Chapter 15
Remi
O pale fire clothed in mortal guise,
Your gaze unmakes the night’s disguise.
I crawl to drink the ash you leave;
A dog of hunger, taught to grieve.
My jaw ached like I’d been sucking dick for an hour. I was on my third piece of gum, both to occupy myself and ease the tension. Fat lot of good it did me.
We were in the top of the fifth, and I had no clue when Amir would be at bat again.
Trav was on the pitcher’s mound, which was a sight to see.
He had aura out there. I could feel the ripple that went through the crowd as soon as he stepped out.
It was probably a residual effect of the long battle between the Braves and Red Sox last season. It felt like some sort of revival.
Before his first pitch, Trav glanced at Roman.
There was a barely restrained smile on his face as he ducked his head.
My mouth dropped open when the ball crossed the plate, faster than I could track.
I couldn’t imagine getting struck with that damn missile.
There was no way I’d be able to hit it, that was for sure.
I reread the message Amir had sent me earlier. Avery didn’t know about the ruse, and I was supposed to refrain from saying anything stupid. That was sort of offensive, but if I was in his shoes, I’d feel the same.
“So, I hear you have a bar,” Avery said, breaking our long silence.
I turned partially to face her and smiled. “I sure do. It’s called Remi’s.”
“How’d you come up with that?”
I couldn’t tell if she was being funny or snide.
Her icy blue eyes were oddly intimidating, and even though she appeared polite, it was hard to know what she was really thinking.
Maybe she resented my existence. It had been a little while since the divorce, but that didn’t mean things were peachy.
These two had been high school sweethearts, each other’s one and only.
It was a lovely but wild concept to me, especially given the context.
“I Googled ‘best names for a bar’ and went with the number one listing,” I replied.
Her lips curved, but her eyes remained the same. “At least it’s easy to remember.”
“Yeah, I only forget my name if I sample too much of the debaucherous liquid.”
“Is that what happened when you were photographed with Amir?”
Her question amused me more than anything. I wasn’t an expert at reading people, but I could detect hostility from a mile away. And that wasn’t what I heard in Avery’s voice.
Her probing wasn’t undercut by a sinister grace like Clara or the lineup of foster parents in my past or the various social workers I’d run through.
Most of them gave up at a certain point when they realized the system was hopeless—rigged, even.
Then there were the ones who truly had never given a damn but enjoyed the power dynamics.
If I were to give her the benefit of the doubt, I’d say that Avery was just a wife who had been caught off guard and lost her husband a year and a half ago.
She was a mother who was probably still adjusting to whatever dynamic she had with her broken family.
And I was the guy she’d heard about in one of the worst ways only a few weeks ago.
Until I knew more, I’d give her a little grace. On the house.
“I’ve been completely sober every time I’m with Amir,” I said seriously. “Otherwise, I’d likely miss something important.”
“Like what?”
“One of those dad jokes he’s never actually blessed me with. Does he have them?”
Avery bit her bottom lip as she watched the players trading places on the field. “He makes a few, but he’s really not the sappy type. Amir prefers to be pretty laid back, as long as baseball isn’t involved. As you know, of course.”
“Of course. Although, sometimes he just needs a little push in order to get him going. Calling him boring, for instance.”
A small laugh escaped her, delicate and probably lovely to those looking for such things. “I would never call him boring.”
“I did.” When she lifted a brow, I laughed. “He’s fun to tease.”
She hummed, though I wasn’t sure if it was acknowledgement or agreement.
It didn’t appear that she’d expand on it, either, so I turned my attention to Roman and Mal.
He went back and forth between watching the game and drawing.
It made me wonder if he did anything else with his life when Trav wasn’t around.
Maybe even when he was around. I understood having a passion, but damn, I’d burn myself out the way he was going.
Feeling eyes on me, I shifted my gaze to his right, but Mal was staring at the field.
We were halfway through the inning, and Amir was guarding third.
It was cute the way he was completely focused, even as his family and his fake boyfriend—who had given him a very real public hand job—experienced an awkward collision up here.
As I stared at him, shifting his weight back and forth patiently, my mind returned to that locker room. For a moment, I’d had him in my pocket. Then, he’d flipped it around without taking a moment to breathe.
That date was unlikely to happen now. I may have traded one nightmare for another, but I actually preferred this one.
“Mal,” Avery said. “Let’s go to the restroom before Dad’s team bats again.”
