30. Gabe

CHAPTER 30

GABE

"SEC Champs baybeee!!!!"

Our teammates and families are swarming the fields, but I'm only looking at one person. He stares back, a begrudging smile on his face. His smile twists into an amused grin, looking just over my shoulder. I look back in time to see Ellis launch himself through the air, and catch him easily, not giving one flying fuck when anyone sees the way he cups my face and kisses me—short, chaste pecks all over my mouth and jaw and cheeks.

"I'm so proud of you!" he says.

"I'm so sweaty," I laugh. And dirty and grimy. I'm gross. But Ellis doesn't care. Case in point, he licks the side of my face. My chest rumbles. "Watch it, there are children present."

Ellis throws his head back and laughs before smacking one last kiss on my lips and jumping down. He runs to his brother, and I take a moment to roll my lips in, touching everywhere he kissed me with my fingertips. I'm kind of lost in it, but then my vision focuses, and I look up to see our parents staring at me. I'm not sure what to make of their astonished expressions. Whoops .

Coward that I am, I look over my shoulder for backup, but Ellis is hugging his brother. Their heads are huddled together, and Ellis is saying something to Elliot that he looks to be taking very seriously. I hope it's nothing bad. We haven't hung out at all, or talked much outside of baseball stuff, but we've kept things friendly. Ellis and I do our best to respect the living space and not be loud or obvious or rub our illicit love in his face. And I think he's doing his best to give us alone time to balance it out. Today is the first day he's smiled at me in weeks.

"Hope! Rodgers!" Coach barks. "With me!"

We look at each other, both with shocked expressions, as we meet halfway and follow Coach into the offices beneath the stadium. I have a moment of giddiness that we're playing in an actual stadium, but keep a stoic look on my face.

"What did you do?" Elliot murmurs, speaking out of the side of his mouth, face forward.

"Why do you assume I did something?"

He raises his eyebrows and pins me with a deadpan expression.

"Okay fine. But I really didn't do anything this time." Even Tripp has been on his best behavior, studiously avoiding me wherever possible. I heard he's transferring next year, which is a shame, because he's a great shortstop. It's just too bad he's a dickbag.

"You boys ready?" Coach asks, stopping at a pair of double doors.

"Ready for what, sir?" Elliot asks, and I wipe sweat from my brow, helmet still in my hand. I haven't even taken my pads off yet.

"Your first press conference," he says, like it's obvious. He gives us a signal to hold tight and slips inside.

It's the first time Elliot and I have been alone since he figured it all out. We've mostly just been avoiding each other and I hate it. I want my best friend back .

"Hey, E?" I start, shuffling on my feet. "I'm… I'm sorry. I should have been honest with you."

I don't make excuses about not knowing what I was doing, or being afraid, or anything else. None of that is as important as the fact that he's my best friend. My brother. And I kept something huge from him.

I chance looking at him, and he holds my gaze. "Why didn't you feel like you could tell me?"

"I was a coward," I say. "I was terrified of losing you. Of losing both of you."

Elliot nods and looks at the doors, his jaw ticking. He doesn't look angry, but I can tell he's uncomfortable with the discussion.

"I know I'm not good enough for him. It's part of why it took me so long to—" I take a breath. "I love him, E. I just want you to know that."

Then the doors swing open, and Coach gestures us inside a conference room full of what feels like hundreds of people, but once we get settled in, I realize it's only about two dozen. There are a lot of flashing lights, and I'm sure I look like a brainless meathead as I scramble to answer questions. Elliot puts his hand on my shoulder, talking about some stat we pulled off tonight. It was an epic game. A near shutout to win the conference championship.

"But we're not done yet," I say, giving Elliot a nod. He squeezes my shoulder, and I can't help but feel like this is the turning point. This is how we make our way back to being brothers again.

"College World Series, here we come," he finishes for me. Our gazes hold for a brief moment, a meaningful look passed between us.

After the press conference, where we were asked all kinds of surreal questions about our futures and whether we plan to go pro after college, Elliot pulls me t o the side before we join our team in the locker room.

"You're good enough, Gabe. You're more than that. Ellis wouldn't be so in love with you if you weren't worth it. I know it's not some game or experiment for you. I can see it in the way you are together. I'm… happy for you both."

Keep it together, Gabe. Don't cry. Don't cry.

"I mean, I'm not going to lie. It's weird as fuck. Especially because you're constantly fucking in there and I can hear it. But I can get past that if you promise to keep things the same between us."

Trying to hide the rush of emotion that's threatening to burst from my chest, I pull Elliot into my chest.

He hugs me back and pats my back. "I love you, man."

There's a lot of horseplay and rowdy celebration going on in the locker room when we walk inside. Coach comes in and congratulates us on not playing like shit and gives us the usual warnings about partying too hard and drinking and driving. There's talk of a party back at the hotel, since we're all staying in the same hall.

"Rodgers! Are you bringing your boyfriend?"

I bristle slightly, not sure if that was meant to be a jab or not. I haven't had to face this yet, because technically I haven't actually come out or anything like that. By keeping our relationship a secret, we've had the benefit of no outside pressures or judgment. But I guess word got out about the fight with Tripp. And I suppose there's the way Ellis jumped into my arms and kissed me. That would probably confirm any lingering questions.

Trying to keep the tension out of my features, I turn around to see who said it.

Someone else chimes in. "Yes! Little E has to come! He's our good luck charm! "

A few of the guys chatter on about what a cool guy Ellis is. I'm cutting my eyes around suspiciously, waiting for a foot to drop. Elliot takes it all in stride, even asking if they know about Ellis' upcoming art exposition that's open to the whole school. Elliot never saw some of the bullshit that took place when he turned his head in middle and high school, but I did. A lot of it I put a stop to, quietly and without attracting attention. But I never missed how fake people were to Elliot's face. These guys actually seem genuine.

