Page 76 of Hiding in the Outfield

He and Shane quickly backpedal toward the kitchen, pointing at us as they sing the chorus. They toss their spoons to the side. They’re completely in sync—ha!—as they do a choreographed dance.

They break off laughing after the chorus ends. I crook my finger at Frankie, and he glides over to me, an oh-so-pleased-with-himself smile on his face.

“You like?”

I bite my lip and rake my gaze over him. “Oh, I like.”

“Careful, bello. Keep looking at me like that, and we’ll be skipping dinner. And I think a few people here would be pretty unhappy if I don’t finish cooking.”

“Damn straight!” Nebs yells from the living room.

“Damn gay!” Maddox follows up.

I snicker.

“Damn bi!” Stone and Shane holler.

“Damn…demi?” Easton says uncertainly.

Frankie and I lock eyes. And burst out laughing.

“Damn queer,” Frankie murmurs.

I nod. “Damn queer,” I whisper. Then I pull him into my lap and kiss him.

I hold him to me, pour every ounce of what I’m feeling into our kiss. My fingers tighten in his hair. I hope he can hear the unspoken words. I’m so grateful for you. For what you’ve given me.

Lightness.

Happiness.

But most of all…

Hope

TWENTY-SIX

FRANKIE

“Ohmyfuckinggod.” Jackson follows up his words with a pornographic moan.

“Dude,” Shane says. “No jizzing in the bolognese.”

I choke on a laugh. “I mean. My bolognese is pretty orgasmic.”

“This is literally the best thing I’ve ever put in my mouth.”

Not sure if I should be insulted or complimented by that. I suppose I’m just always filling that sexy mouth with delicious things.

Jackson shovels more tagliatelle into his mouth. “And these thick spaghetti noodles,” he says, his words muffled around his bite. “Hold more meat. Big fan.”

I set down my wineglass and glare at him. Now that I will not stand for.

He pauses mid chew. “Wha?”

“Tagliatelle, Jackie. Not thick spaghetti noodles. We are not barbarians.”

“I dunno…” Jed says. “The way Olander is downing his food? It’s like watching a massacre.”