Page 39 of Hiding in the Outfield

“Yeah, I think we’re kind of friends. He told me about him and Easton. I trust him. It was still hard to tell him. I’ve never said it out loud before. But after Skip and Maddox, it does feel a little easier. I don’t know if that makes sense.”

“Ripping off the Band-Aid. Want to tell me?”

A whisper of a smile teases my lips. “I’m gay.”

“I’m Frankie. Nice to meet you, Gay.”

A small laugh bursts from me. “That was, like, real fucking cheesy.”

“Yet you laughed,” he says with a sly smile. “Plus, I’m Italian. I can’t get enough of cheese. Ricotta, burrata, parmigiano…”

A flush of warmth spreads through me as his Italian accent rolls off his tongue. How can he sound so sexy just listing cheese?

“That I did,” I murmur. I can’t stop myself from smiling back at him.

Can’t stop myself from staring. And finally allowing myself to give in completely to how thoroughly this man captivates me. He’s lightly lined his good eye with black eyeliner. He has the longest lashes I’ve ever seen. They curl a lot more than mine do. A dusting of glitter sparkles on his cheek. Sparkles just like the collection of earrings he wears. Even with everything that happened, this man still sparkles. How does he do it?

His lips twitch as he watches me take him in.

I run a finger down his nose. It’s very straight, smaller than mine…not dainty but elegant? I push the little round tip. It’s kind of cute.

His burnt mahogany eyes shine up at me, playful and bursting with gold light. Then he darts forward and kisses my finger. Everything inside me stills. Frozen. Like my body is determined to preserve this moment. Something so small, so simple…but to me…so special.

Tender and teasing and sweet, like warm honey for my soul.

I swallow hard and try to pull myself out of my trance. My gaze traces the injured side of his face. I carefully grip his chin and tilt him so I can really look at it. “How bad does it hurt?”

“It’s a little better. More a constant gnawing ache versus the persistent throb. As long as I’m propped up and not flat, it’s not too bad now. I’m just fucking happy I can chew things again. I’m really not a fan of drinking my meals. And this is going to shock you, but the swelling has actually gone down a bit.”

My fingers hover over his cheek, tracing the injury without touching it. “What about ice? If I got you ice, would that help?”

“I ice it on and off. But you’ve actually provided the best healing protocol so far. A sexy man in my bed had me almost forgetting I have a broken face.” His lips press tight against the smile he’s fighting.

“It hurts, doesn’t it?” My heart sinks. “To smile.” I trace his lips. “That’s why you hold it back. You don’t normally.”

A small line forms between his brows, and those dark-gold eyes study me. “You been watching me, Olander?”

I shrug the shoulder he’s not pressed against. “I’m a red-blooded gay man, and you’re stunning.”

Frankie’s eyes widen. “Oh, damn. Look who’s dropping the gay bomb all casual now.”

“You make it easy to feel comfortable.”

He draws circles on my chest with his finger. “I’m glad for that. Everyone here… You can be comfortable with them. Obviously, Maddy and East. But Shaney-babe too. Even Pao Pao.”

“Even if he wants to pow-pow me in the face?”

His eyebrows fly up, and he snorts, then dissolves into laughter. Laughter that quickly turns into a groan. “Ah. Fuck you, fuck youuu.” He grimaces and drops his head backward, eyes squeezing shut.

“Fuckshit. Sorry. God. I shouldn’t be making you laugh. Shit, shit. Frankie, what do I do?”

“Ouch,” he says weakly. “Just give me a second. It’s okay. It’s just throbbing. It’ll pass.”

He breathes slowly, and I feel like the biggest idiot.

“Can I ask you something?” he murmurs. His eyes are still closed, but at least he’s no longer wincing.

“Of course.”