Page 83 of Common Goal
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.
“I liked listening to you order them.” Eric’s eyes looked a shade darker than they’d been a moment ago. Kyle shifted in his seat.
“Yeah?”
“It was impressive. I speak very little Spanish.”
“Well, you know. I was young and had dreams of marrying Diego Luna.”
Eric studied him a moment with those sharp, espresso eyes, as if he wasn’t sure if Kyle was kidding or not. Then his lips curved up into that sexy hint of a smile he liked to torture Kyle with, and Kyle turned his attention to the last bite of his empanada. His safe, uncomplicated empanada.
“Your semester must be almost over,” Eric said.
Kyle swallowed his food. “Yeah. Next week.”
“You don’t seem stressed out about it.”
“It’s just one class. I have a term paper to hand in, but it’s pretty much done. Just fine tuning it.”
Eric was smiling at him again. “What?” Kyle asked.
“I’ll bet you’re a good writer.”
Kyle shrugged. “I’m all right. Fast, usually. I enjoy the research more than the writing.”
“I did too, when I was in school.”
“I think you’re the first Harvard grad I’ve met who saysschoolinstead ofHarvard,” Kyle teased.
Eric grabbed a napkin and wiped his fingers. “I went there for hockey, not because I’m a genius.”
Kyle huffed. “Right. And did all of your teammates at Harvard graduate?”
Eric hesitated, then admitted, “No.”
“And how many NHL players have Harvard degrees?”
Eric balled up his napkin and set it on his empty paper bag. “Currently?”
“Sure. Or, hell, how many haveeverhad Harvard degrees?”
Eric’s lips twisted, then he said, “Just me, currently, I think. And maybe... I don’t know. Three? Five? Ever? I’m really not sure.”
“So we’re agreed then? You’re extraordinary.”
Eric shook his head, but his eyes sparkled. “I like to read. That doesn’t make me extraordinary.”
Everything about Eric was extraordinary. Kyle was struck with an overwhelming sense of disbelief that the man eating empanadas with him was really Eric Bennett. How wasthisKyle’s real life?
They’d both finished eating, and Kyle found himself clamoring to come up with a reason to prolong their time together. “There’s a great café on the next block,” he said.
Eric gave him a warm smile that turned Kyle’s heart to mush. “I could go for a coffee.”
They decided to take the coffee to go and walk on the High Line. As they strolled along the trail, Kyle sipped his latte and hunched his shoulders against the cold. He’d been out of Vermont for too long, for the cold to be bothering him this much.
“So why aren’t you dating Jeanette?” Kyle asked. “She seems amazing.”
