Page 9 of Hiding in the Outfield

You’re getting me worried.

He would laugh like it was this big joke.

We’re good, strong American blood.

Real men.

I didn’t miss the way he watched me. The way he was trying to see past the thin wall I’d built and find the thing I was shoving further and further out of sight.

Any girls you’re into at school?

Did you see Jacob’s girl? She’s hot, right?

Look at the rack on that one, Jackson.

It was all I heard. Everywhere. The dinner table. In the car. Watching TV.

Over and over and over.

Until the night I broke. The night I finally brought a girl home. It might have been a fucking disaster, but it finally shut him the fuck up.

“The feeling’s mutual,” Jed says between clenched teeth, eyes burning into Dev. “I’m not the biggest fan of playing side by side with jackasses. But here we are.”

Yeah, Stone, me neither. I’m not a fan of living every day surrounded by them. Father. Brother. Mother. Friends. But here I am. This is the hell I was born into.

I’m just trying to survive.

FOUR

FRANKIE

April.

I sip my Campari and soda water. I close my eyes as the bitter taste rolls over my tongue. Divine. The team should be here soon. It’s a week into the season, and they’re really starting to come together. Maddy and Shelby are visiting for the weekend, and we all knew there was no way Paulie and Easton would go out with the team if they didn’t come out too.

“I don’t know how you and Paulie drink that.” Shelby wrinkles her nose.

She’s such an adorable little squirrel. And perfect for my brother. Sweet as pie, understatedly sassy. If my brother does anything to mess things up with her, I’ll cut him.

I swirl my glass, the red-orange liquid glinting in the low light of the sports bar. “First, I’m very limited with what I can get in an establishment like this.” Zingers is not my haunt of choice, but I always show up to support baby Nebs. “And I’ve been drinking this since I was a teen. It’s what Mom and Dad let us drink, and eventually, you just acquire a taste for it.” I’m fond of a Campari Spritz too, but those go down a little too easy.

The door of the bar opens, and the Clippers come pouring in. Can’t say I’m not hoping to set eyes on a certain broody, blue-eyed outfielder.

“Frankie is much too sophisticated for us,” Maddy says.

Speaking of broody men. “Please, Maddox. You want to pretend you’re a casual jock, but I know better. You like a fancy night out as much as the rest of us. I’ve seen your closet. I’m jealous of your shoe collection, and that’s saying something.”

He grins. “You know all my secrets.”

That I do. Like the secret that’s walking up to us right now.

“Paulie! Easton!” Shelby rushes forward and hurls herself at my brother. She plants a hard kiss on his lips, then attacks Easton. I don’t miss the way she accidentally pushes Easton into Maddy, enough that Maddy has to put his hands on Easton to steady him. I also don’t miss the way his fingers linger.

Maddy shakes his head and pulls back to greet Easton in typical bro fashion—that handshake they all do with the hug at the end. “Hey, man. Good game tonight.”

I take a sip of my drink and scan the players. It was a good game. Some incredible catches. I always enjoy a display of peak athleticism. A pair of blue eyes clashes with mine. And then I lose them because their owner trips. Maddox dives forward and catches him before he eats the bar floor.

I cover my smile behind my drink. I had my suspicions the first time I met Olander, but every interaction since has only solidified them. I make him nervous. And not in an I’m scared of gay men way.