Page 107 of Hiding in the Outfield

“I-isn’t that dangerous?” a new voice rings through the room. “You could get burned.”

I spin around and find—oh goodness, what a cutie-pie. He’s almost as syrupy sweet looking as Easton. A mass of poofy dark hair. Pink cheeks. Big blue eyes. That are locked on my naked chest.

“What’s life without a little danger?” I murmur. His gaze snaps to mine, and I throw him a wink. “It’s worth it.”

His jaw goes slack. It literally drops open, and he just stares at me. I tilt my head. Well, well, well. Another recruit is right.

“Interesting.” I look over at Shaney-babe. “How many queer guys are on your fucking team? Is there something in the water?”

The new guy—who I know is Trent, their recently called-up third baseman—finally finds his words. “Sorry for staring.” His cheeks all the way to the tips of his ears go bright red. Poor adorable lamb. I do have that effect on the boys. “But, um, isn’t it just me and Michaels?”

A gleeful cackle erupts from Shane. “Oh, bro. Not even close. At this rate, we’re going to be a team of queer BJs.”

I chuckle. Oh, Shaney-babe. But the chuckle falls off my face at the pure panic that just spread all over Trent’s. What in the world? I follow his gaze—and my my my. I fan myself. Is it hot in here? I mean, it is. The stove has been on all day. But the look Jackie-boy is giving Trent is pure murder and, oh, how I love a possessive man. Especially when he’s possessive over me.

Shane reprimands Jackson, but his mutinous glare doesn’t budge. His biceps flex.

“I don’t like the way he was looking at Frankie.”

Well, fuck me to the left and fuck me to the right. There goes my heart again. Soaring straight to center field. Because Jackson Olander just staked his claim. Came out and said it to Trent, no hesitation. Like I’m his, and he wants everyone to know it.

And it makes me do something so fucking foolish.

It makes me hope.

FORTY

JACKSON

“He lives!”

My gut tightens at O’Neil’s exclamation as I walk into our apartment. But I force myself to relax. My body’s first reaction is to brace myself for interrogation when I—very rarely—come back to my apartment. So far, the guys have taken it in stride, but I’ve caught the unspoken question in their eyes. I’m just waiting for it to finally drop. And after my weekend with Frankie…I don’t want to find a way to cover up the reason any longer. Something tight and sharp cinches around my chest. At some point, I’m going to tell them the truth.

“Who lives?” Slater says, ambling into the living room from the hall where our bedrooms are. He glances at O’Neil, who’s posted up on our couch. “Do you know this rando, O’Neil?”

I flip him off. “I literally just saw you all at the clubhouse like an hour ago. And I’m actually staying here tonight.”

“Ah, we’re finally good enough for you again, are we?” He says it with snark, but something flashes in Slater’s eyes. Something that looks a hell of a lot like hurt.

Which has me pausing. Have I missed something here I didn’t realize I had? I’ve kept my friendships shallow out of protection. I assumed that surface-level dynamic went both ways.

“My family’s coming to visit tomorrow. Figured I’d stay here since the diner we go to is a few blocks over.” And I needed some time alone to collect and prepare myself for the conversation I’ll be having with them. I didn’t think I’d be able to hide my nerves from Frankie, so I’m escaping to my apartment.

“So not back because he wants to see us. I think you might be on to something, Slate. He’s passed us over for better friends.” O’Neil says this to the TV that’s playing MLB The Show.

Okay. I definitely misread things. “It’s not like that.” It’s more the guy I’m head over heels for is there. And I honestly didn’t think O’Neil or Slater gave a shit I wasn’t around.

I drop my duffle by the hall, then stand awkwardly in the living room. O’Neil is still lasered in on the video game, and Slater is sitting by his side, not looking at me.

I shift on my feet. “I didn’t think you guys particularly liked me, to be honest.”

Slater turns my way. “We liked you sometimes.”

“When you weren’t with Dev,” O’Neil grunts. “Fucking asshat.”

“Yeah, you were really chill when he wasn’t around.” Slater eyes me. “Was kinda looking forward to hanging more with him gone.”

Shit. “Um… Well, I’m here now. Want to see if there’s another threesome around to do a Co-op?”