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“Oh.” She looked like the question hadn’t occurred to her until now. “I can’t say it’s come up. I can ask?”
“Sure, why not? Now”—Adrian made an inviting gesture towards the common area—“can I interest you in a nightcap? We’ve got a fire going, and Martin located another bottle of that single malt whiskey you enjoyed yesterday.”
“Ah, splendid.” Mr Fraser waved for the other three to start moving, the Hamiltons doing so with brief but kind parting smiles. Once they were gone, Eric finally allowed his grin to break through.
“Who needs dating apps, huh?” he asked.
“They mean well.” Adrian gathered the last few glasses and together, they moved towards the kitchen.
“Does that happen a lot?”
“People peddling their grandkids? Not so much.” Adrian bumped the swing door open with his hip. “But we do get the occasional guest who develops a bit of an infatuation with the idea of moving to the mountains and co-running a family hotel.”
“More like they develop a bit of an infatuation with your face,” Monika commented idly. “The mountain hotel is a bonus.” She was wiping down counters while Kojo was loading the dishwasher—a marked departure from the Michelin-starred London restaurant, where an entire cleanup crew had followed the chefs around. He didn’t seem to mind the change.
Adrian snorted. “Like I’d hook up with a guest. I can justseethe Google Maps reviews—‘promising package, slightly disappointingdelivery’ or ‘guest satisfaction guaranteed’. Depending on, you know … expectations and performance.”
Blessedly, Kojo’s full-belied laugh glossed over any awkwardness on Eric’s part. A couple of hours on the slopes had taught him to loosen up more around Adrian, but he was still learning to reconcile the carefree persona Adrian had shown on camera years ago with the real man, who blended focused efficiency with sparks of bright humour. His blinding smiles were still reminiscent of what had captured Eric’s attention back then.
Just—what were the fuckingchances?
“On the bright side,” Kojo told Adrian, “if you ever need to make some extra money to, say, install a pool? You’ve got an income stream just waiting to be tapped into.”
“Nah. Been there, done that, got the GayVN Award to prove it.”
“His parents weresoproud,” Monika threw in, unfastening her hair net, and Eric’s amusement finally won.
“Remember,” he asked Kojo, “when you were worried this might be the backwards sort of place where bloodletting is considered progressive medicine?”
“You were?” Monika shook out her hair, tone off-handed. “Well, just so you know—when I started working here, they thought they’d hired a man. Couldn’t have asked for a more supportive environment.”
“We try,” Adrian said with a smile, and Kojo reached out to grasp his shoulder, uncommonly serious.
“Thanks for hiring me, man. Like I said, the last place I worked at kind of sucked, and this is… It’s different in the best fucking way. I’m glad to be here.”
“Glad to have you.” Adrian’s expression softened. “And again, I’m sorry you had that experience—not sorry it’s brought you here, though. The guests tonight were raving about the food.” He shot Monika a glance. “No offence.”
She waved him off. “None taken, babe. I take pride in being an excellent sous-chef.”
“You really are,” Kojo told her before he began dishing up someleftovers. They ate out in the dining room, lights turned down low and the murmur of voices from the common area a comfortable background buzz, Martin popping in and out for bites of food in between serving bar guests.
While the others cleared away the dirty dishes, Eric sat down at the piano, letting his hands flutter over the ebony and ivory keys without actually touching them. It truly was a beautiful instrument, in an entirely different league than the keyboard he had at home. He’d thought about buying a baby grand but his flat didn’t quite have the space for it.
“Feel free,” Adrian said from behind Eric, voice pitched low in the quiet room.
Eric turned to look up at him. The dim illumination muted the clear green of Adrian’s eyes, and Eric reminded himself not to stare. “You don’t think people will mind?”
“You’re good, right?”
“I mean…” Eric hesitated. “I specialised in piano for my music degree. So.”
“So you aregood.” One side of Adrian’s mouth tugged up. “Except you’re not the kind of guy who’d come out and say it like that.”
“Nailed it,” Kojo chimed in. “Really not the bragging type, Eric.”
“That’s nice, actually. Better than some guy who claims to be fluent in German and it turns out that all he knows is how to order a beer.”
“Speaking from experience?” Kojo asked, and Adrian huffed out a laugh.
