Common Goal (Game Changers #4)- Rachel Reid Page 0,25

the middle.

“That one’s my favorite.” Eric realized they were both speaking in hushed tones. Everyone was either on the first or basement floors, so the floor above them was completely empty. The situation suddenly seemed very intimate.

Kyle turned to face him, and his face changed. It was like the light had suddenly gone out, the corners of his mouth turned down and his eyes looked almost scared. Eric shifted so he wasn’t leaning quite so close.

“So,” Kyle said. It wasn’t the husky whisper he’d been using a moment ago. This was bright and loud and jarring. “Where’s the kitchen?” Without waiting for an answer, he turned and headed up the rest of the stairs.

Of course. Eric’s attraction to Kyle was probably written all over his face. His old, divorced, boring face. Kyle couldn’t be blamed for being uncomfortable.

Be cool, Eric instructed himself. You are in control of your feelings, your body, and your libido. He took a centering breath, then followed Kyle up the stairs. Kyle had found the kitchen, which made sense since it took up most of this floor. He set the bag on one of the counters and looked around.

“You’re having a party and your kitchen is this spotless?”

“The food is catered. I ordered from a barbecue restaurant the guys like.”

“Uh huh. And what are you going to eat?”

“They have a kale salad I like.”

Kyle smiled but didn’t say anything about that as he began pulling bottles out of the bag and setting them on the counter. The last thing he pulled out was a cocktail shaker. “I wasn’t sure you’d own one yourself,” he said, holding it up.

“I do. But what is all this?”

“A birthday present. Just wait.”

Eric got a hit of that fizzing sensation in his blood when Kyle winked at him then. “Do you need ice?”

“Yes, please.” Kyle set everything up on the kitchen island like it was a bar, so Eric filled a bowl with ice and then sat himself at one of the stools on the other side.

“I have a friend who makes incredible fermented juices and sodas,” Kyle said as he cracked open a tall glass bottle full of vibrant, yellow liquid. “Here, smell this.” He held out the bottle and Eric sniffed. It was warm and spicy and familiar.

“Ginger?” He asked.

Kyle nodded. “It’s a fermented ginger and turmeric tonic. Delicious, healthy and the main component of your birthday mocktail.”

“Birthday mocktail?” Eric was touched. He’d planned on drinking soda water tonight.

“I figured you might like fermented juice. You seem, y’know...”

“Like a health nut?”

“Like someone who takes care of himself,” Kyle said with another wink as he measured out a small amount of a syrupy, light brown liquid from a second bottle. It was weird, having bartender Kyle and daytime Kyle blend into this single person in Eric’s kitchen. Eric missed the short sleeves of the tight, white T-shirts that Kyle normally wore at work. He’d be able to see the slight bulge of Kyle’s biceps right now as he shook the cocktail shaker.

Kyle held up a finger and went to Eric’s cupboards, opening doors until he found what he wanted. He came back to the island with a rocks glass, then tossed some ice cubes into it. “I hope you like this. I made a test one for myself earlier today.”

“You didn’t have to go to so much trouble.”

“It’s not trouble. I love inventing cocktails, with or without alcohol. I’m trying to convince my boss, Gus, to introduce an artisanal cocktail menu at the Kingfisher. He’s pretty happy just serving beer and basic bitch mixed drinks, though.”

“What about the Scott Hunter cocktail?”

Kyle smiled as he strained the contents of the shaker into the glass. “That was my creation. I put it on the chalkboard one night and it’s been there ever since. Gus is terrible at marketing, but even he had to see the value of promoting the bar’s connection to New York’s favorite gay hockey star.”

“Did Kip know about the cocktail? Before you put it on the board, I mean?”

“I ran it by him. He was pretty thrilled about the idea. He suggested making it with blueberry juice. I think it’s an inside thing with those two.” He slid the glass toward Eric. “Maybe we can call this one the Eric Bennett.”

Eric lifted the glass and admired the cloudy, yellow color of the liquid inside. He took a sip and tasted the sharp bite of the ginger, the warmth of the turmeric, and something sweet that balanced it all out.