Page 198 of Challenge Me

“Can you go back on it? Tell them it was impulsive. You didn’t mean it.”

“Hey,” he laughed. “I’m not taking anything back. Not the video and not the ring.”

“No more baseball?”

“No more baseball. Now, if it’s alright with you, can I finish asking you to marry me?”

Not sure what to say, I nodded. He lowered to one knee, and it felt like just as much of a shock the second time.

“Remi, I know it’s only been five months, but I’ve got to say—”

“Yes.”

“But I—”

Dropping into a crouch, I dragged him closer by the back of his neck. When our lips met, the few people that were in the bar cheered. Amir grunted when I knocked him onto his ass. Settling on my knees in front of him, I ran my fingers over his stubble and kissed him harder.

“So,” he murmured as his lips curved. “Yes?”

“Are you fucking insane? Of course I’m saying yes.”

“I thought this would be harder.”

“My soul abandoned me all over again once I left you. Why the hell would I deny it the only thing that’s ever made it leave its perch in hell?”

“You’re something else.”

I pressed my thumb against his lower lip. “It feels wrong that you’re leaving everything behind.”

“Everything? No, it’s only a fraction of what this life holds for me. I’ve spent ten years playing baseball. I think it’s time for a new chapter.”

“How are you going to survive?”

“All the shit I own is paid off. I have enough money put away to retire more than comfortably. Plus”—he looked around the bar—”I could always get in on the family business.”

I decided not to remind him how he’d dropped three drinks the one and only time I’d tried to teach him how to bartend.

Looking down, I watched as he slid the ring onto my finger. It fit perfectly, like it had been woven by the fates themselves.

A booming voice drew our attention to the door as we got to our feet. It swung open, and Trav strode in. He waved one hand in the air while he held his phone up in front of him. He looked a bit . . . off his rocker. I wondered if the guy had ever heard of Adderall.

“Well, this is it, y’all,” he said far too loudly for the space. “Remi’s. It’s something, I’ll tell ya. When I first came here, I knew that it was going to be part of my timeline. Don’t ask me how. I just did. Now, I know most of my fans have no connections to the league or sports at all, but I’m going to address those with shared interests real quick. For my lovely PR team”—he scrunched his face in a fake and downright condescending smile—”you might want to log off right quick so you don’t have a stroke. I’ve never made it easy for you before, and I don’t plan on starting now.

“Fellow men of the league, listen up.” He slammed his fist against his chest. “No matter what team we’re on or what sport we play, we are brothers, united against the forces of evil that infiltrate our fields.”

“Hear, hear,” Amir chimed in.

Trav smiled, still looking at the camera. “They come and infect our stadiums. Our press rooms. Our goddamn locker rooms, even—looking at you, Tony. But those who have honor, I implore you all to stand in solidarity with our fallen brother.”

He turned so the camera caught us behind him as he stretched his arm out toward Amir.

“And to Clara Kessler.” His voice turned downright demonic, then he tutted like he was disappointed. “I have already disavowed you, but you can bet your ass that I won’t be the only one anymore. Actually—”

He lifted himself onto the pool table. Lying back, he hung his legs over the side and swung them back and forth while he held the phone above him.

“I’m going to make an offer to The Athletic Spotlight. Sack that vile woman within forty-eight hours—make it twenty-four—and I’ll do an exclusive interview with you. That’s right. Travis McKinney will appear on your show for the first time ever, as long as you do the right thing and stand against hatred and harassment, because that’s exactly what she represents. I won’t stand for it. Not in the year of our lord 2025.”

“Is this a fever dream?” I muttered.