Page 70 of Mr. Charming

Tweetie is right, though. I noticed it when I started doing his socials in Florida. He was so easy to deal with because he always wanted to explore the city and take pictures in obscure places. People feel as though he’s their friend. Sometimes they think they’re more than his friend, unfortunately.

“I can grab some pictures if you want.” I offer, but I don’t want Decker to feel forced.

Easton raises his eyebrows in a challenge. Just like at the hockey rink, Decker stands. Can none of these men not have something to prove when they’re challenged?

“I’m in,” Decker says.

“We got one, Gwen!” Tweetie puts his arm around Decker’s shoulders and walks them over to the table at the front of the bar.

I pull out my phone.

“This is interesting,” Henry says with no other explanation.

I ask a table in front if I can borrow a chair they’re not using.

It’s Tweetie and Decker, one other guy, and a young girl.

Before the contest even starts, everyone is cheering for someone at the front, and our table is no different. I’ve never seen Tweetie lose any competition he’s entered, so this should be interesting.

The taller middle-aged woman with jet black hair gets on the microphone. “Okay, we’re gonna start you off with something mild. Just to get your palates wet.”

A young kid comes by and places a wing in front of each contender.

“You have ranch or blue cheese in front of you if you want and some water. If you grab the glass of milk in front of you, you’re eliminated. You have one minute to eat each wing. Everyone understand?”

They all nod.

“Ready. Set. Go.”

Everyone cheers, and Tweetie and Decker each pick up their wing, both finishing it in way under a minute.

We go through three more rounds, and everyone is still in.

“Way to go, you two at the end, competing with a pro hockey player and a pro baseball player. Impressive.” Gwen puts her hand on Tweetie’s shoulder, and I want to roll my eyes, because of course she does.

I set my phone to video to film a clip.

“This is where we find out who has hair on their chest.” She looks at the one female at the table and winks at her. “Sorry, sweetie.”

The young kid dishing out the wings puts one down that just looks spicy. The guy next to Decker starts off well, finishing the wing before he blows out his breath as sweat beads on his forehead.

“You can do it, Dad!” a kid shouts from behind me.

“Yeah, Phil!” a woman shouts.

Phil looks as though he’s going to pass out. He tries the water, but you can see that gives him no relief. Somehow, he stays in, and Gwen keeps it going.

I will say whoever picked her to do this contest, they did well. She gets the crowd going. And I’m all Team Gwen until she stops the contest to ask them all personal questions.

She goes to the young girl first. “Tell us why you came out today on this cold Chicago evening.”

The girl says she’s here with her family, who came to see her at college. They all hoot and holler for the school she attends.

Next is Phil, who answers that he’s here with his family to celebrate his wife’s birthday. Gwen gives him a little hell for ruining her night when he’s throwing up later and she’s eating her birthday cake alone.

Then it’s Decker’s turn.

“And you. Is one of those special ladies yours?” She points toward our table.

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