Page 6 of Challenge Me

His dark eyes seemed to light up. “Do you like interesting men?”

I took a drink of my whiskey while I considered how to answer. He didn’t look away from me, and now that we’d spent some time talking, it felt exhilarating.

“Of course I like interesting men.” Coming back to my senses, I glanced around the bar.

“Then maybe you’ll stick around,” he said. “Last call’s in two hours.”

“Stick around for what?”

“Anything. Everything.” He grabbed a towel and twisted it around his palm. “Guess we’ll just wait and see. You got time?”

I looked at the rings on his fingers, then the veins on the back of his hand. The way the tendons moved as he played with the rag made me consider his words more than I should have.

“I have time,” I replied, my voice sounding far away, like it didn’t belong to me.

His smile, though wide, appeared dark. It made me wonder if I should backtrack, but it also kept me in my seat.

Spinning my glass around slowly, I stared into it. I had no idea what happened at last call, but I decided I’d nurse this drink until then. There was something about this guy that told me I needed to keep my wits about me.

Chapter 3

Amir

As I glanced at my watch, I wondered if I was insane for waiting here this long. It was a quarter to one in the morning, but I didn’t feel tired. I’d barely been on my phone, too busy watching Remi work his magic all over the place. He cleaned while he talked and never let drinks stay empty. Somehow, he kept up with everyone in the place without leaving me alone for very long.

My phone buzzed, so I looked away from him.

Trav: I made it safely. Roman says hi

Me: Give him my number please. I want to check in.

Trav: Did you ask the bartender that nicely too?

Me: I didn’t ask.

Trav: Go back and do it. He was dangerously hot

Me: I can’t.

Trav: Not with that attitude. If you’re making another World Series bet to convince yourself to come out, I might have to hop on a plane and kick your ass. In the nicest way possible

I laughed but slipped the phone into my pocket without responding. He was probably right. Hinging my future on something like that was stupid, but I’d been dancing around the idea of publicly coming out for so long now that I felt more pressure every time I thought about it.

The first thing I had to do was talk to Avery. That was also the part I was most afraid of.

Even though we’d lost the World Series last season, we were on everyone’s radar more than before. We’d played some damn good games, and after seven of them against the Braves, we’d barely let it slip through our fingers. Most importantly, we’d shown the world that we were a team to contend with. That also meant more publicity on anything we did, as a whole and individually.

Remi rapped his fingers on the counter, drawing my attention. He held up his phone, then tapped the screen. “Closing Time” started playing from the overhead speakers before he grabbed a gavel from under the bar and pounded it on the counter.

“Last call!” he shouted.

There were only a few people left, and two of them rushed over to get a final drink. As he closed out tabs, he sang along to the music, fearlessly belting the notes. I took off the headphones and set them down so I could listen to him. He glanced over at me and smiled mischievously without missing a beat.

I thought Trav was a little off sometimes. Then, I met Remi. Where the hell had he come from?

Putting the headphones back on, I tuned into his strange melodies. At some point, they’d grown on me, and I found myself looking up some of the songs to add to my playlist. They’d be a good way to pass the time on flights and bus rides when the season started.

The song ended right in the middle, and my head snapped up when “Let’s Get It On” came through the headphones. I met Remi’s eyes across the room. He bit his lip dramatically while he rolled his hips and stroked a pool cue.