on the edge of the sink behind his back. “Anyway. I need to get over it. I mean, Iamgetting over it.”
“I’m sorry.”
Kyle laughed without any humor. “You know what the most ridiculous part is? Kip was supposed to be the end of me having crushes on inappropriate men. He was supposed to be agood choice.”
“Inappropriate men?”
He shook his head. “I shouldn’t be talking about this with you. Or anyone. It’s fine. Forget I said anything.”
“No, I—” Eric’s hand found itself back on Kyle’s arm. “I want to listen. If you want to talk.”
“I’m way too sober for that.”
Eric studied his face. “Youaresober, aren’t you? You didn’t drink tonight?”
Kyle shrugged. “Didn’t feel like it.”
The possibility that Kyle had abstained because Eric didn’t drink warmed him. But maybe Kyle truly hadn’t felt like it and Eric shouldn’t read any more into it. “Why don’t I get us both some water, and we can sit in the living room for a bit?”
“Okay.”
A few minutes later, Kyle was wedged into the corner of a sectional sofa, and Eric was sitting a safe, platonic distance away. Kyle took a sip of his water and said, “So what do you want to know?”
There were a lot of careful, easy questions Eric could have asked. Ones that wouldn’t have been completely selfish. But what he asked was, “Is Kip not the type of man you’re normally attracted to?”
Kyle’s eyebrows raised over the frames of his glasses, and his lips quirked up. “No. Not usually. I mean, I don’t have a strict type, but...”
Eric shifted to the edge of his sofa cushion. “But?”
“I have a bit of a weakness for...older men.”
He swallowed. “How much older?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe forty. Or”—Kyle smiled mischievously at him—“forty-one.”
Eric’s dick arrived to the party at that moment. Late, but very keen to celebrate his birthday. He knew he should reply to Kyle, but his head had gone fuzzy.
Kyle waved a hand. “Don’t take me too seriously when I flirt. It’s basically a defense mechanism for me.”
“Defense,” Eric repeated thickly. “Right.” He shook away some of the haze of lust. “Of course. I know you’re not serious.”
“Good. But let me know if I ever make you uncomfortable, please. I really don’t want to do that.”
