Page 101 of Role Model

“You read my mind. Let’s go.”

They squeezed through the crowd, Harris pausing to smile and say hello to several people. Not for the first time, Troy wondered why Harris had invited him and not one of his many friends who wouldn’t stick out like a sore thumb. Unless this was a date, which it might be.

The bartender—a very attractive young man with dark hair and light brown skin—gripped Harris’s hand and pulled him in for an over-the-bar hug. “What’s up, Harris?”

“Not much. Looking forward to the show.”

“It’s going to be amazing,” the man agreed. Then he turned his attention to Troy. His gaze was blatantly assessing, and Troy had difficulty not squirming. “Who’s your friend?”

“This is Troy. He moved here from Toronto. Troy, this is Manu, a friend from college.”

Troy almost laughed at Harris’s dull description, but he was also grateful that he hadn’t mentioned his last name or that he played for the Centaurs. He shook hands with Manu. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too. Damn, Harris always gets the pretty ones.”

“No I don’t,” Harris scoffed. “I mean,” he glanced nervously at Troy, “we’re not togeth—”

“Always, huh?” Troy teased.

Harris blushed adorably. “I barely have time for dating! You know what my life is like. Manu is exaggerating.”

Manu laughed. “Whatever you say, Harris. What can I get you? Wait. Let me guess.”

“Drover Cider, please.”

“I don’t know why you pay for them here when you could get it for free.”

“Because I want to support my local economy,” Harris said with a grin.

“What about you?” Manu asked Troy.

Troy glanced at Harris. “Would you be mad if I ordered a beer?”

“Of course not. Do you like pilsners? My buddy Johnathan runs Portage Brewery and they make a killer pilsner.”

“Are you friends with everyone?”

Harris shrugged. “I like people and I’ve lived here my whole life.”

“Sure,” Troy said to Manu. “I’ll try one of the pilsners.”

Manu went to get their drinks, but not before a parting glance at Harris that seemed to say a lot of things Troy couldn’t translate. He recognized Harris’s bashful smile, though.

“Is this a date?” Troy blurted out.

Harris’s eyes went wide. “Huh?”

“You said you just had an extra ticket, but...is this a date?”

“Do you want it to be?”

Troy narrowed his eyes. “Do you want it to be?”

Harris leaned one elbow on the bar. “This game sucks. Let’s just be honest.”

“Okay,” Troy said, as if that were an easy thing to do.

“I’m trying to give you space, like you asked. But I lied about the ticket. I bought it for you. I want this to be a date.”