Page 88 of Hiding in the Outfield

A chuckle slips out, and I squeeze her tighter. “Nice to meet you, Rosa,” I try again.

“Much better. The hug and the greeting.” She pulls back and winks. “Now come. Fill those mouths with meat.”

My eyes fly wide, and Frankie snickers. I guess I see where he gets it from.

“Mommmm,” Paulie groans.

She plants her hands on her hips. “What? I’ve had to put up with you two and your innuendos for years. If you can’t take the heat, get out of my kitchen.”

Paulie eyes the spread of meats, cheeses, olives, and nuts. He promptly quiets and shoves a piece of cheese into his mouth.

A little while later, we’ve moved to the living room, the All-Star coverage on the TV. Shelby is tucked into Paulie’s side on the couch. Maddox is next to him, fingers absently toying with Easton’s hair, who’s sitting on the floor in front of him. Stone and Shane claimed the loveseat, and Mr. Nebiolo is in the single armchair. I hover, unsure of where to sit.

Frankie’s fingers gently lace through mine, and he gives a small tug. “Come, dolcezza,” he whispers.

He leads me to the couch, and I take a seat next to East. Then Frankie toes my thighs open, plops down, and tucks himself against me. I freeze for a breath, and then everything eases. Because this is a safe space. Accepting, yes, but also no one here is pushing for information. Mr. Nebiolo barely even glances our way, even though his son just cozied up to another man.

I slide an arm around Frankie’s middle and close my eyes as I rest my face against his hair and breathe him in. There was no missing the curiosity in Rosa’s eyes when Frankie introduced me. But there was also a complete absence of pressure. She wasn’t going to prod. No labels required. We can be like this and not have to name it.

Which is good because what this is is all twisted up in my head. It was always more than sex lessons to me. I guess boyfriend lessons is more accurate. Frankie strokes his fingers over my forearm, conversation drifting around us. But somewhere along the way, I think I dropped off the word lessons.

I know this isn’t that. I know Frankie specifically said he doesn’t do that. I know boyfriends and baseball don’t mix.

My attention falls on Stone and Shane, then slides to East next to me, his head resting against Maddy’s knee.

Maybe…I don’t know anything at all.

Rosa comes walking into the living room, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. “Food will be ready in an hour. Does anyone want a drink? I have wine, and Tom grabbed some beer earlier.”

“I’ll take a beer,” Paulie says. “What’d you grab, Dad?”

“I got a couple kinds of IPAs and a thing of Landshark. Oh, and, Frank, I grabbed a pack of stouts like you asked. Some nitro thing. Sounded interesting.”

My grip tightens, and Frankie laughs softly. “You’re the best, you know that.”

He turns toward me, those gold flecks in his eyes glowing. “I’m well aware.”

I bite my lip against a grin.

“I’ll go grab them,” Mr. Nebiolo says. “What are your orders, gals and gents?”

We call out our orders, mine obviously being a stout, and he disappears downstairs.

Frankie’s mom collapses into the armchair. “Oh, it feels good to sit.”

“You totally played Dad so you could steal his chair,” Paulie says.

She winks, and laughter fills the room.

“Damn, Trent is slaying,” Shane says, attention locked on the TV. Trent got selected for the All-Star Futures Game along with one of our pitchers in Double-A. Hot prospects from each organization get selected to play. Shane played in it last year. Stone did his first season with the franchise too.

“I still can’t get over that kid,” Stone says. “Guarantee he gets the call-up next season, no contest.”

We’re really lucky we have his talent this year. It’s been a tough year. Rocky start, then when we finally got our rhythm, call-ups and all the drama with Dev went down. We’re finally feeling like a team again, and Trent made a huge difference with that.

“Wild that he goes from fifteenth round to probably getting the call-up in like…two years?” I murmur.

The oven dings, and Mrs. Nebiolo stands. “That’s what you call a fast riser.” Her dark eyes glimmer with mischief, then she heads to the kitchen.