Page 93

“Do you all live together? Is there a dating schedule?”

“Man, the stamina must be insane. Three dudes going at it? Damn.”

“Okay, that’s enough!” Coach Bryant’s booming voice cuts through the chatter. “Let’s give the lovebirds some breathing room, shall we? There’s plenty of food waiting to be eaten. Go on, get!”

The team disperses with good-natured grumbling, heading straight for the buffet table. Charlie and Daniel make to follow, but Coach Bryant stops them with a hand on each of their shoulders.

“Not so fast, you two,” he says, his tone serious. “We need to have a little chat.”

He steers them over to a quieter corner of the yard, and I trail behind, not sure if I’m meant to be included in this conversation. But when Coach Bryant gestures for me to join them, I hurry to comply.

“Listen, boys. I’m truly happy for you. Love is love. But you’ve got to understand that not everyone out there is going to be as accepting as the folks in this backyard.” He stares pointedly at Charlie. “Especially if you’re planning on going pro, son. The spotlight on athletes these days is intense. Every aspect of your life will be scrutinized. Your relationships, your sexuality—it’ll all be fair game for the media and the public to dissect and judge.”

Charlie’s face pales at his coach’s words, and he swallows hard. “I…I hadn’t thought about that,” he admits quietly. “Playing for the Yankees has been my dream since I could walk. But…”

He trails off, lost and uncertain. My heart aches for him. I reach out and takehis hand in mine.

“You’re going to have a tough road ahead of you if you’re set on the majors,” Coach Bryant adds. “But if this is truly what you want, then you fight for it. You prove all the naysayers wrong. You show them that your love and identity don’t define you as a player. Your skill, your heart, your dedication—that’s what matters.”

Charlie takes a deep, shuddering breath. “Yes, Coach. I understand.”

“Good.” Coach Bryant claps them on the back and flashes me a wink. “Now, let’s put this on the back burner and enjoy the rest of the night.”

Chapter 32

Getting to the Bottom of Things

Daniel

In all thetimes I’ve been to Bomont with Charlie to visit his parents, I’ve never noticed that this house has a basement.

The clouds split open a few minutes ago, along with thunder and lightning, sending the guests scurrying for cover. Charlie’s quick thinking led us down a narrow staircase and into this subterranean sanctuary.

The walls are adorned with dark wood paneling, identical to that upstairs. The floor is covered in a plush, avocado-green shag carpet. There’s a well-worn couch upholstered in a bold floral pattern, a few mismatched armchairs that have seen better days, and a sturdy wooden coffee table with a few water rings marring its surface.

The only modern addition to this retro room is the oversized beanbag that Harrison and I have claimed as our own. I’m sitting with my legs spread wide, with Harrison nestled comfortably between them, his back pressed against my chest. I wrap my arms around him and pull him closer to me.

“Y’all have quite the storms here,” Coach Bryant says to Robert as he dries his hair off with a towel.

Charlie’s dad nods, doing the same. “Rain’s a farmer’s best friend until it ain’t.”

“True enough,” Coach says. “Have you ever had any tornadoes out here? We had a slew of ’em back in Kentucky last year.”

“No, but it’s always a possibility.”

Coach glances around the basement with approval. “This would make a perfect shelter.”

Charlie comes over, his eyes wide with concern. “There’s going to be a tornado?!”

“Relax,” Roy drawls from his spot on the couch, sounding far too amused at Charlie’s panic. “It’s just rain, little brother.”

“But what if it turnsintoa tornado?” Charlie insists, his voice rising five octaves.

“Then we all die,” Roy says with a smirk.

“Roy!” Esther scolds, shaking her head at him.

He chuckles and reaches over to pat Charlie on the butt. “Go help Mom open her presents. It’ll keep your mind off it.”