Page 64 of Catch Me (Becoming Us #4)

Roman

“Congratulations,” I said, coming up beside Travis.

“Thanks.”

He was leaning on the railing at the edge of the boat, staring at the sunset. Since it was a ‘sunset cruise,’ I shouldn’t have been surprised, but he was taking it too literally. Or he just looked too good with the way the colors fell across his hair.

I held out a beer, and he eyed it for a second before he took it. Dropping my forearms to the railing, I studied the darkening sky.

“I’ve always thought sunsets were more beautiful than sunrises,” I noted absently, not really caring if he was listening. “They look different in every place. Even if it’s barely noticeable, I can see it.”

“Where’s the best one?” he asked, sounding bored.

When I looked at him, he turned his head toward me. After a second, I shrugged. “I haven’t been many places.”

“You should go.”

I dropped my gaze, then sucked in a breath when he used two fingers to lift my chin .

“Places. Go places.” He dropped his hand and looked at the skyline again.

“Maybe I will.”

“Why are you here and not with the others?”

“It’s prettier from up here, and they’re all being cute and shit. Sunsets are romantic, I guess.”

“I only watch them with Tessa.”

“Sounds like your ideal night.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, it is. What’s yours?”

“If I tell you, it’ll just make things awkward.”

“It’s already awkward, so have at it.”

I considered it for a minute. I kept saying I was done, yet here I was. Maybe this was the moment Linc eluded to. I could drop something, then walk away and leave the rest in his hands. It would probably end in disappointment, but that wasn’t any different from how things were now.

“Right here,” I said. “Watching the sunset with you, but Tessa would have to be here too, obviously. And I’d tell you all the things I didn’t back then.”

“What do you mean?”

“Every question I never answered.”

He looked at me and cocked his head. “Every question, huh? That’s believable.”

“Would you listen if I could?”

“Sure, but why?”

“Because I couldn’t live with myself when this is all over if I didn’t at least try.”

He was silent, so I decided to keep going, drawing on all of those questions I’d memorized, the ones I’d agonized over for so long simply because he’d asked them.

For a while, I’d wondered if it would’ve changed anything if I’d told him more.

Maybe we would have been closer or I would’ve found a way to rely on him when it mattered.

“Yes, my family had pets,” I said, thinking back to when he’d picked me up at the airport.

“Before my parents divorced, we had a beagle named Bella. Was I watching the sunset? The picture of Tessa in your backyard was the sunset I drew that night. How old am I? I was twenty-two, now I’m twenty-three.

Was I uncomf ortable at your house the first night? Yes, because I was confused.”

“Okay,” he interrupted. “I get it.”

“Am I quiet or introverted? No, but talking put me at risk back then because I was hiding. What was I thinking about in your kitchen before our troll conversation? I was amazed by how good of a person you are, and I realized that I both respected you and wanted to know you better. What sorts of things set me off? Anything that reminded me what I was hiding from, which was why I was always angry at you. What was wrong when we cooked pot pies? You were cleaning the flour off my face and I wanted you to touch me more, and I was getting lost in your eyes. It was one of the times that it really set in how I was beginning to feel about you.”

“Roman, okay.”

“What happened while I was there that made my thoughts about gay people change? You started to open me up. Why would I rather people not see more of me? That’s obvious.

Why didn’t it work with the people I dated?

Also obvious. Was I the one who always texted you first?

Yes. I couldn’t breathe if I went too long without talking to you.

What was wrong in the swimming hole before I tried to kiss you? I was fucking desperate for you.”

I stepped closer to him. The look in his eyes right now made me think he was close to breaking.

“Am I gay? Fuck yes, I am. Did it ever mean something to me? Always, and it still does. What do I see in your eyes? I could never capture it because I’d never understood it. I hadn’t felt it, or maybe I just didn’t let myself feel it because it didn’t fit into the person I was trying to be.”

“What is it?”

“Maybe I’ll tell you someday.”

I stepped away from him and took one last look. His brow was pinched, and with the last of the sunlight shining on the deck, his eyes turned golden like honey. The shimmer I saw there almost made me stay, but I wanted him to process what I’d told him.

Everything I’d just said made me raw, and my chest felt tight as I walked off of the deck. I just hoped it would be worth it.

