Page 144 of Hiding in the Outfield

He and Schultz dissolve into laughter. My heart twists at the clear family mannerisms. I hope Jake and I can get there too. I think we’ve got a shot.

Schultz turns to me, hazel eyes glittering. “I’ve told Ryan he should just give up. But he’s determined to find the mythical gay baseball player. I’m sure there are queer guys playing, but I don’t think a single one is out. So, the odds are really not good.”

Ryan shrugs with an easy smile. “What kind of message does that send, Jimbo? How many guys make it to be professional baseball players? You beat the odds; I’m sure I can too.” He winks at me.

I shift my bag, and my chest tightens. This is kind of the perfect setup. My gut knots in an attempt to tell me that this is not perfect and I should get the hell out of here.

Ryan’s brows pinch. “Are you okay? Shit, did I make you uncomfortable? You look like you’re going to be sick.”

Fuck. No. I’m not going to be like this anymore. I draw in a deep breath. “Actually, I am gay.”

The hall goes silent. All eyes lock on me. Including the big hazel eyes of the little boy in Schultz’s arms. Oh God. This is awkward.

Ryan’s jaw, which was previously on the floor, snaps back up. “Oh my God!” He punches the air. “I found one! A mythical gay unicorn baseball player! Dibs.”

I laugh awkwardly.

“Ryan, don’t. Give the man a moment before you start your teasing up again.” Schultz hands his son over to his wife. He walks up to me and claps me on the shoulder. “As you might have guessed.” He nods toward his brother. “We’re a safe space. I think most of the guys are. They’ve never shown anything but kindness to Ryan.” His gaze turns serious. “But if anyone gives you even the smallest hint of trouble, you let me know.”

My cheeks burn. I don’t even know why I’m embarrassed. I guess I kind of just hate that this has to be a thing. If I had a girlfriend, I wouldn’t need my agent to meet with the fucking GM and PR department. I wouldn’t have to come out and tell them all I like vaginas.

“You okay?” Schultz asks quietly.

I nod stiffly and try for a smile. “Sorry. Just an overwhelming twenty-four hours.”

“And that was kind of a big moment,” Ryan says, watching me carefully. “I joke about you being a unicorn, but it’s true. You’ve got cojones, Olander. And let me tell you, I’m active in the queer community in Berkeley. We’ll ride for you.”

Oh. A lump builds in my throat. “Th-thanks.” That’s really fucking nice.

“And if you want, I’ll ride⁠—”

“Ryan,” Schultz warns.

Ryan lifts his hands, but his eyes sparkle. My smile is genuine now. I appreciate him defusing the charged moment. I swear I’ve been hopping between delirious laughter and breaking into tears since I got the news yesterday.

“I, um, should get out of here. My, ah, boyfriend flew out. I didn’t get to see him before I left, with how fast the trade happened.”

Amy’s face softens in sympathy. “Oh goodness. Get out of here and to your man. You poor things. I would have been out of my mind. Jimmy’s first year was a rollercoaster. I remember it all too well, and yeah—go, go.”

I send them all a smile, say a quick thanks, and then head for the parking lot where my rental car is. I swear to fucking Willie Mays—the greatest center fielder of all time—Chuck Wentworth is a magician and an angel. I don’t know how I would have gotten through all of this without him.

I pick up my pace.

Amy said it right.

Time to go see my man.

FIFTY-TWO

FRANKIE

I pace the hotel room. Jackson texted ten minutes ago that he’d just parked at the hotel. I promised myself I’d be calm and collected when he walks through that door. I am so calm.

I have never been calmer.

The door clicks.

The fucking calmest.