Page 102 of Hiding in the Outfield

My fingers flex and bite into him.

He chuckles, but it’s flat. “Yeah, Jackie-babe. There’s a him.”

I’m scared to hear the rest. To ask the question. But I do because I’m pretty sure Frankie needs to get this out. Purge. “What’d he do to you, Frankie?”

He shrugs a shoulder, and his voice quivers when he finally speaks. “He loved me.”

I…don’t understand.

“He loved me for two years, Jackson. We were more than sex. Dates, laughter, conversation. Holidays. Met the family. I moved in with him.” His fingers ball into a fist over my stomach. “I lived with that man,” he spits out. “For nearly six months.”

I stiffen at the vehemence in his tone. I had no idea the flirty and breezy man tucked to my side could house such fury. But that’s just it, isn’t it? What we show the world isn’t even remotely close to what we hold inside. For my entire life, the world has seen me as a bigoted, probably brainless asshole. Inside? A lonely, fucking terrified, gay boy just wishing he could like boys and play baseball.

“What happened?” I ask hesitantly.

“Oh, you know. Found out he was married with a kid on the way—” He cuts off and clutches me.

I feel it all the way deep in my chest, those fingernails scoring the vulnerable parts that reside there. And then I erupt in flames. Flames of loathing and indignation and—God—fucking venom-soaked fury

“Fuck.” He buries his head into my chest and is as still as death.

I try to stay calm and just provide steady support, but I can’t imagine he doesn’t feel my chaotic heartbeat pounding into his face. I’m not a violent man, but this is the second time I’ve been compelled to harm a person on Frankie’s behalf. How I wished I landed a punch on Dev. Broken cheek for broken fucking cheek.

He finally lets out a breath and relaxes again. “Sorry,” he whispers. “He doesn’t matter to me anymore. And it really frustrates me when I let it get to me.”

“Hey.” I tilt his chin up. “Just because he doesn’t mean anything to you anymore, doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to hurt over what he did to you.” God, it’s so fucked up. On so many levels. Keeping Frankie his dirty little secret. Cheating on his wife. “So, um, what happened when you found out?”

“I spotted them in his office. And he saw me.” Frankie lets out a sharp laugh. “He had the fucking nerve to shake his head at me. A silent don’t say anything. Like fucking really? Like he deserved that? But I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t. Later that day he called me into his office, and we discussed.”

I frown. Called him into his office?

“Spewed all the stuff you’d expect a cheater to say to their sidepiece. He really loved me, but his wife fulfilled certain things that were expected of him. Said she was the same way, marrying him out of obligation. Their families went way back, apparently. I don’t know what was true.”

“Did you…did you stay with him?” I have a million questions. Like the fact that they seemed to work together?

“No.”

I let out a huge sigh.

“Don’t think too highly of me, darling. The only reason I didn’t was because of Pao Pao. I moved back home and was basically under house arrest. I couldn’t have snuck off to see him no matter how hard I tried—and I did try a couple of times. I was twenty-three and so gone for him. Looking back, I see it better for what it was. I was grasping for the fantasy, the fictional relationship he crafted. He was the first man to make me feel like I was important, that I meant something to him. Like I said, he loved me.” He pauses, then whispers, “And I was so desperate to be loved.”

Still am.

He doesn’t say it, but I hear it. In the aching thrum of his heart against my side, in the grasping way he clings to me, in the broken, sorrow-tinged breaths trembling over my skin.

“Um. So, you mentioned his office? It kind of sounded like you two worked together?”

Frankie blows out a huff of laughter. “Yes. He’s the manager of one of the client accounts I work on.”

I curse sharply. Holy fucking shit.

“That’s how he played up the secret. Office relationships were frowned upon, especially with a superior. He wanted to wait until he knew we were the real deal. Moving in together was going to be the final test—or so I thought. See, he shared his time between the Providence office and the San Francisco office. I was his honey on the side in Providence, and his wife lived in San Fran. I flew out for a meeting and wanted to surprise him. Had tickets purchased for a winery tour and everything. Early celebration of our two-year anniversary. I surprised him all right.”

“God, Frankie.” My words come out broken because I’m shattered.

I’m aware that evil exists in this world. I’ve seen it, hidden in its shadow like a coward. But I’d step out of the shadow a million times over if it meant protecting the man nestled into my side from it.

“It’s fine.”