Common Goal (Game Changers #4)- Rachel Reid Page 0,27

in each other’s eyes at the moment, so Kyle turned his attention to Tommy. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Kyle.” He held out his hand, and Tommy shook it.

“Tommy. Andersson.”

“Right! You’re the other goalie. Sorry I didn’t recognize you.”

Tommy smiled. He was really goddamned handsome. He looked like a Skarsgaard. “Don’t worry about it.”

There was nothing flirtatious about the way Tommy spoke to or looked at Kyle, but it occurred to Kyle that it was pretty cool that this probably-straight hockey player was calmly sharing a sectional sofa with three gay men. Like, he shouldn’t get a trophy for it or anything, but from what Kyle knew about team sports, especially hockey, it wasn’t an insignificant gesture. He wondered how big an impact Scott had made on the way his teammates viewed queer people.

“So you like getting hit by pucks too, huh?”

“Most of the time, yes.” He was so much younger than Eric. Kyle wondered if he was Eric’s competition, or if Eric was more like his mentor. Maybe it was a bit of both.

“Do you like New York?” Kyle asked. It was maybe the most boring question he could ask, but at least it filled the silence.

Tommy, thankfully, seemed enthusiastic when he answered. “Yes, I am very lucky. Not only because it’s New York, but because I get to play with Benny. Eric, I mean. He was my hero, growing up.”

“Whoa, really? That’s nuts!” Kyle couldn’t imagine what that was like for Eric. It must make him feel old.

“Yes,” Tommy said seriously. “He is one of the best ever. He has been a great teacher.”

Kyle knew that Eric was considered to be one of the greatest goaltenders to ever play the game, but he kind of forgot about it when he was talking to him. He couldn’t quite reconcile the man behind the mask and the quietly intense man who collected art.

At that moment Maria dropped on the couch next to Kyle, and a very tall and beautiful blond woman snuggled up to Tommy. They began speaking to each other in Swedish, so Kyle assumed this was Tommy’s girlfriend or wife.

“How’s it going?” Kyle asked Maria. “How’s Operation Finland?”

Maria exhaled with enough force to blow the tendrils of hair that fell in her face straight out. “Terrible. Have you seen the women at this party?” She subtly nodded in the direction of the woman Tommy was now kissing. “How am I supposed to have a chance?”

Kyle’s gaze dropped to her chest. “You could try more cleavage.”

Instead of telling him to fuck off, like he’d expected, she laughed and then curled into him. “God, I look ridiculous. And desperate.”

Kyle kissed the top of her head. “You look gorgeous. So was Jalo a dick to you? I can beat him up. It might take a few days of punching him, but eventually he would feel it. I think.”

“I haven’t even tried to talk to him,” Maria said into his shoulder. “I don’t know what I was expecting to happen.”

“Well, what should have happened was that he spotted you across the room, and then parted the crowd with his massive shoulders and thighs so he could get to you. Then he should have swept you off your feet and carried you back to his place for six days and seven nights of lovemaking.”

“Like, would that have been so hard? Men. Honestly.” She sighed. “I’m going to die alone.”

“You’re not. You’re going to die during a threesome with Oscar Isaac and Michael B. Jordan.”

“That’s really nice of you to say.”

“Do you want to look at art with me?”

She lifted her head. “I think I’d rather look at that bar over there.”

“Pace yourself, girl.”

“Fuck yourself, boy.” She playfully punched his arm before standing and heading for the bar. He turned his attention to Kip, who was actually for real booping Scott on the nose, so Kyle stood up and got the fuck out of there.

He headed out of the crowded basement and upstairs to the front entrance area. He’d noticed some paintings and sculptures on display there that he hadn’t had a chance to inspect earlier. He figured he could poke around a bit, maybe mix Eric another drink, and then hit the road. He wasn’t in much of a party mood tonight.

Eric’s house was undeniably beautiful, but Kyle wondered what it looked like when it wasn’t full of lively party guests. The stark white walls and modern, minimal furniture were ideal for displaying art, but Kyle imagined it might be a cold