Chapter 9
Amir
I’d hoped to go through a lot more questions on the plane, but Remi had tuned me out. Despite him throwing away the cards, I remembered a lot of them. Yet, as I parked the rental car, I thought about what he’d said and wondered if he was right.
Was I treating him like a data set, just letters and numbers plugged into the right positions to suit my purposes?
At the same time, I knew he was using me, too. That was the entire nature of this relationship. It was a quid pro quo, with me effectively becoming a weird sugar daddy to save some perceived reputation.
Did it matter in the long run? In my mind it did.
I kept Mal off the Internet as much as I could without it being considered child abuse in the modern world.
But everything that got posted about me affected her in one way or another.
Someday, she could see the pictures and the claims they made about me.
Clara had the nerve to insinuate that I might have messed around behind Avery’s back, leading to our eventual divorce.
Keeping the details under wraps this whole time turned out to be a double-edged sword that left a lot to speculation.
I scanned the keycard that let me into the building where I’d rented a short-term apartment.
As we rode the elevator up to the eleventh floor, I turned to face Remi.
His eyes briefly flashed to me, then he returned them to the front.
It felt purposeful. He still wore those damn headphones, but I was certain he could hear me.
“Can you take those off?”
He tapped his fingers on his thighs and swayed softly while he sang something I didn’t recognize—something about tame, middle-class demons. Done with his games, I grabbed the headphones and put them around my neck. He didn’t seem happy about it, but I wasn’t sure what else he expected to happen.
The doors opened and I stepped out, then waited until he followed. There was something contrarian about Remi, and it made me wonder if I needed to attach a leash to him so he wouldn’t park his ass somewhere and refuse to move when he was annoyed.
“Why’d you say no to Clara?” I asked as I walked down the hall.
“We’ve gone over this.”
“Yeah, but you were ready to drag me through the mud. Why are you willing to change your tune? What are you actually getting out of it?”
“I told you, I just want to get out of town. Live it up in your fancy lifestyle for a bit.” He gestured around with both hands and spun in a circle. “I do expect a shopping spree or two, if I’m being honest.”
“Hm. And here I thought”—or hoped—”you were being a little selfless.”
He laughed dryly. “Nobody’s selfless. The sooner you figure that out, the better off you’ll be. Trust me.”
“I don’t.”
“Good. You’re learning.”
It was hard not to frown as I unlocked the door.
Even though it was na?ve, I’d still been trying to give him the benefit of the doubt.
But there was no trace of that spark I’d been consumed by at the bar, the one that convinced me to stay a little longer, over and over again until I was naked on that pool table.
This was a business transaction. As long as I went into it with that mindset, the boundaries were perfectly clear. And something told me he would have no trouble playing his part.
“I’m going to shower,” I said, tossing the keys on the kitchen counter. “Wash the recycled air off of me.”
Remi set his boots beside the door. He looked around the place with a blank expression, from the vaulted ceilings to the large window overlooking the city, then the white sectional, and finally, the gourmet kitchen. When his eyes met mine, I couldn’t read what was in them.
“Did you hear me?”
His expression shifted to his usual smirk. “Can I join?”
“No.”
“Boyfriends are allowed to see each other naked, you know.”
“Boyfriends out there, business partners in here.”
His nose wrinkled. “That’s very unsexy.”
I made it a point to check him out from top to bottom. “Good. That’s how I want it.”
“Mmhmm.” He eyed me like he didn’t believe it.
I stopped at the door to the master bedroom and turned around. “I’ll be going out later. Can I trust you here by yourself?”
“Bro, I’m not a teenager.”
“You seem like you’d throw a party. Or get drunk and trash the place.”
“You think I’m an alcoholic or something?”
“You live in a bar.”
“By choice.” He tilted his head and scrunched his face. “Mostly.”
“Right. Glad we cleared that up.”
He dropped onto the couch and spread his arms across the back of it. “Where are we going?”
“I said me, not us.”
“Where?” he repeated with a note of impatience.
“Just a bar with some guys from a few of the teams. Seriously, you’re better off staying here.”
His contemplative expression made me groan.
“Will there be other boyfriends or girlfriends there?”
“Maybe,” I admitted reluctantly.
He jumped to his feet and slowly padded over to me. Contrary to the logical side of me, my heart beat faster.
Remi put two fingers under my chin and tilted my face up. “You want me to play a part, so I’m going to play it. This doesn’t work if you leave me behind. God forbid that Kessler woman decides you’re abusive or something, hiding me away and all that.”
I jerked my head away. “That’s ridiculous.”
“That’s why she’d love it. So, Amir, like it or not, I’ll be where you are. Practice? I’m there. Games? Number one fan. You can dedicate a three-pointer to me.”
“That’s basketball.”
“Throw it, kick it, smash it with a stick. It’s all just sweaty men chasing balls, swinging dick.”
“Is that supposed to be a poem?”
He shrugged. “You put me on the spot.”
It was impossible not to laugh. “Okay, fine. You should shower. In your bathroom.”
I closed the bedroom door behind me and took an extra second to make sure it was locked.
“Chasing balls, swinging dick,” I repeated to myself as I undressed. What a fucking madman.
