Page 66 of Catch Me (Becoming Us #4)

Travis

I’d asked myself what I was doing so many times in the past week that it had become my mantra.

Might as well try it again.

What the fuck am I doing?

No matter how many times I asked, I couldn’t come up with an answer.

There was the immediate urge to run back to Roman’s room and put everything on the line for him.

Honestly, if he very clearly asked me to, I’d probably just do it and pray to the universe that it didn’t fuck me up as bad as last time.

I was fine before. It had been almost a year, and even though it was still there, lurking in the background, it was beginning to become part of my past. If it came into my head, I felt it again, but one day, it would have faded into a distant what-if.

It would be so easy to give in. I’d already done that back in his room—at least, physically.

For me, that was a lot, and it was messing with my head, but if I was being honest, my head was already trying to dive in.

It had been since the moment I saw him in my damn kitchen, petting Tessa like it was December again .

We couldn’t go back to that, but if I chose to, we could go forward.

He’d already expressed his interest in that, and of all people, I knew how huge that was for him.

A year ago, he’d be fighting tooth and nail.

Even when he’d given in, he’d been so afraid.

Fear still lived in his eyes, but there was also bravery, a kind that came from discovering who he was and choosing not to apologize for it.

I was fucking proud of him.

And part of me hated that.

I’d been so lost in my thoughts that when someone set a beer in front of me, I jumped.

We weren’t getting drunk tonight for obvious reasons, but Spencer wanted us to take a load off.

Today had been game five, and they were all so close together that there’d been a few moments when I wondered why I’d decided to play baseball.

After the World Series was over, I might need a solid couple of weeks off from even looking at a ball.

“You’re spacey,” Mikey noted, scooting his chair closer to me.

“I’m good. Tired like everyone else.”

“Is it Roman?”

Staring into my beer, I casually traced the rim of the glass. “Why would it be Roman?”

He snorted. “I’ve seen him at the games, and more importantly, I’ve seen you see him.”

“Pretty sure you’re just drunk.”

“Shut the fuck up, man. Do whatever you’re gonna do, but you’re allowed to talk about it, you know.”

“He’s just a friend.”

“Something happened. In January, you were really off.”

After draining my beer, I leaned an elbow on the table and looked at him. “You’re so obsessed with my love life. You sure you aren’t into me?”

He chuckled around his glass. “If I ever find myself curious about the other side, you’ll be the first man I contact.”

I frowned. “Curiosity is a hard pass for me, but I bet Tony would be all for exploration.”

When Mikey laughed, Tony looked over at us. A scowl took up residence on his face, and with his mustache, he looked a bit like Waluig i. I opened my mouth but shut it quickly, deciding it wasn’t the best thing to say when we were supposed to be good sports.

“Alright,” Spencer said. He got to his feet and held a hand up until the guys quieted down. “If we win in Atlanta—”

“When,” I corrected.

He smiled and pointed at me. “Exactly. When we win, we’ll go down in history.

We have two chances back home, and I don’t want us to end up losers on our own goddamn field, so I need you to rest up tomorrow and give it everything you have on Tuesday.

Everything . McKinney, you wanna say something?

You’re bouncing like an excited toddler. ”

“Or like there’s a dick beneath him,” Dan chortled, not bothering to say it quietly.

He met my eyes smugly, and I couldn’t turn away. Their endless jabs rarely got under my skin if they were only directed at me. Tonight, his words pissed me off. I remembered what Tony had said about Roman the day he worked with them. Dan deserved a knee to the dick too.

“McKinney,” Spencer prompted.

I got out of my seat and crossed my arms. “We’ll win back home. There’s no question about it.”

“Because you’re our front guy!” Jude shouted, earning a couple of cheers. The way he glanced at Tony’s pinched face made me offer him an appreciative smile.

“This year is ours,” I stated, “and I refuse to accept any different. Yeah, it’s my first World Series, and a lot of yours.

We could just be proud that we made it this far, and we are, but this.

..” I looked around the table, at all of my teammates.

“This is our fucking year.” The group cheered loudly and it made my spirits lift even more.

“We get to go home and beat them on our field before we send them back here.”

