8. Sean
EIGHT
SEAN
I wake up warm, and it’s not because of the sunlight leaking through the blinds. Not the faint noise of a car passing outside. Not even the weird reality show playing on low volume from the TV because Emiliano fell asleep with the remote in his hand, like he lives here.
Warm and safe.
Emiliano’s arm is around me, heavy and steady across my waist. My head is on his chest. His breathing is slow and even. The kind of calm you don’t fake. For a second, I just lie there, staring at the ceiling, waiting for guilt to pounce.
It doesn’t.
At least not immediately. Instead, all I feel is the echo of last night. That kiss. The way I didn’t run. The way he looked at me, like I was something to fight for. The way he made rules that weren’t about control but about care.
Then reality, like always, finds me. My phone is on the coffee table, and the screen lights up with a new message.
Mom
Sean, don’t forget to RSVP for Easter.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
A reminder that I’m still two people, and one of them is terrified. I close my eyes for a second and breathe. Emiliano shifts behind me and murmurs something in Spanish against my hair, still half asleep.
“Mmm, buenos días, Cobre…”
The nickname hits softer than it did in the dugout. Less taunting, more… affection.
I shouldn’t like it.
But I do.
It makes something stupid and tender flutter under my ribs.
Emiliano’s hand slides over my stomach, slowly. A small squeeze. His face presses into my neck like he’s inhaling me. Then he goes still, like he remembers.
No sex.
He kisses my temple instead and pulls back. His eyes are still heavy with sleep, his hair a mess, and his mouth soft. It’s unfair how good he looks like this. Like a man who could ruin you and also carry you out of the wreckage.
“You sleep?” he asks, voice rough.
“Yeah,” I lie, because I’m not admitting I was awake thinking about what my mom would say if I told her I’m in love with a man.
Emiliano watches me for a beat like he knows better, then lets it go.
“I should get my Uber for the airport,” he says, and my chest does something stupidly painful at the thought of him leaving.
It shouldn’t.
It shouldn’t matter.
I sit up, rubbing my face, trying to put my defenses back on like a hoodie. Emiliano stands, stretches, then reaches down and ruffles my hair like I’m a kid.
“Don’t,” I swat him.
That only makes him smile. “Why? You’re cute when you’re grumpy.”
I roll my eyes. “Pack your shit.”
“I never unpacked,” he says. “We slept on the couch, remember?”
The next fifteen minutes are a blur of him moving through my apartment like he belongs here now. Like it’s normal to grab his bag from the corner, slip his shoes back on, check his phone, then look at me like he’s making sure I’m okay before he leaves.
I’m not okay.
At the door, he pauses, then looks at me, and his eyes soften.
“Text me,” he says.
“I will,” I lie again, because lying is my first language when I’m scared.
Emiliano doesn’t call me on it. He just nods once like he’s filing it away. Then he holds his hand out like it’s an offering. I hesitate like an idiot for half a second, then take it. His fingers lace through mine like last night didn’t end.
We walk out together, down the hall and into the elevator. The ride is short and excruciating because I’m hyper-aware of every camera in the building and every person who might walk in and see us.
No one does.
The doors open to the lobby, and that’s where my entire life decides to betray me because Kai is standing near the mailboxes with Gael, Jackson, and Andres, like they coordinated it.
Kai’s eyes flick to our joined hands, then up to my face, and he grins like he just won the World Series.
“Oh,” he says, loud enough to be annoying. “Now what do we have here?”
I immediately let go of Emiliano’s hand like it burned me, and Emiliano’s fingers flex once, empty, but he doesn’t react.
He doesn’t look hurt.
Which somehow makes me feel worse.
Jackson’s eyes narrow at me, then soften slightly at Emiliano. Andres’ expression is unreadable. Gael just looks tired, like he already knows Kai’s about to run his mouth.
Kai points at Emiliano like he’s introducing him to the class. “Mets guy.”
“Coyotes psycho.” Emiliano points back.
Kai laughs, absolutely delighted. “I like you.”
“That’s unfortunate,” Emiliano replies.
Gael coughs to hide a laugh, and Andres’ mouth twitches.
Emiliano glances at me, then back at Kai. “I’m heading to the airport.”
Kai’s grin turns sharp. “You leaving already? Damn. We were gonna invite you to breakfast.”
“Yeah, I kind of have a flight back to Queens.”
Jackson steps forward slightly, his tone easy but protective. “You guys good?”
Emiliano nods once. “Yeah.” Then his eyes flick to me. “We’re good.”
