Page 17 of Challenge Me

Glancing at my cell, I groaned. It was just past noon. Six hours should’ve been plenty for me, but since I’d been woken up a few dozen times, it felt like I hadn’t closed my eyes. Maybe this was me finally facing the consequences of gaming into the early hours. It was the best time to catch Oli online, though, and Dean didn’t care if he stayed up on the weekend. The only time he got on his ass was when he had school the next day.

Deciding there was no more sleep coming my way, I threw off my blanket and jumped to my feet. I grabbed a hoodie off of my desk to get rid of the chill. Running the heat all night was a waste of money, so battling the February weather was a matter of bundling up at all times.

The phone rang again, and I considered throwing it in the sink. Like a responsible business owner, I stepped over my cot and left the office. With a yawn, I picked up the phone from its stand and brought it to my ear.

“This is Remi’s,” I answered cheerfully. “You’re speaking to Remi.”

“Hello, Remi,” a woman replied. “Do you happen to be the bartender there?”

Her voice was smooth, professional but with a hard edge. I leaned back against the counter while I tried to decide if I hated it. Voices like this one could be business-related. Or law-related. Not that I had to worry about that at this point in my life, but it put me on edge.

“I own and manage the bar, yes,” I said. “Who’s this?”

“My name’s Clara Kessler with the Athletic Spotlight.”

When I laughed, she cut off her next word. “Athletic Spotlight? Never heard of it and not interested.”

“Wait,” she replied quickly. “I cover Major League Baseball features. I was hoping to get a comment from you regarding an ongoing piece.”

“Look, lady, I don’t know the first thing about baseball. Not a sports guy at all, actually.” I paused, staring at the windows that were tinted to block out the light. There were some silhouettes outside, passing by as usual, but one stopped and tried to peer inside. “What does some sports piece have to do with me?”

“I’d love to explain,” she all but purred.

Gag.

“Well, get on with it. I bore easily.”

“Do you have some time for me to stop by?”

“Not for strangers, no.”

“You’re new to town, right? It could be good for your business. Being mentioned in one of my pieces is a pretty big deal.”

Ah, arrogance. How delicious. As delicious as an unwashed big toe.

“People talk,” she went on. “Things move to social media, especially among college-aged adults. Saucy stories are all the rage.”

“Saucy, eh?” I tapped my fingers on the counter while I thought about it. “Give me a hint, at least. How am I at all relevant to this story of yours?”

“Amir Darya.”

My mind conjured up images from two nights ago. Amir, face down, ass up on my pool table. Hungrily sucking down my dick. Shattering my control in a way that was far outside of normal for me.

Amir.

“Major League Baseball, huh?” I smiled as I looked over at the pool table, which had a distinct mark from his cum on the fabric. Did that make it a relic now? A tourist trap?

Of all the jobs the guy could have, I hadn’t expected that one.

*****

I wasn’t one for social media scrolling. Not in the slightest. It was the best way to rot your brain, and I didn’t care if I sounded like a Boomer by saying it. Oli hated it, too, and since he was working on his doctorate in psychology, I was inclined to trust his judgment.

But damn, how could I not be in the comment sections of these posts? There were four pictures associated with the article. I looked damn good in them, if I did say so myself. So did Amir.

Smoothie in hand, I walked with a little extra pep in my step. I didn’t give a damn about screwing someone with a bit of fame under their belt, but I had to admit that the discourse online was interesting. Amir, the sly dog, wasn’t known to be gay prior to this, although some people claimed they’d been wondering since he’d been hanging out with Travis McKinney lately, as if having a gay friend made you gay. People were idiots.

That guy was even more famous than Amir. Openly gay, nearly two million followers online, and last season he’d spectacularly taken the Braves through the World Series. There was a picture of him kissing a guy in the stands after, who I assumed was the boyfriend he’d been talking about. Roman, the one with the big dick.