That earned a small laugh from Evan, and CJ smiled. Making Evan laugh right now felt like a win.
“You love me.”
It wasn’t a question, but CJ answered anyway. “Well, yeah.” He shrugged. “I never stopped.”
Evan looked away, then back. “You couldn’t wait until the world wasn’t on fire to tell me?”
“I mean, in my defense, I wasn’t planning on saying it right now.”
Evan’s mouth twitched, but he didn’t reply, and CJ shifted his weight, feeling exposed.
“I didn’t mean to put you on the spot,” CJ continued quietly. “You don’t have to say it back just because I said it.”
“CJ,” Evan said softly. He took a step forward, closing the distance between them. “Shut up.”
Before CJ could come up with a response, Evan reached for him, his hand sliding to the side of his neck as he leaned in. The kiss started soft, but it was deliberate and certain. The world narrowed to Evan’s mouth against his, and CJ’s hands found Evan’s waist, pulling him closer until there wasn’t any space between them. Evan made a quiet sound and deepened the kiss, keeping it slow and unhurried like there was nothing else that mattered more. When they finally separated, Evan rested his forehead against CJ’s for a moment before pulling back to look at him.
“I love you too,” he said softly.
Evan’s words settled something inside CJ, and the tension he’d been holding seeped out of him. He leaned forward and wrapped his arms tightly around Evan’s shoulders, sighing when Evan’s arms wrapped around his waist to support some of his weight. “Thank you,” he whispered.
CJ didn’t know how long they stood like that, but he sighed when Evan pulled back.
“I hate the not-knowing,” he said softly. “I hate that we don’t know what’s going to happen.”
“Me too.” CJ reached for his hand again. “It’s probably going to get ugly.”
“Probably,” Evan agreed. Then, with a wry twist of his mouth, he added, “My mom already basically disowned me this morning, so we’re off to a great start.”
“Evan,” CJ breathed out, stunned.
Evan shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. Or, it does, but not right now. Not more than this.”
CJ’s chest tightened, and he wanted to ask questions. Wanted to know what happened. Wanted to be angry on his behalf. But Evan was standing here, choosing this moment, choosinghim, so CJ just squeezed his hand and said nothing.
“What if the team wants us to make a statement?” Evan asked quietly. “What if they want us to stay quiet? What if?—”
“What if they don’t?” CJ interrupted, and Evan blinked at him.
“What if they tell us to handle it however we want?” CJ continued. “What if our teammates don’t care? What if some of them already guessed? More than Rizzo. What if this doesn’t end the way we’ve spent years convincing ourselves it would?”
Evan was quiet. “I don’t know how to think like that.”
CJ understood. When he’d let himself imagine it before, every version of the future that he’d imagined with Evan had ended with them losing something. Whether it was each other, or baseball, or their families, it was always something.
“We’ll just have to figure it out as we go,” he said finally. “It probably won’t be easy, but it will be survivable, as long as I have you.”
“Yeah?” Evan sounded like he wanted to believe him.
“Yes,” CJ said decisively. “We don’t have to know how the next six months go. Or the six months after that. We just have to get through today.”
“And tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow too.”
“And after that?” Evan gave him a small smile.
CJ smiled back. “After that we keep showing up. Together.”
