Page 34 of Common Goal
“I’ll tell you.” Uncomfortable was one way of putting it. Although, whether he was uncomfortable from being unsure of how to respond to Kyle’s suggestive remarks, or if it was from the sudden tightness of his jeans, it was hard to say. Did Kyleknowthat Eric was attracted to men? Was it as obvious to him as Eric’s inability to leave his basement a mess?
“You are gorgeous, though,” Kyle said easily. “If you didn’t know that.”
“Thank you.”Return the compliment, Eric!Or should he? Would that only make things more weird? It was probably safer if the flirting was only one sided. But he had to say something, so he said, “I like your glasses.”
Kyle laughed. “As in you want to buy a pair for yourself, or as in you want to see me wearing nothing but them?” Before Eric could respond, Kyle quickly said, “Sorry. That was too much.”
Eric crossed his legs as casually as possible as he fought to banish the mental image of Kyle wearing only his glasses. Maybe he would be stretched elegantly across Eric’s bed, his back arching as Eric trailed kisses up the inside of his thigh...
“I’m trying to be anyway,” Kyle said.
Trying to be? Trying to be what? Oh god, Eric had completely missed everything that Kyle had just said.
“Trying to be, um...pardon?” Eric said elegantly.
Kyle grinned. “Good. Or smart. Trying not to date creeps.”
“Creeps?” Anger flared inside of Eric at the thought of a man hurting Kyle. “How do you mean?”
“Oh, you know. Secretly married. Closeted and staying there. Manipulative and selfish. Any combination of those things. That’s my type, apparently.”
That didn’t sound like the sort of man Kyle should be with at all. Kyle should be with someone who cherished every one of his playful smiles and devilish winks. Who appreciated how smart Kyle was, and how easy he was to talk to. “Those guys sound like assholes.”
“Yeah, well.” Kyle pulled his knees up and rested his tilted head on them. “You wanna hear something funny? I thought you were going to be one of them.”
“One of them? What do you mean?”
“I thought you were married. Because of the ring. And I thought you were...well. It doesn’t matter.”
“Thought I was what?” Dammit. The ring. Carter was right. He should have taken it off ages ago.
“I probably project it on every handsome older man now, but I thought you were another closeted married man who was looking to have a little secret fun with the gay boy.”
Eric’s stomach clenched at the thought. “I would never—that’s—”
“I know. I was wrong. I get it. Like I said, I project. But you really do seem like a great guy, and I’d like to be friends.”
Friends. “I’d like that too.” It wasn’t a lie. Eric did like talking to Kyle, and he’d love to go to some galleries with him. Maybe share some meals. Maybe—
Kyle yawned then, and Eric was reminded of the late hour. And of the fact that Kyle lived all the way in Chelsea.
“You should stay here tonight,” Eric said. It was an obvious offer and he should have made it before now.
“Oh no. I can get a cab.”
“Stay. I have two guest rooms. I’ll even make coffee in the morning.”
Kyle lifted his head off his knees. “That is very tempting.”
“I’ve got extra toothbrushes and everything. I have nowhere to be in the morning. You can sleep as late as you like.”
Kyle yawned again, then laughed. “All right. You win.”
Eric beamed, far too happy about this development. He stood and offered Kyle his hand, a natural gesture that he would offer one of his teammates on the ice or at the gym. But when Kyle took his hand, suddenly nothing about it seemed natural or familiar. Kyle’s fingers were cold, probably from rinsing out the beer bottles, and his skin was rougher than Eric had been expecting. He pulled Kyle to his feet, and then Kyle’s face was inches away from Eric’s own. Their chests were almost brushing against each other as Kyle gazed at him with sleepy blue eyes.
Eric was still holding his hand.
“I’ll, um. I’ll show you your room. I can lend you some pajama pants, if you like.”
