“Erik King,” Erik replied, shaking Bill’s hand. For a second, he felt a flash of something close to interest coming from the pleasant-looking man—who appeared to be a good two to three years younger than his thirty—standing beside him. Interest beyond simply ‘you’re a guest here so I’m being polite’.
Not that I’d return it, if I’m reading him right. The last thing I need is another man in my life, even if he is kind of cute. Not after what the bastard pulled.
“Is that your bike in the parking lot?” Bill asked. “The one covered with snow?” He shook his head. “Okay, that was stupid. It’s not like there’s another one there that isn’t.”
Erik laughed. “Yep. As I said, I managed to get here just before the storm hit. Now it looks like I’ll be stuck here until it lets up.”
“Now, now,” Mrs. Gr
