Common Goal (Game Changers #4)- Rachel Reid Page 0,15

word to anyone, Rozanov.”

Ilya leaned back in his chair. “Is not going to shock people, Bennett. You are very old.”

“Thanks.”

“Tommy Andersson will be happy.”

Eric spotted Scott coming back from the bathroom. “Shush. I mean it.”

Ilya pressed his lips together, but his eyes danced and Eric really wasn’t sure if he was going to keep quiet or not. His stomach clenched at the possibility of having his two biggest secrets revealed right now by Ilya goddamned Rozanov.

But Ilya didn’t say a word, and shortly after Scott sat down, Kyle returned with their drinks. “One naughty Scott Hunter,” he said as he placed a blue cocktail in front of Ilya. “And one nice Scott Hunter.” He placed an identical drink in front of Eric, then darted away before Eric could even thank him.

Ilya lifted his glass. “Should we drink to Scott Hunter and his future husband?”

“I think we drank enough to that last week,” Scott said sheepishly.

“To love, then. And”—he glanced at Eric—“to being brave.”

They all clinked their glasses, and Ilya winked at him in a gesture that Eric translated as your secret is safe with me.

Ilya took a sip of his drink, and his face scrunched up. “Ugh. Tastes like Scott Hunter. Too sweet.”

Eric thought the drink was remarkably well balanced, but his obviously had different ingredients.

“Kyle!” Ilya called out. “Help!”

Eric saw Kyle pause on his way from the bar to a table. He was carrying a tray loaded with drinks. “Leave him alone. He’s working.”

“I am a customer,” Ilya argued. “And I need a beer or something to get this taste out of my mouth.”

“I once watched you drink three Cherry Cokes at an All-Star weekend lunch, so don’t pretend you don’t like sweet drinks.”

Ilya looked a little stunned by Eric’s snark. Then he grinned. “I did not know you were so interested in me.”

“I’m not. At all. It was a shocking amount of Cherry Coke for a pro athlete to consume. It was memorable.”

“You know,” Ilya said with a weird little smile. “You were not the only one to think so that day.” He took another sip of his drink, and made a disgusted face. “Where is Kyle? Or the other one, Hunter’s guy.”

Eric sighed. “Stay here. I’ll get you a beer.”

Ilya’s smirk was far too knowing. “Yes. You go talk to Kyle. Would you like me to hold your wedding ring?”

Eric didn’t answer him. He turned and strode toward the bar before Ilya could see his cheeks darken.

Kyle was just returning to the bar when Eric got there. “Oh, hey,” Kyle said. It definitely wasn’t warm.

“Ilya wants a beer, and I wanted to stretch my legs,” Eric said.

“Uh-huh. What kind of beer?”

This conversation wasn’t going at all the way Eric wanted it to. He tried for flirtatious. He leaned forward a bit, resting an elbow on the bar top. “I might need to rely on your expert opinion for that.”

Kyle stared at him, his expression so unfriendly that Eric slid his elbow off the bar and let his arm hang at his side. Then Kyle said, with a huff of irritation, “I like the red ale.”

“Okay. I’ll go with that, then.”

Kyle grabbed a glass and wordlessly filled it with ale. Eric awkwardly accepted it, but didn’t move to return to the table. He should leave, he knew that, but he also desperately wanted Kyle’s attention, if only for a moment.

* * *

Why is he still here?

Kyle was starting to wish Eric would outright proposition him so he could turn him down and be done with it.

Maybe he doesn’t want to proposition you.

It was definitely a possibility. Kip had said that Eric could use a friend—someone to talk about art and history and other non-hockey things with. In fact, it was extremely possible that Kyle was being an asshole because he was projecting his past heartbreak onto a perfectly innocent attractive older man.

An attractive older man who looked completely lost right now, holding someone else’s beer and seemingly trying to think of something to say that would make Kyle be nice to him.

Kyle decided to throw him a bone. “Do you have the day off tomorrow?”

Eric’s face lit up, and Kyle flooded with shame. “I do.”

Kyle pretended to be busy wiping down the bar. “And how does Eric Bennett spend his days off?”

Eric seemed to think about it for a moment. “I do a more intensive yoga practice at home on days when I don’t have a game or practice.”

“Wow.” Kyle laughed. “Is that how you kick back and