Page 56 of Home Ice Advantage

“Disgusting, Aronson.”

“Mmm. You begged for it, remember?”

He did. He shivered again, thinking about it.

“How the hell have you managed to boss an entire team of guys around all these years?” Eric asked, groaning, as he hauled himself to his feet. “When you’re this easy.”

“It’s just with you,” Ryan said, a little embarrassed. He turned away quickly, before he could see too much of Eric’s face. He didn’t know what he would find there, and he was almost afraid to look.

And then there was the food, and the bathroom, and he was distracted.

Chapter Ten

January

In the morning, Ryan woke up to the sound of Eric moving around in the kitchen and, specifically, the sound of a teakettle whistling. He sat up in the crumpled sheets and blankets and thought, briefly, about what they’d done yesterday. He felt embarrassed for approximately five seconds before curiosity drove him out of bed and into the apartment’s living area.

Eric was doing something complicated with the kettle and what looked like a glass vase of some kind, ringed by a wooden clasp where the neck narrowed. He was wearing only his boxers and Ryan took a second to admire the way he looked, the shift of muscle in the long line of his back.

Eric glanced over his shoulder when he heard Ryan come into the kitchen. “Morning, lazy.”

“Lazy?” Ryan demanded, glancing at the clock. It said5:00 a.m.“I’ll have you know that I’m planning to go for a run in a minute.”

“After last night?” Eric asked, his eyebrows raised above the line of his glasses. “Clearly, I need to fuck you harder next time. Also. Maybe put some pants on before you go.”

Ryan looked down at his naked body and shrugged. He managed to resist the urge to press his fingers against the bruised imprints Eric’s teeth had left behind, but it was a close one. It wouldn’t have done to inflate Eric’s head further, especially when he was clearly still smirking about how intensely he’d upended Ryan’s world last night. Instead, Ryan looked suspiciously at the glass vase and asked, “What are you doing?”

“I’m making you some decent fucking coffee for once,” Eric said. He was pouring the kettle over the wide mouth of the vase, a little bit at a time, and waiting before pouring again. Ryan, who had never had that kind of patience for anything in his life that didn’t involve hockey, stared. “With thegoodshit and my Chemex.”

“Oh...” Ryan said, doubtfully. “You know I’m not gonna be able to taste the difference, Eric.”

“That’s just because you’ve never tried it. You’re so used to drinking sugar milk, of course you won’t be able to taste the difference. But I’m going to make youthebest coffee and you’re going to try and it and I’m going totrainyou to like it.”

Ryan stared at him. “Eric...buddy...the thought is a nice one. But there’s a reason I like my coffee the way I like it. It’s what I grew up with.”

“Come on,” Eric said. His voice had that coaxing edge that it had had when they were fucking around yesterday, when he’d murmured,It’s okay if you want it.Ryan could feel himself getting a little hard, remembering, and Eric laughed when he noticed. “You’ll like it, Ryan, I promise.”

“If Idon’tlike it?”

“I’ll buy you Dunkin’ Donuts coffee every day for a week.”

“Isn’t that against your moral code?”

“Yes,” Eric said, and his eyebrows rose above his glasses again. “So that’s how you know I’m serious about this coffee. It’s Ethiopian and it has notes of milk chocolate, Concord grape and cherry.”

Ryan, who had never been able to taste anything except coffee when drinking coffee, looked doubtfully at the Chemex. “Can I put sugar in it?”

“No.”

“Milk?”

“No!”

He watched Eric pouring the mug of coffee for him with a small amount of trepidation. The fact that Ericcaredenough to do this was, weirdly, the thing that stuck with him. Ryan knew he wasn’t going to like the coffee. He already knew he wasn’t going to be able to taste chocolate or grape or cherry or whatever it was that Eric was going on about. Ryan hadn’t even tried drinking black coffee in decades, and there was a reason for it.

But Ericcaredabout coffee, and he had enough space in his morning to try to make sure that Ryan cared about it, too. Ryan realized, with a sinking feeling, that he was enough of a fool to actually drink this shit.

Eric held out the mug to him, and the hopeful look was out of character for him. Ryan took a deep breath and blew on the hot coffee until some of the steam rising had cleared away, and took one small, careful sip. It was still hot enough to burn the first layer off of his tongue, but even then, it tasted like black coffee. It wasn’t as bitter as some coffee he’d had; he’d have to give Eric that. But it still tasted like—well, bitter bean water.

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