Page 103 of Hiding in the Outfield

We both know it’s not.

“But that solidified it for me. I was done, Jackson. I couldn’t—can’t—go through that again. I swore off relationships. Frankie was for fun only.” His fingers shake where they trace down the center of my abs. His gaze flicks to mine. “I was never getting attached and risking that kind of pain again.

My heart falters, and my lungs stall. “Was?”

He sniffs, red-rimmed brown eyes glassy. “I’ve gone and done it again.”

“What have you done?” I say in a hoarse whisper.

“I’ve fallen in love with you.”

Everything stops.

“I’m in love with you, and it hurts so fucking much.”

THIRTY-SEVEN

FRANKIE

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. There I go. Making a fucking mess of things. Am I an idiot? Apparently, I am. Because I just unloaded all my baggage, enough to fill a fucking baggage claim carousel. And to top it off? I vomited my love for him. All over the fucking place. I hate myself.

He rolls us and hovers over me. I squeeze my eyes shut. Maybe if I close them tight enough, he won’t be able to see me. I’m invisible. His stare burns into me. It was worth a shot.

His palm slides over my cheek. So large. So strong.

So gentle.

“Babe,” he whispers. “Why…why is that a bad thing?”

The confusion bleeding from his words is enough to give me the push I need to open my eyes and face him.

“Because, dolcezza…” I sigh, one big breath of resignation. “There is no future for us. I’ve said it. You’ve said it. We shouldn’t start fooling ourselves now. So, falling for you when I know this has an expiration date?” I swallow down the emotion thick in my throat. “S-sucks.”

Pao Pao calling it for the win. Fucking annoying little brothers.

I put a hand on his chest and send him a smile. Considering he doesn’t return it, I’m sure it fell flat. “It’s okay, though. I was under no illusions when we went into this. I was aware of the risks. And I’m not saying it has to end now. I’m just frustrated with myself for letting this happen. But it’s all on me, okay? I shouldn’t have said anything and put this on you.” I bang my head against the pillow and groan. Why? Why did I word-vomit all of that?

“What if we tried?” he asks so softly that at first I think I misheard. But those blue eyes are so sincere, so goddamned hopeful, I know I heard right.

“Oh, Jackie-babe.” I pull him down for a chaste kiss, then rest my forehead against his. “You’ve said it before. Baseball is your priority right now. Don’t let some guy distract you from that. You’ve got an entire big-league career ahead of you⁠—”

“You’re not some guy.”

He sits up and pulls me with him, pulls me so I’m straddling his lap while he holds my jaw.

He shakes his head. “You’re not a distraction. Frank, I’m playing the best fucking baseball of my life right now. Do you know when that started? When we got together. You are the opposite of a distraction. You’ve removed the weight I’ve carried my entire life. Before, I lived in a constant state of paranoia. It clouded my mind, lurking there, toying with my focus. Everything was a battle. Every day I fought. Because the world, my family, the people I had surrounded myself with, taught me to believe there was something wrong with me.” His fingers flex, and he gives me the smallest shake. “You saved me from that.”

I lean forward and drag my lips over his. He pulls me tight, and I fall into him, just for a moment. Soak in the adoration of his touch, the reverence of his lips grazing mine. Jackson Olander is something special. Falling in love with him was so easy. How could I not?

I finally brace myself and draw away. “I’m so happy—honored—that I got to do that for you, love. But you’re changing your tune. Just earlier today, you said how you can’t do a relationship right now.”

“But that was before. I didn’t think there was a possibility of more. You’ve always been clear you don’t do this too. I’ve been trying my best not to scare you off, keep it casual. Just like you, I’ve been burying my feelings.”

He brushes my hair back and twirls it softly in his fingers before letting his hand fall. Those blue irises find me again, silver glinting from their depths.

“You can’t really believe I feel nothing for you,” he whispers. He brushes his thumb over my lip. “You’re not alone in this. I⁠—”

My heart rate spikes, and I shake my head. I have to stop him before he says something that will certainly destroy me. “Jackson. Let’s think about this logically. Even with you in Providence, a relationship would be difficult.”