There was nothing like a baseball stadium on an almost summer night, Silas thought. While the women of the family converged on Maggie’s place with alcohol, snacks, and sympathetic ears, he had organized a gentlemen’s night out. It had started with just him, Cody, and Dean. Then they’d added Wallace to the guest list. When he’d rounded it out with Michael and the dads, Maggie’s sister had given the men permission to take Keaton, as long as Silas promised to text her proof of life every hour on the hour.

So there they sat in two rows of green stadium seats, eating more hot dogs and nachos than was healthy and cheering on the minor league Outlaws. They talked work and women—Cody admitted to maybe kinda sorta having a girlfriend—and rated ballpark food while the home team held a comfortable lead.

Silas had picked up on something, either friction or interest, between Michael and Dean and wanted to see what would happen if they spent a little more time together. At the top of the sixth, he handed Keaton over to Emmett and headed to the restroom. His brother caught up to him at the urinals.

“What’s your problem?” they both said at the same time.

“Me?” Silas asked, breaking rule number one of men’s restrooms and looking his brother in the eye. “You’re the one who’s looking at Dean like he’s a ballpark chili dog one minute and then acting like he’s invisible the next.”

Michael looked over his shoulder to make sure the topic of conversation hadn’t wandered in behind them. An interesting problem Silas had never considered about being gay. Restrooms were no longer safe havens to discuss love lives.

“Yeah?” Michael said. “You’re the one who’s doing a shitty job of hiding his whole ‘woe is me’ thing.”

“Fuck,” Silas grumbled, turning his attention back to the urinal. “Fine. But you go first.”

“I don’t know how to do this,” Michael said, zipping back up. “Okay?”

“Do what?” Silas asked over the flush of the urinal.

“Be into a guy. Talk about being into a guy.”

Silas zipped, flushed, and met his brother at the sinks. “Pretty sure it’s the same. You flirt. You ask him out. Dazzle him with your color-coordinated closet and then get married.”

“I don’t think I’m ready to dazzle anyone with my closet,” Michael said, reaching for a paper towel. “That’s pretty much what I told him at the cookout. I think I just need more time before I get into a relationship. I barely know who I am, let alone who I am with someone else.”

“Mikey,” Silas said, turning the water off and splashing his brother with his wet hands, “you’re thinking it to death. Do you like the guy? Are you attracted to the guy?”

Again his brother looked toward the door first. “Yeah.”