"Wait," Johansen says. "You and Ellis are really a thing?"

I turn completely around to face the room, and everyone goes silent.

"Is that a problem?"

"Maybe for him," he says, grimacing at the lower half of my body. I'm not the only butt-naked dude in the locker room, but I am the only one giving the room a full-frontal display.

Someone snorts. Elliot coughs. And I crack up despite myself. The locker room erupts in laughter, aside from a small group of guys on the opposite side of the room who are giving each other loaded looks. Tripp is back there with them, of course, and I hear him say something under his breath, although I can't make out the words.

"What's that again, Landon?" I say, loudly enough that everyone tenses.

Tripp levels me with a glare, and then turns it on Elliot. He and Elliot used to be friends, so I don't understand what his hang up is.

"Just wondering how Elliot feels about his little brother being a butt slut for his best friend? "

"Ellis is actually two minutes older than me. He can take care of himself. You're just jealous because he didn't want your tiny dick."

A chorus of " oooohhhhhs " rings out, and Tripp turns so red he's almost purple. He's given a wide berth as he storms out, but the moment he's gone, everyone goes back to their normal jackassery.

I suppose I'll still have to deal with the assholes in the back, but there will always be haters no matter who you are or who you're with. And it's possible that being out in the open with Ellis will affect my future and potential to go pro. But I don't think fame and success would mean shit without having Elliot and Ellis by my side. My best friend and my boyfriend.

Boyfriend. What a mindfuck.

By the time we make it out of the locker rooms, most of the stadium is empty. Our parents, and Ellis, are waiting near the exit. We're all supposed to go out to eat before the three of us head back to the hotel for the party. Technically, Ellis isn't allowed to stay in the hotel with us. He's been sleeping on the pullout couch in the suite his parents are sharing with my mom during the series. But I have a feeling no one will say anything about Ellis staying with us tonight. Besides, it's not like the three of us haven't been sharing rooms for most of our lives. The only difference is that Ellis will sleep next to me instead of his brother, and he'll be getting poked because I have no control over my dick. I mean, sometimes it just finds its way inside him just to sleep. Who am I to deny it a warm cave to sleep in?

But I could behave for Elliot. If only to prove to him that things can be normal-ish.

Probably.

My eyes rake down Ellis' body.

Okay, maybe .

It's a good thing I have different plans for tonight.

He's wearing black skinny jeans and an open Howler's Baseball jersey over a white crop top. The back of his jersey says, "Little E". The team got it for him, and he didn't even get mad about the nickname. He wore it to every game of the SEC Tournament. It might have made me love him more.

He turns around and his face breaks into a wide grin, popping the dimple in his cheek. He runs over to us, hugging his brother before taking my hand and pulling me in front of our parents.

"Yeah, so, um… I'd like you to meet my… boyfriend ."

I tear my eyes away from his to look at my mother first. She looks almost amused, eyebrow raised. Mama Hope is beaming at us, because, as a general rule, she's delightful. Mr. Hope looks somewhere between annoyed and chagrined.

"Fine," he says, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket. "You win," he says, passing my mom a twenty-dollar bill.

"We should have accounted for inflation when we made that bet," she says, tucking the bill into her pocket. Then she smiles and gives me a hug. "You were so impressive out there, Gabriel. I'm sorry I haven't made it to more games."

I hug her back, a little shell-shocked at the quick turnaround in the conversation. "You were here tonight. It means a lot, mama." I kiss her on the head because it always makes her laugh. Must be weird to have your kid tower over you and weigh almost twice what you do.

"Mom staaahhhp ," Ellis groans, pulling my attention back to where the Hopes have gathered.

Mama Hope waves him off and pulls me in for a hug. "You've always been like a son to us, Gabe," she whispers. "This changes nothing. "

Mr. Hope shakes my hand and pats my back. "We're real proud of you, boys. Hell of a game."

Overwhelmed by all the love and unexpected acceptance, I'm having to hold back tears.

"I wouldn't be here if not for you and Elliot. I'm thankful. And for being cool about me and Ellis, too."

Mr. Hope smirks. "It's worth the twenty bucks not to have to watch poor Ellis pine over you for nineteen more years."

"Dad! Seriously!"

"Oh please, you've been following him around with heart eyes since you were, what? Six? Eight maybe?"

"I'm going to go die now," Ellis mutters and tries to walk away, but I pull him back by the wrist.

"Stay, stay. Let's hear more about how you've been in love with me our whole lives," I joke, tugging on his topknot.

My mom scoffs. "Like you were much better, always watching and brooding. The bet wasn't about if you two would get together, it was when . Ethan thought it would take you longer to get your heads out of your asses."

Elliot tosses his hands up. "Am I the only one that had no clue any of this was happening?"

"Yes," the three of them say together. I shrug, because I guess I knew too.

Ellis shakes his head at his brother. He really had no idea, either.

The party is in full swing by the time we get back to the hotel. We make our rounds, and I help Ellis fend off the conga line of jocks that seem to want to pick him up and pass him around. It's pretty normal for teammates to slap each other on the back or butt, but I think the guys are making it a gam e to see how many times I can growl the word, "Mine."

Ellis gets ganged up on and forced to promise he'll be at all the rest of the games, through regionals and the College World Series. They're making plans about how they can smuggle him into the hotel when I take the last swig of my beer. I stare at the bottle for a minute, then place it on the table. It only takes a second for the sound of the bottle spinning to catch Ellis' attention.

After it spins a few times, I stop the bottle from spinning right as it's pointing at him. His eyes move from the bottle to me, and his eyebrow raises. Reaching out a hand, I tilt my head to the side, gesturing for him to follow me.