**** *

The third game in Boston didn’t go as well. It was close, but the Braves’ batters weren’t on it today. That put the Red Sox at three wins, which was an uncomfortable place to be. They’d have either one or two more games, and I knew they had to be stressed and tired by this point.

We all had dinner together, and it was clear that Travis was off. He hadn’t pitched today, so he couldn’t blame himself, but I knew that didn’t help.

Tomorrow, we’d be going back to Georgia.

That was a relief. Even though it wasn’t my home, it was more familiar.

We also wouldn’t be sleeping in the same hallway.

I wouldn’t walk out of my room and look toward his door every day.

He’d be miles away at his house, and I’d only have to see him briefly at games.

Since he got into the elevator with the rest of the guys, I hung back long enough for it to reach our floor, then I started up the stairs.

I didn’t want to interact with anyone. Dinner had been fun, but I was becoming more drained by the day.

If I didn’t care so much about spending time with my friends and enjoying the games, I would go home instead of returning to Atlanta.

I pushed through the door into the hallway, then froze. Why was he in front of my room? His hands were in his pockets and he was bouncing up and down, buzzing with a sort of energy that seemed to never go away.

I considered backing up into the stairwell before he could notice me, but not so deep down, I’d wanted him to seek me out after my declaration on the boat yesterday. I didn’t want to get my hopes up, though. He might be here for something unrelated.

Taking a deep breath, I started forward. When he heard me, he turned around.

“Oh,” he said. “I thought you were in your room.”

“I’m not.”

“I see that.”

“Is there something you need? Commission rates or a good pot pie recipe?”

“You’re dangerous to cook with, so I think I’m good.”

“Cool. So, it’s about a commission, then.”

His lips thinned. I moved around him and pulled my keycard from my pocket, then turned to face him.

He closed his eyes. “I don’t trust you. ”

“That’s . . . Yeah, I guess I knew that.”

He took the keycard from my hand and reached around me to scan it, then opened the door. I sucked in a breath when he put a hand on my chest and pushed me forward until we were inside.

“You promised.” He looked pent up—maybe from the loss today or the same frustration I’d felt since I laid eyes on him in his kitchen last week.

This conversation was becoming exhausting, but he’d sought me out, and I thought that was a good sign. If he wanted to talk about it again, we could talk about it. Or fight. I wasn’t sure how it would go this time.

“I get that I hurt you,” I said softly. “But it was a couple days late, Travis.”

His expression hardened. “A couple days late is still nine fucking days. A single text. You didn’t have to be ready, and I told you that.”

“I was an idiot, I know. Regardless of what you said, I felt like I needed to have something figured out first. I wanted to have something to give you.”

“All I asked for was you.”

“You can have me. Anything you want.” He shook his head, and I felt my desperation rise. “If you still care about me, why can’t we try again?”

“Why?” he repeated incredulously. “Because of what you did. No, because of how I felt. And you can’t pretend you didn’t know how I felt because I told you. I begged you, but you still gave me nothing. I can’t forget that.”

“Then, why are you here? Why are we talking about it again?”

“I don’t know!” he shouted before he leaned back against the wall and blew out a long breath.

“Tell me you don’t care.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Did it ever mean something to you?” I asked. “Any of it?”

The way his expression cracked made my chest ache. The sadness in his eyes right now was infinitely worse than that voicemail.

“Why won’t you leave me alone?” he murmured.

“You came to my room. ”

“You texted me every day and never even asked about the project. Always ‘hey.’ I never understood why.”

“I told you. I couldn’t breathe otherwise.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Yeah, it is.”

My thumbs settled beside his hip bones, and my fingers dipped underneath his shirt. Pressing his forehead against mine, he let out a soft sound. I leaned forward, but he turned his head.

I didn’t know what was going to happen, but I had him here, right in front of me with my hands on him, and he wasn’t pulling away. If he would just open up for me, drop that armor so we could face each other with no reservations, maybe we could move forward.

If he didn’t want to kiss me, that was okay, and if he still didn’t want me, then I guess that was okay too. But I had to try because even a small chance to fix this was worth it.

“I fought what I was starting to feel for you,” I said. “I’d been doing that for so long, but with you, it was different. How did you break through all of my walls without even trying?”

“Because I’m nice.”

“And I’m an asshole, so . . .”