Page 4 of Dead Ball Situation

A sweet smile touched Sacha’s lips. “You’re amazing.”

Those words hit him so much harder than he’d expected. Sacha was just the epitome of beauty. Bandit had never had anyone who looked like Sacha choose him, much less pick him for anything other than his career. Bandit understood his weaknesses. Being conventionally handsome was definitely not a strength he possessed. He had all the hallmarks of being teased. Red hair. Tons of freckles. Too skinny for his height.

“I hope you got something too and don’t intend to watch me eat. There’s only one cup.”

Damn. He should have at least gotten a coffee so he didn’t make Sacha uncomfortable. “I ate with my parents before I dropped them off. Sorry about that. I can leave you alone to eat.”

They headed to the kitchen together.

Sacha shook his head. “You overthink things. I can see it. It’s fine to sit with me.”

He set the meal on the table as Sacha sat. Bandit chose a chair across from him. “I hope you like bacon, egg, and cheese. Breakfast choices are always limited.”

“I’m not a picky eater. That comes from growing up poor. We ate what we were given or starved. You can learn to like anything.”

Bandit nodded. “Same.”

Sacha paused with the sandwich halfway to his mouth. “Really? I never realized.”

Bandit shrugged. “Yeah. My mom was a teacher, and my dad worked at a factory. They barely got by. That’s why they never fought to get custody of Baylor. They couldn’t afford a lawyer or a court battle.”

Sacha nodded along as he chewed.

Bandit forced a smile to his lips. He hated thinking about the helpless rage of not being able to save Baylor from an abusive foster family. “Thankfully, I got picked up by New England.”

“I imagine that was quite a change in circumstances.”

Sacha had no idea, and Bandit didn’t really like talking about it. He changed the subject. “Have you created any amazing cakes lately?”

Baylor had discovered Sacha through his cake designs and subsequently hired him to help with his wedding planning business. Sacha made works of art. Bandit had only seen one design, and it had floored him. He wished Sacha could live that dream. As much as he was grateful for Sacha keeping Baylor from working himself to death, he wanted Sacha to have his biggest dream too.

Sacha set his sandwich aside and picked up his phone. He clicked around. “Here.” He passed the device Bandit’s way.

Bandit stared at the image Sacha had pulled up. It was a pumpkin. The carving was immaculate—like a creepy face etched into the skin. He was a bit confused. “You carve pumpkins too?”

A sexy grin spread across Sacha’s face. “That’s a cake.”

Bandit looked at the photo again. “Shut up. It is not.”

Sacha chuckled. “Keep scrolling.”

He swiped to the next picture. A slice of cake had been carved from the pumpkin. “Holy shit. It really is cake. Are there more?”

“You can keep looking.” Sacha went back to eating while Bandit scrolled through the images on his phone. He was blown away. Picture after picture of cakes that looked as if there was no chance they were anything but the object they appeared to be turned out to be cake. Bandit couldn’t stop swiping. Then he hit an image of Sacha. He was shirtless. Lipstick coated his lips and eyeliner highlighted his eyes. He was posed artfully. Lace covered parts of his face, but it looked painted on rather than actual material. Bandit’s gaze refused to budge. He took in every line and detail. Sacha’s hair was slicked back, and his lips were parted, as if on a pant. He intrigued the hell out of Bandit.

Bandit turned the phone Sacha’s way. “If I scroll and this is cake, I’m going to fucking die.”

Sacha’s eyes swam with laughter. “No. That one is actually me. My little brother is an art major. He needed a model for a portfolio he had to put together for an assignment.”

“How did I not know you have a little brother?” Bandit felt guilty. He thought he always made a conscious effort to talk to Sacha when they saw each other.

Sacha shrugged. “I don’t imagine we know much about each other at all. For example, I have no idea if you’re an only child.”

“I am. Do you only have the one sibling?”

“Yes.”

“What’s his name? How old is he? Share your life with me.”

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