Page 113 of Common Goal

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Chapter Twenty-Two

“What do you think?”

Eric cringed inwardly at his own impatience, but waiting and watching while Scott read the statement Eric had written to announce his retirement was torture. It was the day of their first game after the All-Star break, and Eric had decided to make his retirement official, starting with his teammates tonight.

“It’s good.” Scott smiled sadly as he handed Eric’s phone back to him across the restaurant table. “So you’re really doing this?”

“I’m really doing it. Tomorrow morning that gets posted on the Admirals website and social media accounts. I’ll tell the team tonight after the game.”

Scott cheeks puffed as he blew out a breath. “Are you going to have your phone turned off all day tomorrow?”

“Definitely.”

“Do you have anything planned to distract you?”

Eric poked at his vegan paella. “No.”

“I’d offer to hang out with you tomorrow,” Scott said, “but Kip and I are meeting with our wedding planner.”

“I’ll be fine. Maybe I’ll watch that show Carter keeps telling me to watch.”

“You mean the one that his girlfriend is the star of?”

Oh. “Uh, yeah. I guess so.”

“Maybe retirement will give you a chance to finally catch up on pop culture, Benny.”

“Sounds exhausting.”

“Is there no one...else...you might like to spend tomorrow with?” Scott asked casually.

“Are you asking if I’m seeing someone?”

“Well...”

Eric wished he could say yes. The time he’d spent with Kyle over the past few weeks had been incredible, but he always felt guilty afterwards. He had no right to be taking up so much of Kyle’s time, and he was starting to worry that he was leading Kyle on. Sometimes—okay, alotof times—Eric could envision a future where he and Kyle were a real couple. But it wasn’t a fair thing for him to want. As much as Kyle didn’t seem to think their age difference mattered, Eric knew better. Kyle was too fun—too full of life—to be attached to an old goalie who very likely would need reconstructive shoulder surgery soon. Who would have the body of a man much older than Eric even was. The fifteen-year difference between them would feel like forty.

“No. No one,” he told Scott now.

“What about—?”

“No.” Eric set his fork down. As much as he knew the situation was hopeless, he’d been desperate to talk to someone about this for weeks, and here was his chance. “Kyle and I...we’ve been...doing stuff.”

Scott’s eyebrows shot up. “Stuff?”

“Hooking up. That sort of thing. It’s casual, but... I like him. A lot.”

“Oh. Wow. Okay.” Scott’s cheeks pinked the way they always did when a conversation turned to sex.

“I need to put a stop to it. The sex part, I mean. I don’t think I’m the sort of person who can do that without it meaning more. I wouldn’t have slept with him in the first place if I hadn’t had deeper feelings for him.” The words rushed out of him, now that he’d removed the barrier. “It’s not fair of me to pretend these hookups don’t mean anything to me when they mean a lot.”

There was silence, and the Scott said, “Wow. You’ve been really going through something, haven’t you? Jeez, I had no idea.”

“I know. And I can handle it myself, mostly, but...”

“Are you sure he doesn’t feel the same way about you?”

“I don’t know. We get along well, and he told me he’s attracted to older men, but being attracted to older men and having sex with them isn’t the same as being in a relationship with a busted old goalie with an unreliable libido.”