Common Goal (Game Changers #4)- Rachel Reid Page 0,54
on Thursday evening, Kyle was at Eric’s front door with a backpack and a serious appetite for both food and sex.
Eric opened the door looking absurdly gorgeous. His white dress shirt was open at the collar and had the sleeves rolled up, and suddenly Kyle couldn’t care less about food.
“Hey,” Eric said, stepping aside to let Kyle in. “Thanks for coming.”
“I was probably going to be watching Guy’s Grocery Games or something, so I appreciate the invitation.” He kissed Eric’s cheek as he walked past him into the house.
Eric took his coat and gestured to the bag Kyle was holding. “What did you bring this time?”
“Ingredients for another mocktail.”
Eric smiled warmly, as if he was immensely touched by this. “That’s very thoughtful. I do have some wine, if you’d—”
“Nope. I’m good.” No way was Kyle going to be even slightly tipsy tonight if things turned to Eric trusting Kyle to take him to bed.
“I hope you don’t mind vegetarian food,” Eric said as they went up the stairs to the kitchen.
“Of course not.” Kyle also didn’t mind this view of Eric’s ass and thighs as he followed him up the stairs. Even covered in denim, his thighs looked like they could crush cars.
“I’m not a chef by any stretch, but I can make a few things. Do you like eggs?”
“Love them.”
“Good. I made shakshuka. It’s—”
“Eggs cooked in a tomato sauce. I love that stuff!”
“Me too. I bought some good bread and I thought we could eat it at the island in the kitchen, since you need to eat it out of the skillet.”
Kyle loved this idea. It was fun and intimate. The perfect date meal. Maybe Eric had more game than he let on.
He followed Eric to the kitchen. You couldn’t tell that anyone had been preparing food in there, except for the cast iron skillet full of bubbling tomato sauce. Other than that, the room was immaculate. Eric went to the fridge and pulled out a carton of eggs. Kyle decided to get to work on the drinks.
“What are you making?” Eric asked.
“It’s going to be kind of a zero proof version of a mojito.” Kyle waved a bunch of fresh mint in the air.
“I’ve never had a mojito.”
“Since you like soda and lime so much, I thought it might appeal to you.” Kyle went to the cupboard and pulled out two tall glasses. “It’s lime and mint muddled with some syrup or sugar, and then topped with soda water. Obviously there’s normally rum as well, but I made a spiced syrup to stand in for that missing flavor.”
“Impressive.” Eric cracked a fourth egg into the skillet. “You’ll have to teach me how to make some of these drinks.”
“You can help me make these, if you want.” Kyle began plucking leaves from a mint stem. “So you’ve really never been a drinker?”
“Never. Not even in college.”
“I know it’s none of my business, but is there a reason?”
“I like control.” Eric picked up a stem and joined Kyle in removing the leaves. “I need to be in charge of my mind and body. And I like to keep my body as clean as possible.”
“You’ve never felt the urge to cut loose? Relax that control?”
“Not often. But when I do, there are...other ways to do that.”
Kyle tore a leaf in half, his fingers suddenly clumsy. “I might know a couple of ways.”
Eric gazed at him with dark, smoldering eyes. Kyle held his gaze, letting him know that he was comfortable discussing this. Or, hell, just doing it, shakshuka be damned.
Eric went to check on the eggs. “Another couple of minutes and they’ll be perfect, I think.”
“Come help me muddle.”
Kyle showed Eric how to gently mash the mint leaves into the bottom of the glasses with a muddler Kyle had brought along. He explained how he’d made the syrup, and the importance of flavor balance in a cocktail. Eric was a keen student, listening closely and asking questions. When they were done, there were two tall glasses of non-alcoholic mojitos that were worthy of Instagram.
“You should be a bartender,” Eric joked.
“I wish I could make stuff like this at work.” Kyle sighed. “Someday.”
“Someday?”
Kyle could guess how Eric, with his Harvard degree and impressive NHL career, might react to this. “I think it’s what I want to do. Bartending. Hospitality. Maybe have my own bar someday.”
Eric’s brow furrowed. “What about your studies? I thought you might want to be a professor. Or maybe work for a museum.”