Page 22 of Common Goal
Eric unfastened the straps on his chest protector. “Maybe I want to try something new.” It was an absurd thing to say, given that almost every fucking thing in Eric’s life lately had been new. His house was new, living alone was new, being single was new, facing retirement was new.
Allowing himself to fantasize about men was new.
Wanting to maybe do something about it was definitely new.
“Well, Kip and I will be there for sure. And maybe Kip can invite Maria. She’s fun. Oh, and Kyle. She lives with him, so if he’s not working, maybe—”
“Sure. That would be cool,” Eric interrupted, far too eagerly. “If he’s not busy. He can definitely come. I’d like that. I mean...the more the merrier, right?” He cringed inwardly.The more the merrier?God, he sounded like his mother.
“We have to be up sort of early on Friday,” Scott said. “Kip and I, I mean. We’re doing an interview for a documentary about queer athletes. There’s going to be hair and makeup and the whole deal. Kip is excited about it.”
“That sounds great.” Eric meant it. Scott and Kip had done a lot of interviews, events, and photoshoots since their relationship had become public. It was basically a second job for Scott, taking up most of his free time. But Scott had told Eric once that, in the past, that time might have been spent doing paid work for his sponsors, and representing and boosting the LGBTQ community was far more rewarding than endorsing razor blades and sports drinks. “I won’t be offended if you need to leave the party early. I’ve left plenty of parties early for no reason at all, so...”
Scott smiled. “I wasn’t exactly a party animal myself before I met Kip. I mean, I’m still not, but at least I go out without feeling terrified that I’ll let the mask slip, y’know?”
Oh, Eric knew. His situation wasn’t the same as Scott’s, but he understood how it felt to live with a secret. To love playing hockey, but hate having to endure the endless homophobic slurs. To have to pretend you didn’t take them personally. At least Eric had been with Holly for most of his career. He hadn’t denied himself love or companionship out of fear, he just hadn’t been completely honest about who he was.
Scott had never had that luxury. By the time Scott had finally come out to his friends, Eric had already suspected that Scott might be gay. It wasn’t just that he’d never shown any interest in dating or hooking up with women—it was the unease that Scott always carried with him into social situations. Into locker room conversations about women. It was the sadness that had always lurked under his steady, heroic exterior. Most of the guys probably hadn’t noticed, but Eric had seen it for years.
He’d never asked Scott about it beyond a perfunctory “are you all right?”, which probably made Eric a bad friend. Or maybe it just made him a hockey player, conditioned to only be interested in feelings that came from, or affected, the game. Either way, Eric had done nothing to help.
It almost felt selfish to come out to Scott now. After Scott had done all the hard work on his own. It had been two and a half years since Scott had publicly come out as the first gay NHL player, and now, after watching his friend shoulder that burden alone, Eric wanted what? Some advice? Some dating tips?
He needed to figure out a way to tell Scott that didn’t make him feel like an asshole.
“I like you better with the mask off,” is what he said now.
Scott beamed at him. “Me too.” He clapped Eric on the shoulder. “I’m excited about this party, Benny! This is going to be great.”
Eric nodded. Maybe he could be a little more adventurous. The kind of guy who hosted fun parties and who maybe opened the door, just a crack, to let a little chaos into his life.
Chapter Six
Going to the gym with Aram was like going to karaoke night with Jennifer Hudson. Kyle felt absolutely outclassed and ridiculous every time he agreed to work out with his Atlas-like co-worker. Aram was maybe three inches taller than Kyle, but he had to have at least thirty or forty extra pounds of muscle on him. His arms were like balloon arches.
Kyle watched as Aram added more weight to the barbell before stepping into the rack. “Why don’t we just go outside and you can lift a bus?” Kyle suggested. “It would be free.”
“Because there are less hot boys in tank tops out there,” Aram said.
Kyle positioned himself near Aram, ostensibly to spot him as he did his squats, but if Aram actually did lose control of the barbell, it would go right through Kyle, the floor, and probably end up near the center of the earth.
Aram was definitely one of thehottestboys in a tank top at the gym. Tall, muscular, and arrestingly handsome with his long, dark hair and trim beard, rich brown eyes, and a killer smile. It was kind of shocking that he and Kyle had never hooked up, but Kyle figured if it hadn’t happened by now, it wasn’t going to. And despite Aram’s good looks, Kyle didn’t think of him that way.
Kyle’s gaze had mostly been drifting toward one of the treadmills where an older, distinguished-looking man had been running for the past half hour. His hair was silver, but he was probably only in his forties. He looked like an executive; a man who was used to getting what he wanted. Kyle allowed himself a moment to fantasize about having that man underneath him, begging for Kyle’s cock.
Oof. Anyway.
Aram finished his set and led Kyle to some mats where they could do some stretching before hitting the locker room.
“Is Kip really going to keep working at the Kingfisher?” Aram asked as he settled himself on his back. “It’s not like he needs the money now that he’s locking Scott down.”
Kyle lay down beside him, and they both turned toward each other to do identical thoracic rotation stretches. “I don’t know,” Kyle said honestly. “Maybe not.”
“If I was marrying a millionaire I sure as fuck wouldn’t be working there anymore,” Aram said.
“He’s proud, y’know? He doesn’t want to be a kept man.”
“God,Ido. I would be very happy spending my husband’s money for a living, I think.”
