Page 58 of Try Line Hearts
A hand came up, slow and careful, fingers finding Lucas’s jaw in the dark, thumb brushing along the rough line of stubble like he was mapping it for keeps.
“Tell me you’re sure,” Eli said, one last time.
Lucas swallowed hard.
“I’m sure I’ll think about it every day if I don’t,” he said. “That’ll have to do.”
Eli’s quiet, disbelieving huff of laughter was all the warning he got before warm lips found his.
No drunken mess. No panic. Just a deliberate, steady press of mouth to mouth in the middle of a dark, empty stadium.
Lucas went rigid for a heartbeat, every muscle braced for… something. The sky to fall. The ground to split. His father to appear in the stands with a Bible.
Nothing happened.
Except Eli kissing him.
Soft at first, careful. Then deeper, slow and sure, like he had all night and no intention of rushing. Lucas’s hand found the fabric of Eli’s jersey at his hip and closed in a helpless fist.
Eli made a low sound—wrecked and reverent—into his mouth and stepped in, chest flush to Lucas’s now. One hand stayed at his jaw; the other slid to the back of his neck, anchoring him there like this was the most natural thing in the world.
The only light around them were the scattered swipes of headlamps up in the stands, occasionally sketching a brief outline of posts or touchline before moving on. Out there on the halfway, they were mostly shadow and breath and warmth.
Lucas let himself lean into it.
Let himself feel the smooth pull of Eli’s lower lip under his, the tickle of stubble, the steady thud of another heartbeat pressed against his own. Let himself open his mouth, deepen the kiss, answer the quiet question in it with one of his own.
Yes. I feel this too. I’m here.
No part of it felt wrong.
That, more than anything, terrified him.
When they finally broke apart, it was only far enough to rest their foreheads together, breaths mingling white in the cold.
Lucas’s heart raced. His hands still shook where they gripped Eli’s hip.
“Still terrified?” Eli asked, voice barely above a whisper.
“Yes,” Lucas said honestly.
“Good,” Eli murmured. “Means you’re paying attention.”
His hand lingered at the back of Lucas’s neck, thumb rubbing a slow line into the tense muscle there before he let it fall.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then Eli cleared his throat softly.
“Okay,” he said. “So. Cards on the table.”
Lucas’s stomach dipped. “That wasn’t…?”
“That wasn’t a one-off for me,” Eli said. “But I’m not about to drag you into some big, dramatic thing you’re not ready for.”
He shifted back just enough that Lucas could see the faint outline of his face now, eyes dark and searching.
“I’m saying,” Eli went on carefully, “maybe we see where this goes. Start small. Just… you and me. No announcements. No one else has to know a thing.”