“But we’ll be good sports about it,” Spencer called above the ruckus.

“In front of them and the cameras.”

He laughed along with everyone else before he sat down and started a conversation with some of the guys.

Now that the excitement had died down, I didn’t really want to be here. We weren’t drinking more tonight, and sitting around talking didn’t spark joy—not when my mind was elsewhere .

“I’m gonna go,” I told Mikey.

“See you Tuesday, man. Make sure your head is together.”

I clapped him on the shoulder on the way out. Once I made it outside, I shivered and tugged my coat closed. Boston was significantly colder at this time of year, and I wasn’t built for it.

“Hey, McKinney.”

For a second, I kept walking because I knew that voice. I had no idea why he’d come after me, but after a moment, I decided to turn around and raise a brow.

“What’s up, Tony? Need an escort back to the hotel?”

His lip curled. “Inviting me to your room now? I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“I’m not in the mood for your shit tonight,” I replied brusquely.

“Yeah, you don’t put on that nice guy facade when nobody else is around.”

I scoffed and started walking again. He grabbed my arm and spun me around. Pulling out of his grip, I immediately shoved him backward.

“Don’t touch me,” I warned.

“Jesus Christ. I’m just trying to talk to you.”

“You’d better get to the point quickly because my patience is nonexistent at this point.”

“I know we don’t get along,” he said. It was impossible not to let out a huff of laughter. “I’m just saying we don’t have to be enemies.”

“I didn’t make us enemies, Tony. In fact, I go out of my way not to be a dick to you most of the time. Forgive me if that becomes less and less important to me, especially since I don’t have to prove my worth anymore.”

His lips thinned and it hit me. I wanted to laugh, but I also wanted to pity him. Both would definitely piss him off.

“If you want to pitch more, that’s between you and Spencer,” I pointed out.

“All you do is tell him and he puts you in.”

“Yeah, well, that’s how the game works, right? No matter how good you are, if someone comes up who’s better, you either have to work harder and rise to their level or accept your place in the backseat. Might want to keep your eye on Carter too. He’s got a pitch that rivals yours two years ago. ”

The anger that contorted his face was just what I expected. I wasn’t sure if my response was rude or simply honest. If he thought I’d tell Spencer I wanted to pitch less so that this asshole could get field time, he was a fucking maniac.

“You have years ahead of you,” he said. “More opportunities.”

“We’re pitchers. It could be a decade or just one more season before our arm loses its value. That’s the risk each of us takes for this spot. You had your time, man. I’m not passing the torch just because you didn’t make it here in your prime.”

“Fuck you, McKinney. And your fanboy boyfriend.”

Before he could walk away, I grabbed his biceps and shoved him up against a building. The force of it made him grunt, and he looked shocked.

“Are you fucking stupid?” I asked. “You don’t know how to learn from past mistakes? Maybe you just really like pissing people off. I bet it makes you feel a sense of accomplishment you don’t at home or on the field.”

He tried to push me away, but I held on to him. I wasn’t sure exactly what I was going to do. I did know what I wanted to do, though. After taking a few measured breaths, I stepped back and released him.

Tony laughed as he smoothed out his shirt. “You’re a pussy, McKinney.”

“Better that than whatever the hell you are.”

“Let’s just see how badly it fucks you up when the kid leaves you again.”

Tipping my head back, I tried to convince myself this bastard didn’t deserve to get his ass beat. I didn’t have to sink into my delusions, though, because he made the first move. When his fist came toward my face, I tilted my body to evade it, then I grabbed onto his wrist.

“If I was really a pussy,” I said, “I’d let myself snap your throwing arm, but that would be weak. I have nothing to prove to you, and your opinions about me don’t mean shit. Don’t ever try to hit me again.”

As soon as I released him, he swung again.

It was always the ones who talked a big game that couldn’t live up to their own hype.

His fist was easy to dodge, and really, it was his fault when his nose crunched beneath my knuckles.

He stumbled backward, and I grabbe d him by the hair to throw him against the wall.

I didn’t slam his face into it, but gravity sure helped him get there.

“You’re gonna be out of the fucking game for this,” he said from behind his bloody hand.