Page 14 of Common Goal
Kyle had to fight to keep himself from rolling his eyes. “Mm.”
When the bearded guy left with his drink, he was immediately replaced by Kip. “You should come over to the table to say hi.”
“I’mbusy.”
“Busy with that handsome lumberjack?”
Kyle narrowed his eyes at him. “The handsome lumberjack who has a giant crush onyourfiancé?”
For a moment, Kip looked outraged, but then he grinned and said, “Well, I can’t blame him. I mean, justlookat Scott. Sometimes I can’t believe he’s really mine.”
Ugh.“Lucky you.”
“You’re in a mood tonight.”
“I’mfine. I’m just...hungry. And I probably need to get laid.”
“Good thing you work in a bar that has both food and horny men.”
Kyle couldn’t help but laugh at that, which made Kip beam. His horrible dimples arrived on the scene to torment Kyle. “Let me check on my tables,” Kyle said, “and then I’ll go say hi to Scott. And Eric. And...wait. Who’s that guy?”
Kip turned to glance at Scott’s table and his eyes went wide. “Holy shit.”
“Is that...”
“Ilya Rozanov.” Kip blew out a breath. “This night just got a lot more interesting.”
“Why? Is he your third or something?”
“Hell no. Rozanov is definitely into women. And he kind of hates Scott.”
“Is he in a committed relationship?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Then maybe I’ll see if any part of him might be into men.” Kyle smiled coyly at Kip, then zipped away with an empty tray.
Kyle was definitely avoiding their table. Whether that was because of Eric or because he didn’t like being around Scott and Kip as a couple, Eric couldn’t say. Maybe he was just busy and Eric was being paranoid. He wished Kyle would stop by for at least a moment, if for no other reason than to save Eric from having to choose between looking at Kip snuggled into Scott’s lap, or at Ilya frigging Rozanov.
Rozanov was sitting calmly, observing the room with the same bemused little smile that infuriated his opponents on the ice. Ithadto be practiced, because it was a masterpiece. A smile that simultaneously saidI am figuring out exactly how to torture youandI don’t care about you at all.
“So,” Eric said. “You’rehere.”
“Yes,” Ilya agreed.
“Is there a reason for that, or...”
“This place is cozy.” The way Ilya said it—the way he saideverything—made it hard to tell if he was making fun of Eric.
“It’s nice,” Eric said carefully.
“You are here a lot?”
“Not a lot. I come with Scott sometimes.”
“Your wife left you, yes?”
Jesus, he was blunt. “Weseparated.”