*****
“And you said Jeffrey is the one missing a pinky,” Remi confirmed. “How does he throw a ball?”
“It’s his catching hand. He’ll tell you all about it.”
“Prepare me. I hate surprises.”
I smiled as we walked up to the bar. He was smoking a cigarette, so I stepped off to the side to give him another minute.
“Long story short, Everclear and fireworks don’t mix, especially when grown men are shooting them at each other. I doubt he learned anything from it, though.”
Remi dropped his head back and laughed. Like that, his Adam’s apple was prominent, the column of his throat bared to me. When he leveled his gaze with mine, he perched the cigarette between his lips. The habit didn’t appeal to me, but some people had a way of making it look seductive.
“Who else?” he asked.
“Trav and Roman.”
He lit up. “Oh, good. Names I’m familiar with.”
“Roman’s only recently out, so try not to make him uncomfortable.”
“You’re only recently out too.”
“Like I said before, I’ve never been scared of being gay. I was just navigating it once I figured out that I was. There were a couple more complications for me to consider.”
“Yeah, I get it.”
“What about you? You have a coming out story?”
Something about it made him laugh as he blew out smoke. “No, not really. I never hid that I was gay, but I didn’t announce it either. Not until I was sixteen.”
“What happened at sixteen?”
“Freedom.” He snubbed out the cigarette and dropped it into the receptacle. “Ready, baby?”
“Don’t do that.”
He smiled in a way that was far too warm. Too mature. In his signature flannel, he was picturesque. “I’m in boyfriend mode. I’m generally horrible at it, but I’ll do my best.”
“Well,” I said, ignoring his outstretched hand, “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
It wasn’t as awkward as I thought it would be to walk into the bar.
Most of the guys were already seated at a table, talking and laughing like always.
We didn’t get together often, but spring training always started off with us intermingling, regardless of team affiliation. Healthy competition and all that.
Jeffrey spotted us first and lifted his four-fingered hand in a wave. Everyone else followed suit. A couple of them whistled or made inappropriate remarks, but I ignored them.
Trav jumped to his feet and wrapped me in a hug.
“Hey,” I said. “Missing Georgia yet?”
He laughed the too-loud laugh that was unique to him. “If I ever miss Georgia, you’ll have to drag me out and stage an intervention.”
“It’s not bad,” Roman countered beside him. His dark hair had grown longer, brushing his temples with a soft wave that framed his sharp cheekbones. In a t-shirt, biceps on display, he was pretty damn intimidating at first glance. “The scenery is beautiful.”
“That’s because you draw it, and you make everything spectacular.”
“I’m just saying, it’s nice to look at, at least.”
“Speaking of nice to look at.” Trav turned his attention to Remi and held his hand out. Remi took it, and I could tell that his grip was firm. “We never officially met. I’m Trav.”
“Travis McKinney,” Remi said. “Star pitcher and poster-child for the Braves. Fastest throw on record was a ninety-seven. You have a massive online following after blowing up with your conversion camp story.” When Trav’s eyes widened, Remi smiled.
“I did my homework. Seriously, I have hella respect for everything you stand for.”
“Thanks, man. That means a lot.”
Leaning close to Remi, I dropped my voice low. “Overkill, don’t you think?”
He tipped his head to whisper directly in my ear. “Subjective. I’d say it’s just right.”
Trav’s attention was on us, so I refrained from rolling my eyes.
“You’re Roman,” Remi went on. “An artist for the ages, according to Amir. Big dick, according to Trav.”
Roman choked out an awkward laugh and shot a scandalized look at his boyfriend.
“Let’s get a drink,” I suggested.
“I’ll grab it,” Remi offered. “Whiskey?”
“Sure.” I waited for him to leave, but instead, he leaned down. My eyes widened before his lips met mine. His hand went to the back of my head and held me to him for a long moment, then he was off. Turning to walk backward, he winked at me.
“He seems fun,” Roman said.
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Fighting already?” Trav teased.
“Things are fine, then they’re awkward, then infuriating. I don’t even know if it’s him or me.”
“Maybe you should be more fun.”
I laughed as we returned to the table. “Fun is my specialty.”
“How’d you connect before?” Roman asked.
I grimaced, which made them share a look. “I’m not going to do that,” I said to shut down what they clearly wanted to say. “The last thing I need is something complicated.”
“Did life feel like it made sense for the first time when it happened?”
I looked at Roman, and similarly to when I’d met him, there was a flicker of connection. It wasn’t romantic now, just a shared experience that could be felt.
“Sort of,” I admitted. “I wasn’t fighting it, but . . .”
My gaze drifted to where Remi was talking to the bartender. He appeared casual, like he was at home here. Again, I wondered what drove him, not only professionally but also day-to-day.
“It did feel easy. The nerves were there, then it all just happened. I don’t think it was him,” I added. “More like I finally felt this catharsis that I had never felt, you know?”
“Yeah, I know.”
I offered him a lighthearted smile. “One day, I’ll get something like you two have. For now, let’s have some fun.”
Remi came back and set a drink in front of me, and I clinked glasses with each of the guys. Within minutes, the weight of the past week melted away, and I was just a man readying myself for a long season with this group of both competitors and friends.