Common Goal (Game Changers #4)- Rachel Reid Page 0,13
Eric’s gaze kept landing on Kyle as he worked. The way he frowned when Kyle flirted with other customers, even as Eric fiddled with his fucking wedding ring.
Kyle was all too familiar with men like Eric. Men who liked to spend their evenings away from their wives so they could scratch an itch they would never dare speak a word about to any of the people in their lives who actually mattered to them. Men who were happy to get off with Kyle, men who maybe even claimed to want more than secret hookups with him, someday. But those men were all the same. As soon as there was even a chance the secret might get out, that their desire for men might be known by anyone important to them, they bolted.
Fuck men like that. Kyle had wasted too much of his life—of his heart—on them. Eric could ogle him all he liked with those gorgeous dark eyes. Kyle wasn’t biting.
“I hate it when Scott comes here,” Aram grumbled as he filled a couple of pint glasses. “All eyes are on him until he leaves.”
“Aw,” Kyle said. “I think at least one pair of eyes is on you, babe.” He nodded at a tall, muscular man who was definitely trying to get Aram’s attention for reasons beyond wanting to order a drink.
Aram perked up. “Well, hello. Let me go see what he’s thirsty for.” Kyle laughed. Aram finished loading his tray with full pints, then winked at him. “Hey, I see Scott brought his hot dad tonight.”
Kyle followed Aram’s gaze to where Eric was sitting. As soon as Kyle’s eyes landed on him, Eric turned his head quickly away. Busted. “Oh, you mean Husband of the Year over there? No thank you.”
Aram wrinkled his nose. “Right. I forgot. Ick.”
He left with his tray of drinks, and Kyle took a cute, chubby bearded guy’s order.
“That’s Scott Hunter, right?” the man asked as Kyle prepared his gin and tonic.
“The one and only.”
“He’s even more gorgeous in person. Damn.”
“Oh I know.”
“The guy who’s sitting with him is hot too, in a sexy professor kind of way.”
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’m busy.”
“Busy with that handsome lumberjack?”
Kyle narrowed his eyes at him. “The handsome lumberjack who has a giant crush on your fiancé?”
For a moment, Kip looked outraged, but then he grinned and said, “Well, I can’t blame him. I mean, just look at Scott. Sometimes I can’t believe he’s really mine.”
Ugh. “Lucky you.”
“You’re in a mood tonight.”
“I’m fine. 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. It had to be practiced, because it was a masterpiece. A smile that simultaneously said I am figuring out exactly how to torture you and I don’t care about you at all.
“So,” Eric said. “You’re here.”
“Yes,” Ilya agreed.
“Is there a reason for that, or...”
“This place is cozy.” The way Ilya said it—the way he said everything—made it hard to tell if he was making fun of Eric.