“Yep,” I manage to choke out. “All good.”
Emiliano looks like he wants to say something else. Something softer. Something that might make me panic again. Instead, he steps closer and lowers his voice.
“Come here,” he murmurs, so only I can hear it.
Oh, fuck, are we going to do this right now? In front of everyone?
I hesitate, then I step in, because last night I said I wanted him, and I meant it. Emiliano cups my face with one hand, thumb brushing my cheek, and before my brain can talk me out of it, he kisses me.
In the lobby.
Not a filthy kiss. A soft, steady kiss that feels like a promise. My entire body goes hot and cold at the same time. Then he pulls back, forehead touching mine for half a second.
“I’m proud of you, Cobre,” he whispers, and then he turns like he’s not leaving pieces of me all over the tile floor.
He walks out the front doors like the world can’t touch him, toward the Uber waiting for him.
Then he’s gone, and I’m left standing there with my heart in my throat and four Coyotes staring at me like they just watched me commit a crime.
Kai is the first to speak, obviously. “What the fuck was that?” he says, eyes wide with glee.
Gael groans. “Kai.”
Kai ignores him. “Sean. You just got kissed in the lobby. Like he was your boyfriend.”
I glare. “Shut up.”
Jackson folds his arms, his expression soft but serious. “Did you want that?”
The question hits different coming from Jackson Baker. The man who used to be terrified of being seen and now lets Andres touch him like it’s normal.
“Yeah. I did.”
Andres’ eyes flick to Jackson, then back to me. He steps closer, voice calm, the kind he uses when he’s talking someone down from a ledge.
“Then don’t sabotage it,” he says simply.
Kai points at me like he’s calling a play. “If you want him and you want to be with him, do it. Fuck everyone else.”
I bristle. “You make it sound so easy.”
Gael’s gaze goes steady. “It can be.”
His voice is gentle, not accusing. “Faith isn’t punishment,” Gael says. “It’s not supposed to be.”
Jackson’s eyes soften. “You’re allowed to be loved out loud.”
I stare at him, because hearing that from someone on my team, someone who knows what it feels like to be scared, makes my chest ache in a way I don’t have a defense for.
Andres steps in last, quiet but firm. “Give your family a chance before you decide they won’t support you,” he says.
“I know how Catholics make it seem like it’s eternal damnation,” he continues, and there’s something real in his eyes now.
Something that tells me he understands more than I thought.
He glances at Jackson, then back at me. “But honestly? Sometimes love surprises you.”
Jackson’s hand brushes Andres’ for a second, like an agreement.
“He’s worth it,” Andres adds.
Something in my chest cracks because I realize Emiliano is worth it. And I’m tired of living like my happiness is something I have to earn through suffering.
“I know he is,” I whisper.
Kai claps his hands once. “Okay! Great emotional growth! Now can someone please explain to me why Brooks and Mike have been acting like a married couple for the past two months?”
Gael sighs like he wants to disappear. Jackson snorts, and Andres’ mouth twitches.
I blink. “What?”
Jackson gives me a look like I’m behind. “You seriously haven’t noticed?”
“No,” I say, because apparently I’ve been busy losing my mind.
Right on cue, Brooks and Mike walk into the lobby arguing over something stupid, like always. Brooks is grinning and Mike looks like he wants to murder him.
Brooks sees us and immediately narrows his eyes. “Why do you all look like you just had group therapy without me?”
Kai points at him. “Because we did. Also, you and Mike are obvious.”
Mike freezes and Brooks blinks.
“We’re what?” they say in unison.
Gael mutters, “Oh my God.”
Jackson laughs quietly.
Andres leans toward me, voice low. “See? Not just you.”
Brooks turns to Mike, eyebrows lifting. “Are we obvious?”
“If you would shut the fuck up half the time, maybe it wouldn’t be.” Mike’s ears go red.
Brooks’ grin turns delighted. “Oh, we’re so fucking obvious.”
I stare at them, stunned, and something about it makes my lungs loosen. I’m not alone. None of us are.
Kai nudges me with his elbow. “Just be you, and know we’ve got your back whatever the outcome is.”
I want my family to know. Maybe not today. Maybe not perfectly. But I don’t want to do it alone. So I do the only thing I can think of, which is pull my phone out. My fingers hover over the screen, and then I type, heart pounding like I’m stepping into the batter’s box.
Sean
I want to tell my family.
Soon.
Would you maybe do it with me?
I hit send, and almost a millisecond later, he replies.
Emiliano
When do we go see them?