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Chapter Twenty-one
Mike
“We’re going bowling with the fellas tomorrow night,” Manny told Mike as he took the seat beside him at the bar.
“I know that.” Mike threw back his shot of whiskey.
“So why’d you drag me out of my mancave tonight, then?” Manny waved his hand at Stoney for her to bring him the same as what Mike was having.
“I wanna talk to you about something.” Mike cleared his throat. “Someone.”
Manny waited for his drink, then thanked the bartender by adding a generous tip to his payment. They were regulars at this sports bar, so Stoney looked out for them as long as they took care of her.
“Would that someone happen to be that fancy-looking guy that’s using your gym membership and working at the Town Center location?”
Mike met Manny’s glare head-on. He wasn’t ashamed of wanting Rayne, and he’d never cower from anyone’s bigotry or prejudice. But he knew his best friend wasn’t like that; however, he couldn’t say the same for the rest of his crew. He had his ride-or-die guys who’d followed him when he left the motorcycle club, but he also had some newer guys he wasn’t one hundred percent about. He supposed he’d find that out tomorrow at company game night.
“Yeah… that’s him.” Mike waited and waited… and waited.
“Manny! The fuck? Say something!”
His best friend let loose a throaty chuckle as he signaled for another round. “What do you want me to say, Big Mike?”
“I don’t fuckin’ know,” he barked, throwing one hand up. “Say you get it, or say you’re cool with it… Say you wanna meet him, shit… just say something.”
Manny shook his head as he scrubbed his big hand over his beard. “All right. I get it, I’m cool with it, and yeah, I wanna meet him… something.”
“Fuck you,” Mike scoffed, his grin tilting up one side of his mouth. “You could at least act surprised.”
Stoney put their drinks down but didn’t bother giving them the bill as she hurried off to fill more orders. It was busy for a Friday night, and ordinarily Mike would avoid such a crowd and be home relaxing after such a long week, but he needed to be around someone who gave a shit about his life before he turned it upside down. His date with Rayne was in a couple of days.
“I am surprised.” Manny faced him, his dark brows dipping lower. “Surprised you’re finally going after what you really want. I’m sick of your lonely, pathetic ass taking up everyone’s Saturday nights.”
Mike sputtered around his Heineken. “Lonely? I never had a lack of bed partners, Man. And you do know that I just got out of a long-term thing a few months ago, right? So, what the hell are you talking about?”
“Yes. You’ve been with a lot of females, Mike, but how many of them did you even like? Like the way you liked Slick or the way you look at this tender-guy.”
Mike frowned. “Can you not call him tender-guy? His name is Rayne.”
Manny laughed. “He’s even got a tender name.”
“I swear to god.” Mike shoved his friend. “He’s all man, trust me.”
“I can see that, but shit…”
“What?” Mike barked.
“He’s freakishly good-looking.” Manny glanced around the packed bar that was almost full of men in their thirties to mid-fifties. “Everyone in here looks like a regular guy, Mike. Your guy looks like he’s from… fuck, I don’t know. Paris or some shit. If he walked through those doors right now, what do you think would happen?”
Everyone would pause, gawk, then admire. Mike tried not to wince. He wasn’t an insecure man, but anyone with eyes could see that Mike was going for the gold in the gay category when he’d just started playing on the team. “Yeah, I noticed.”
“Well, I don’t know why, but he sure as hell looks like he’s into you.” Manny was watching a baseball game and probably didn’t notice Mike’s eyes drilling a hole into the side of his head.
“How do you know?”
“Because I have damn eyes.” Manny shrugged, all nonchalant. “I know the look.”
Mike kept his excitement under a tight lock as a thrill of victory coursed through him.
