Page 2 of Challenge Me

When a new song came on, my nose wrinkled. I grabbed my phone and switched it quickly, which made someone groan. Too bad. I wasn’t about to let music drag me into bad memories with bad people in bad places. I’d already changed my number to stop my ex, Cole, from trying to contact me. He knew I was gone, but apparently, he wanted to keep his talons in me.

Again, not on my watch.

I hid the song to make sure it didn’t come up again, then turned around. At the same moment that a breeze came through the door, a scent wafted in. It was sharp and clean, a sting of citrus tangled with smoke and pepper. It cut through the beer and sanitizer from the towel, like a match struck in the darkness.

My gaze went to the entrance. A man walked in, then the one holding the door came after. I wasn’t sure which one the scent emanated from, and honestly, I didn’t care.

Although, the guy with the dark hair wrapped up behind his head had something that appealed to me. Maybe it was his face. Maybe it had to do with the energy around him—a little wild, a little cautious, a lot dangerous.

When they got closer, I took in his dark eyes against his bronze skin. It was hard to tell since his hair was in a bun, but I was pretty sure it had some waves in it. As he leaned his elbow on the counter, I inhaled. Definitely him.

Odin grant me strength.

“Hey, man,” the other guy said in a bit of a southern drawl. There was a crooked smile on his face, but now that I’d given Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome my stamp of approval, the accent didn’t make my heart flutter like it would’ve otherwise. That wasn’t to say he didn’t have the face a poet could only dream of.

I casually leaned my hands on the counter. “What can I get started for you two?”

“I’ll have a whiskey,” the darker-haired man said. He smiled at me, less exuberantly than his friend.

“Same for me.”

“No original thoughts in that head, Trav?”

Trav laughed. “I’m fueled by deadly doses of caffeine and dumb memes. You know that.”

“And brooding artists with sharp jaws.”

“Oh, come on, Amir. Don’t sell him short. Roman has a big dick, too.”

I pursed my lips to keep from laughing while I poured the drinks.

Gay but taken. That cut my chances in half.

No, I wasn’t looking. No dating for me. Oli checked in on that front way too often and had set a new rule after my repeated debacles with Cole, and maybe some others: He got to vet every one of my prospects. He may have been a couple years younger than me, but I couldn’t deny that he was a better judge of character by a long shot.

The question was: Would I listen to him? We’d see how things went. And how desperate I got.

I set the whiskeys in front of them. “Here you go.”

They took a seat at the bar, and I tried not to look too satisfied about it. Sure, they were both hot as hell, but they also seemed fun to listen to. Gods knew I could use the entertainment to get through these long shifts.

“That him?” Amir asked, looking at Trav’s phone that buzzed on the counter. When Trav spun it toward him, Amir smiled around his glass. “Looks like Tessa likes her new stepdad. You made a good choice. Although, it was looking spotty there for a minute.”

“Ah, what do you know? You were just on the sidelines.”

“But I was watching.”

As Trav responded, Amir’s eyes found mine. Not interested in apologizing for listening in, I smiled at him. Instead of returning it, he looked at Trav again, nodding along as he went on about baseball. I knew next to nothing about the sport, so I tuned out.

As I buzzed around the bar, I occasionally glanced over at the two men. They stood out, like they didn’t belong in my humble bar. It was a nice place, but I hadn’t gone for the modern vibe that everyone else was obsessed with. Remi’s boasted a more classic look, maybe to match the immortal appeal of the university, or maybe because I believed Millennial Grey needed to die a painful death and fade away into obscurity.

Around here, deep green walls pulled you in while the warm gleam of brass fixtures caught the light and made it feel both dark and well-lit. Velvet seating gave the place a speakeasy edge, along with the recessed tiles of the ceiling. With just the right amount of exposed brick, the bar had character and carried the faint memory of smoke and laughter from decades ago. Shadows felt thicker and conversations became atmospheric, inviting the people who came here to stay longer.

At least, that was my vision for it. In reality, people seemed mildly intrigued by it, then they got drunk and spilled things on my marble-inspired floors.

It came with the territory.

As I took an empty cup from one of the tables, a wispy guy there looked me up and down. He bit his lip, almost like he was nervous.