“I don’t need to,” Mal replied.
“Well . . .” Avery looked from her daughter to the stairs, but Mal wasn’t paying attention to her.
“She can stay here,” I offered. When it was clear she didn’t like that idea, I glanced at Roman.
He smiled warmly at her. “Don’t worry. We’re not moving a muscle.”
“And there are many of them to move,” I added. The joke didn’t land, and I followed it up with an awkward laugh.
Apparently taking Roman at his word, rather than my cringey ass, Avery dipped her head, then turned to exit the aisle.
“Travis would make a joke that you just struck out,” Roman noted.
“Thanks, dickhole. That’s nice of you.”
“I’m not Travis. What I want to say is less . . . kind.”
“I’m impossible to offend, so take your swing.”
“You might not be trying hard enough. Your face can’t make up for your lack of a personality, you know.”
I snorted. “Yeah, yeah, base bunny. I hope Amir cracks that ball right into your boyfriend’s noggin. Might jumpstart his last few brain cells so he can get a real career.”
“Like a bartender?”
“Even your boyfriend’s eleven million couldn’t get me to sell out on my passion.”
One side of his mouth lifted. “You should stop Googling people. It’s creepy.”
“Gotta have a leg up when I’m throwing myself in among men who are leagues above me.”
With a wink, I slid past him. He said my name, and I evaded him when he tried to stop me. I plopped myself right beside Mal, then angled my head, mockingly inconspicuous.
I was surprised to find that she wasn’t drawing anymore. Instead, she was writing—in cursive, which was both dope and weird. She’d filled almost the entire page, and even though I wanted to read it, I refrained.
“Hey, Mal. I’m Remi.”
Roman watched us with his lips pulled to the side. Sure, I was pushing some boundaries here, but I thought it was more rude for me to act like she didn’t exist. Then again, that was exactly what she was doing.
“I’m a friend of your dad’s,” I went on, playing it as casual as I could manage.
When she remained silent, I glanced at Roman again. This time, he seemed amused.
“You’ve got some hella cool hobbies,” I said. “I used to carry a notebook everywhere, too, you know.” Silence, the evil bastard. “Although, I wasn’t writing stories as much as I was imagining it was a Death Note. Maybe you’re doing that too. Should I start calling you Kira?”
Roman snorted when Mal refused to say anything. She’d been pretty quiet since getting here, but I’d heard her exchange words with him enough to surmise that I was dropping the ball off the peak of Mt. Everest. Might as well take the damn thing to orbit.
“Do you like poetry? Ahem. Okay, uh, let’s see .
. . I once met a girl who could draw any car, with wheels so round they could roll clear to Mars.
I’d draw, too, you know, but my stick men are tragic, so I stick to bad poems and, uh, emotional .
. . magic?” I breathed a laugh and ran a hand through my hair.
“Anyway, you’re probably way cooler than me, like a little Valkyrie or something. ”
Gazing out at Amir, I questioned, not for the first time, what right I had to be here.
It was temporary, sure, but the details were getting muddled along the way.
We’d pretty steadily barreled into the complicated zone.
Now, I was in a situation I was never meant to be in—a situation that, by his own admission, he didn’t want me in.
“Boyfriend.”
I blinked, letting the world come back into focus as I looked down at Mal. “What?”
She flipped to a fresh page and started to draw. It wasn’t as smooth or quick as Roman’s hand, but things began to take shape. There were two simple figures, one of them with chin-length hair and the other with a ball cap on his head. I glanced at Amir, then back at the paper.
“Is that, uh, me? And your dad?” I felt dread rise in my stomach as I pointed to something my figure was holding. It looked like an upside-down flag perched on the ground. “What’s that?”
Silently, she made a half-circle, like a mound in front of me.
She wrote the letters Au inside it, then tore out the paper and set it on my lap before she pulled away quickly.
I stared at the picture, not entirely sure what I was looking at.
She hadn’t said more than a word to me, but it felt like she’d communicated a hell of a lot more.
When I saw Avery coming down the aisle, I returned to my seat, still holding the paper. I looked at Roman, but he shrugged. So much for his artistic eye or whatever.
He leaned forward and angled himself so he could see Avery better. “So, how long are you guys staying in Florida?”
“Only through tomorrow,” she replied. “I have class on Monday.”
I tried to recall what she taught at the college. Some sort of science.
“Where are you staying?” I asked.
