get empanadas?” Kyle’s lips curved up, and Eric’s whole body relaxed.
“Of course.”
Kyle kissed his cheek. “I’m in.”
He went to the bathroom, and Eric looked at the empty space on the bed beside him, wishing things could be different.
Chapter Fifteen
As they entered the gallery together, Eric reminded himself for the hundredth time that this wasn’t a date.
“Hello?” Eric called out into the empty room. He heard the clacking of stiletto heels against the concrete floor, and then Jeanette appeared from the back room.
“Eric!” She embraced him and kissed his cheek, then turned to Kyle. “And who is this?”
“Jeanette, this is my friend Kyle. He’s studying art history at Columbia.” He hoped he hadn’t tripped over the word friend. Not that it was a lie. “Kyle, this is Jeanette Saint-Georges, my friend and the owner of this gallery.”
“I’ve walked by so many times and never been in,” Kyle said, shaking her hand. “It’s a beautiful space.”
“Thank you, and it’s lovely to meet you. It’s been a long time since Eric has brought a friend here.” She shot Eric a look that held a question he had no intention of answering. God, was he really so transparent? He’d never said anything to her that would suggest he was attracted to men. Did she just know? Would anyone he introduced Kyle to suspect that Eric was sleeping with him?
He averted her gaze and asked, “How was the opening?”
“Wonderful. We sold everything.”
“I’m not surprised.”
“Neither am I. But everyone was jealous of you. Your piece was the showstopper.”
“I can’t wait to see it,” Kyle said. “Eric has great taste.”
Jeanette eyed him appraisingly, as if she was considering exhibiting Kyle in her next show. “He certainly does have an eye for beauty.”
Heat raced up the back of Eric’s neck. She definitely suspected. She had to. Bringing Kyle here was a bad idea. Even if he and Kyle were actually dating—if Kyle were his boyfriend—it would be easier. He didn’t want to tell people that Kyle was a friend who was giving him some hands-on sexual education.
A much younger friend.
Christ, what was Eric doing?
Jeanette led them to the second room, and Eric walked behind both of them, trying to sort out his feelings. Trying to get a grip.
He thought he might be under control right up until the moment when Kyle spotted the painting Eric had bought. Kyle’s face lit up, and Eric’s heart fluttered traitorously.
“Oh wow,” Kyle said in a reverent whisper. “It’s stunning.”
“Yes,” Eric said quietly. As Kyle examined the painting, Eric examined Kyle. His long fingers were curled in front of his plush lips in contemplation, and his hip was jutting slightly to one side. Why was everything about him so fascinating?
His mind wandered back to Sunday night, when those fingers had been curled around Eric’s cock. Had been holding that wonderful toy steady while Eric fucked it. He remembered those same plush lips suckling the head of his cock, brushing soft kisses over his skin. Those same hips writhing in his lap as Kyle climaxed while Eric held him close.
Then he noticed that Jeanette and Kyle were both looking at him, and it was clear by their expressions that they were waiting for him to respond to something. “Pardon?”
“I asked Kyle if you’ve shown him any of your photography.”
“I said just one piece, but I’d love to see more,” Kyle said.
“Oh.” Eric felt uncomfortable having his hobby discussed as if he were a great talent. Especially in the presence of such exquisite actual art. “It’s more of the same. I’m a tourist with a camera. Sometimes I get lucky.”
“Luck has nothing to do with it,” Jeanette scoffed.
“Well,” Eric said slowly, “if I have any talent at all, it’s patience. I suppose that’s useful, when it comes to photography.”
“Patience and attention to detail,” Jeanette said. She nudged Kyle. “This one doesn’t miss a thing, you know.”
Kyle didn’t say anything, but he held Eric’s gaze while his lips curved into a slow, sexy smile. Eric quickly turned his attention to the painting, because it was safer territory. After that smile, however, the colors on the canvas seemed drab.
Kyle moved to stand right next to Eric, and they both studied the painting in silence. After a minute, Eric turned and was surprised to see that Jeanette had left at some point.
“Where are you going to hang it?” Kyle asked. His voice was hushed even though they were alone.
“My living room. I want to rearrange the space so this will be the focal point.”
“You’re going to spoil