“Twenty-three.”
“Fuck.” I whistled.
“Don’t do that.” Bishop cut his eyes at me even though he was grinning. “You don’t look too much older yourself.”
“Yeah. Well, I have a good five years on you, kid.”
“Kid?” he repeated. “That’s funny.”
“Thanks.” I shrugged. “I aim to please.”
“You seem like the type.”
Bishop and I held each other's gazes for a few moments. Neither of us spoke. We just breathed. Each of us was trying to read the other. I exhaled and rearranged the way I was sitting.
“I heard something else about you too,” I confessed.
“Alright. Let’s hear it.” Bishop leaned back in his seat, “I’m pretty sure I know where you’re going with this anyway.”
“Yeah? Where do you think I’m going with it?”
“You want to know if I’m straight, right?”
“Yeah.” I didn’t hesitate. “I do.”
“Does it matter?”
“I’d like to know if you and your brothers are going to shoot at me if I flirt with you so yeah, it’s pretty fucking important.”
“You want to flirt with me now, Asante?”
“Depending on how you answer the question.”
Bishop exhaled and leaned back in his chair. “Yeah,” was all he said.
I nodded at that. “Me too.”
“You in the closet?”
“Because I had a wife?” I chuckled. “Nah. I’m bisexual. I’ve never been anything else. I’ve never claimed to be anything else. I never will.” I locked eyes with him. “What about you?”
“That closest is fucking glass at this point.” He shrugged. “I don’t confirm and I don’t deny. I just do whatever feels right.”
“And your family?”
“My twin supports me. My other brothers act like they don’t know what’s happening so,” he shrugged.
I exhaled. “You want a drink, Bishop?”
“I probably shouldn’t.” He sat up and pushed up from his seat.
“That’s not what I asked you.”
“I heard what you asked me.”
“Then answer the question I presented.”
Bishop snickered and shook his head. “What do you have?”
