“Iggy…Can I call you Iggy?”
The giant lowered his gaze to meet Ben’s eyes. He nodded.
“Don’t be scared, Iggy.” Ben raised his gaze, helping to make up the over fourteen-inch difference, and then took Iggy by the hand. “Which is rich, coming from me, because I’m pretty damned scared right now.”
“I am sorry.”
“Not by you. By…because…Everything.” Ben tried to smile. “Iggy, are you…Are you trying to come out?” Ben whispered.
“Yes.” The weightlifter’s confirmation came with tears as he jerked his hand away. “I am gay.”
Someone so big was crying over being gay? The tiny judgy gymnast could understand. When a whole lot of different emotions circled the brain, crying—short, tall, American, or whatever—was sometimes all there was to do.