Her blue eyes flicked to me, then toward the field.
“A hotel down the road from Amir’s rental.
Mal will want to be at his door bright and early.
Although . . .” Her lips thinned for a moment before she smoothed her expression, polishing it up so quickly that it was plain to see she was an expert at appearances.
“We’ll probably go straight to the field so that we won’t be a bother. ”
Because of me. That part was clear as day, even if she was graceful about it.
“If his family was going to be a bother to me, I’d have no right being in his life,” I said.
For the first time, I saw a flicker of surprise cross her face.
Deciding to latch onto the crack in her defenses, I went on.
“Actually, you two might as well take the second room for the night. That way, they can see each other as soon as they wake up.”
“Oh, that’s a very kind offer, but it’s unnecessary.”
“I disagree. There’s no point wasting money on a hotel. Besides, a parent’s bond with their child is the most important thing in this world, if you ask me. Life’s fleeting. You have to squeeze out every last bit of it before it’s gone.”
“Are we still talking about a room?” Roman asked.
I kicked his ankle but waited patiently for Avery to answer. I knew very well that I’d dug myself a grave fit for Fenrir himself, but I’d adapted to roll with the punches.
“Alright.” Avery nodded slowly. “Mal would prefer it, I’m sure.”
“Yes,” she replied without looking away from the field where her dad was parked on second base, waiting for his chance to take off for the next one.
I smiled while my stomach went haywire. “It’s settled, then.”
Avery’s demeanor softened, but before I could get too comfortable, her eyes went to the drawing and her lips parted. After a second, they turned down in a frown.
“I might put it on the fridge,” I said quickly. From the look on her face, I worried things were about to devolve again, and just after I’d made some headway.
“You don’t need to pretend. It’s better if Amir doesn’t see it anyway.”
Her response made me want to rush to the girl’s defense. “I’m very sure that he’s proud of everything she makes.”
She gave me a look that told me I was a bit of a dunce. Her finger touched the letters briefly. “It’s gold.”
I stared at the picture, trying to see it with new eyes.
The upside-down flag, which wasn’t a flag at all.
The mound. And Au. I was never very good at science, so I’d cheated my way through my gen ed courses and never looked back.
The jab would’ve gone right over my head all because I was business-minded.
“Ah,” I said as realization came over me. “That’s kind of funny.”
“I’m sorry. Everything is new and . . . different.”
“Seriously, it’s clever.” Getting to my feet, I folded the picture and stuffed it into my pocket. “Can I grab you something? Ice cream? Hot dog? A beer?”
“Popcorn, if you don’t mind. Thank you, Remi.”
I dipped my head, then looked at Roman. “I need your hands. Don’t worry, I’ll get you a treat on me.”
“On you, huh?” He stood and followed me out of the row.
Once we were in a concession line, I let out a groan. “What the hell have I done?”
“I think you’re doing alright.”
“Mal called me a gold digger. A gold digger, bro.”
“I thought you couldn’t be offended.”
“This is my boyfriend’s kid. She’s supposed to like me.”
“But he’s not your boyfriend.”
“Well, for all intents and purposes, blah, blah, blah.” I crossed my arms and dug my fingers into my sides. “Ah, fuck me. He’ll probably call everything off as soon as the game’s over.”
“Aw, you care.” When I shot him a glare, he burst into laughter. “Come on, man. You’re smitten. It’s obvious.”
“What are you, a matchmaker?”
“Not even close. I make a mess of most things I touch, but if you need one, I can introduce you to my friends.”
“I don’t want to meet your damn friends.”
“Good call. They’re insufferable.”
“Sounds like you need new ones. Luckily for you, I’m in need of a favor.”
“How is that lucky for me?”
My lips curved. “It means I’ll owe you. Once two men do a favor for each other, they form an unbreakable bond, didn’t you know?”
“Sounds gay, honestly.” I smacked him in the arm, breaking his serious expression. “Fine. What do you need?”
I tossed my keys at him, and he barely caught them. “A covert operation. The most important of your lifetime. Come out the other side successfully and you’ll have free drinks for life at Remi’s.”
“Goddamn, you’re dramatic. Almost as bad as West, if you added a bucket of immaturity to the mix.”
“Hey, I met a West once. Dude had a mouthful of blood and a killer smile. I admired the hell out of him for a split second.”
“Weird. The name must be cursed.”
“Must be.”