Page 66 of Tagging Bases

But even as the words leave my mouth, I know they ring hollow.

Charlie stops walking and turns to face me, his brown eyes searching mine. “Is it, though? Tell me the truth, Daniel. Do you have feelings for me?”

My heart hammers against my ribcage as I meet his gaze.

This is it. The moment of truth. I could lie. Brush it off and play it cool like I always do. But something tells me that won’t fly this time. Not with Charlie.

“Yeah, Charlie. I do.”

His eyes widen, and his mouth falls open in a gasp that’s almost comical in its exaggeration. He stumbles back a step as if the force of my words physically pushed him and then collapses onto the curb beneath the glow of a flickering streetlamp.

I sit down beside him, our knees brushing as I settle in. The concrete is cold and hard beneath my ass, but I barely notice. All my attention is focused on Charlie, on the way his hands tremble slightly.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” I say softly. “I was scared of ruining our friendship, of losing you. You mean everything to me, Charlie. And I didn’t want to fuck that up.”

Charlie nods slowly. “I get it, I do. But…why now? What changed?”

“Olivia, apparently. She saw right through me at that poetry slam. Called me out on my bullshit. And as much as I hated to admit it, she was right.”

I reach out and tentatively place my hand on Charlie’s knee, feeling the warmth of his skin through the fabric of his sweatpants. He doesn’t pull away, which I take as a good sign.

“The truth is, I’ve been head over heels for you for months. Ever since that crazy New Year’s Eve. Something shifted inside me that night, and I haven’t been able to unshift it.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” He turns to look at me. His brown eyes shimmer with unshed tears. “I thought maybe I was alone in feeling this way.”

My heart skips a beat at his words. “You mean…you feel the same way? About me?”

Charlie nods, causing a single tear to slip down his cheek. “Yeah, Daniel. I do. I think I finally came to terms with it at Coney Island. You offering your hand, the goofy faces you made at me on the carousel, the fact that I wanted to kiss you when we stopped at the top of the Ferris wheel? I knew then that if I enjoyed all of those moments, then it meant I saw you as more than a friend.”

He drops his head into his hands and cries. I scoot closer and wrap my arm around him, pulling him into my side. He leans into me, his body molding perfectly to mine as if it was always meant to be there.

We sit like that for a long time. The gentle hum of the streetlamp above us and the distant chirping of crickets create a soothing soundtrack. Charlie’s tears eventually subside, and he lifts his head. His eyes are red and puffy but filled with a warmth that makes my heart ache.

“I really like you, Daniel,” he says softly.

“I really like you too.”

The strongest urge to kiss him overcomes me. But before I can make my move, something in Charlie’s expression shifts. He bites his lower lip, a telltale sign that there’s more he wants to say.

“What is it?” I ask gently, brushing a stray hair off his forehead.

Charlie takes a shaky breath. “As much as I really like you, Daniel, I also really like Harrison.”

A surprised laugh bursts out of me before I can stop it. Charlie’s brow furrows in confusion, hurt flashing across his features.

“I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you,” I quickly reassure him. “It’s just…I really like Harrison too.”

Now it’s Charlie’s turn to be shocked. His mouth falls open, eyes wide as saucers. “Wait, what? Since when?”

I rub the back of my neck sheepishly. “Remember that family thing I had to go to a few weeks ago? Well, turns out it was Harrison’s parents’ anniversary party. And…he and I may have hooked up.”

Charlie’s jaw drops even further. He’s rendered speechless for a solid thirty seconds. Right as I’m starting to worry that I’ve broken him, his eyes darken with what I can only describe as lust.

“Tell. Me. Everything,” he demands. “I want to know exactly what you did with Harrison.”

Holy shit. The commanding tone, the hungry expression…it’s doing things to me. Namely, causing all the blood to rush from my brain straight to my dick. I squirm on the curb, trying to subtly adjust myself as my cock swells in my sweats.

“You sure you want all the dirty details?” I tease, half hoping that he says no.

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