Page 20 of Built to Last

“Someone has to be out there still,” Gilbert ignored me and said, stepping back from the door and pacing around the far end of the room. “Where’s your phone? We can call Sean and get him to come back.”

“I left my phone in the RV,” I said, gazing warily up at him. “Where’s yours?”

“In my bag,” Gilbert said, like inspiration had struck. He marched over to the locker at the end of the row, where he’d evidently stashed his stuff for the game. Once he had his bag out and found his phone, he frowned at it. “I’m down to five percent,” he said.

“Then you’d better use that five percent wisely and call Sean to get us out of here,” I said.

“Fine. What’s his number?”

A sinking feeling hit me. “I don’t know.”

Gilbert stared at me like I’d ruined his life. He huffed a sigh, shoulders dropping, then tapped his phone and held it to his ear. “Hey, Sam,” he said seconds later. “Listen, I don’t have a lot of charge left, but we kind of got locked in the storage and locker building at the ballpark. Yeah, yeah, I know.” He glared across at me like the whole thing was my fault. “Can you call Sean Quinn and have him come back to get us out?” There was a pause. Gilbert’s hopeful look turned into a scowl. “I don’t know his number. Someone on the team probably has it, though.” Another pause. “What do you mean you don’t know anyone on the team? It’s my team.”

I rolled my eyes, settling in for the worst-case scenario.

“Diccon has to know someone. If you ask him and just—” Gilbert stopped, pulling his phone away from his ear and glaring at it.

“Out of charge?” I asked.

“Fuck you,” he said, throwing his phone angrily back into his bag.

“Calm down, ace,” I sighed, spreading out even more across the bench. “Your brother knows where we are, and even if he doesn’t have contact information for anyone in the league, he’s a smart guy. He can figure it out and get someone to come let us out.”

“You’re putting an awful lot of faith in my brother,” Gilbert mumbled, moving around the bench opposite mine and flopping down. “Ever since he started officially dating Brian, he’s had a dick for brains.”

I grinned, mostly because I knew what he meant. I still had faith in Sam to get us out, eventually, but I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to mess with Gilbert, since he was being such an asshole. “Jealous?” I asked.

“No!” Gilbert barked way too quickly.

So Gilbert was jealous. Huh.

“I never pegged you as the committed relationship type,” I said.

The words came out with way too much resentment.

Gilbert’s back went stiff and his eyes wide. “How would you know?” he demanded. “You refused to give me a chance.”

Whoa. So we were going there right off the bat?

“I could say the same about you,” I fired right back at him, old hurt welling up and making me more aggressive than I wanted to be.

Gilbert looked downright mutinous. “I didn’t give you a chance?” His voice rose an octave with the question. “You were the one who refused to come out of the closet so we could have something.”

Heat shot up my neck and into my face. I pushed myself to stand so I wouldn’t be trapped under the weight of the shame and fear that still pressed down on me, all these years later. “You knew what my family was like,” I said as I chewed up the floor with my strides. “You knew what I risked by coming out.”

Gilbert tracked my every move like he needed my exact coordinates to drop a bomb on me. “You could have said something,” he insisted. “I would have been there for you. A lot of people would have been there for you.”

I stopped pacing and turned back to him. “My family,” I said, hands spread wide, like that was the only explanation needed.

“They would have understood eventually,” Gilbert said, his voice marginally softer.

I snorted and resumed pacing. “You don’t know my family.”

“How are they about things now?” he asked.

I knew a probing question when I heard one. “They still don’t know,” I said, barely audible, returning to my bench and sitting directly across from Gilbert. “Okay, that’s not true. My sister, Helen, knows.”

“And?” Gilbert prompted.