Page 83 of Catch Me (Becoming Us #4)

Roman

“What if we did this somewhere public,” I suggested.

“Is that what you want to do?” Travis asked calmly from the couch.

I chewed on the skin around my nails as I continued to pace. My studio was too small to make it satisfying, but I couldn’t stop. I was starting to feel like Travis. Pace, pace, pace. He did it all the time, though, not just when he was stressed.

“I can invite all the guys over,” he said. “Not public, but it’d be intimidating as hell. He wouldn’t be that much of a dick, then.”

“He would.”

“Well, it’s probably a bad idea. If he says something rude, there are at least two in the group who would throw hands.”

“You wouldn’t?” I asked, smiling a little.

“Do I have permission to hit your dad? Just kidding. I wouldn’t do that unless you were in danger or you asked me to.”

That was weirdly sweet, but I couldn’t fully appreciate it in my current state.

It’d been over a month since the game, and I couldn’t put it off any longer.

Travis did a bunch of team shit, interviews and th e like, then he told them that he’d be gone for a week and wouldn’t answer his phone.

He got in yesterday, my dad would be here today, and I’d have five days with my boyfriend afterward, which might consist of me being depressed and worrying the hell out of him, but we’d see how it went.

I hadn’t answered any of my dad’s questions, and he was still demanding explanations, as if there was some other reason I’d kissed Travis on live TV.

He was coming all the way to Seattle, so he hadn’t written me off yet.

Maybe that meant there was hope. Some people gradually became more open when it was their own child, but after what he’d told my mom, I didn’t have high expectations.

Travis stood and came over to me. Sometimes, when he approached me, I felt like I had over winter break—a mixture of uncertainty and hope.

It gave way to familiarity and comfort. It was still so early in our relationship, but the connection I felt with him made it seem like it’d been longer.

If I hadn’t run the first time, we’d be coming up on a year, but we were here now.

“Relax,” he instructed softly.

“Don’t say stupid shit like that.”

“Are we back to not being agreeable?”

“Today, yes.” I watched him pour a cup of coffee, which was his fourth by my count. “It’s almost five. You’re not gonna sleep tonight.”

“It doesn’t do shit to me.”

“Why do you drink it?”

“Good question.”

“I’m done with your bullshit today.”

When I tried to walk off, he stepped into my path. “Breathe.”

“No.”

“Breathe.”

“ No .”

Putting one hand on my throat and the other on my chest, he backed me up against the counter. His fingers trailed down my abdomen, then moved to my back. When he reached my ass, he squeezed tightly and got close to my lips.

“Breathe. Now. ”

I took a deep, slow breath. He insisted it helped, but I thought the whole idea was bullshit. I breathed all day, every day, and it didn’t keep me calm.

“Good boy,” he said.

My nose wrinkled. “No. That’s not our thing.”

“Doesn’t hurt to try. Swing and a miss, I guess.”

I leaned into him, trying to draw comfort from his closeness. My dad could be here any minute, and I was too wound up.

Both of our phones buzzed, which could only mean one thing.

Sen: You’ve got this, Roman. Sending good vibes

Kai: Just keep swimming, man

Sen: No. That one is fucking obvious

Kai: Let the storm rage on

Sen: I want a divorce

Kai: You have to marry me first

Sen: A pre-divorce

Linc: Hakuna Matata

West: Everyone is having a stroke. If your dad’s a dick, knee him in the sack

Trav: Can I be removed from the group chat?

Tilian: If your dick is involved with one of the group, you get put in the chat

Trav: Are you questioning my virginity?

Brooks: I vote to remove Roman

West: Long live the king

Kai: WTF West?!

Linc: That’s a fucking crime

Kai: Completely uncalled for, you psychopath

*Kai removed West from the chat*

Kai: Peace and quiet

Linc: For you

Tilian: Suck his dick. He’ll be fine

*Linc added West to the chat*

*Kai removed West from the chat*

“I legitimately hate it here,” I said.

“I think it’s entertaining. ”

“Of course you do.”

A knock on the door made me stand straighter. Travis rubbed his hands up and down my arms while I questioned the sanity of inviting my dad here. Now, I was wondering if having Travis with me would make it worse, but then I decided that I didn’t care.

“Should I get it?” he asked.

“Am I a pussy if I say yes?”

He frowned. “Let’s not be like that. You’re allowed to feel things, baby.”

“I know. Sorry, it’s just . . .”

“You don’t have to explain. Start another pot of coffee, then we’ll all sit down and talk.”

He used my chin to make me look at him, then he kissed me softly. It helped until he walked away. Not wanting to give myself time to get lost in my head, I started getting the coffee ready.

I glanced to the side when I heard the door open. Travis was the picture of warm and friendly, as usual. Hopefully, that would help.

“Mr. Valdez,” he greeted, motioning for him to come in. “I’m Travis McKinney. I heard you’re a fan of the team.”

My dad came into view and his eyes landed on me. I couldn’t tell what exactly was on his face, but it wasn’t entirely pleasant. When Travis held out his hand, my dad ignored it.

“I know who you are,” he replied shortly.

“Hey, Dad.” I smiled at him and started the coffee, then ambled out of the kitchen. “It’s good to see you.”

“Yeah, it was nice of you to answer me after, what, a month? Not including this entire year.”

“Sorry.” I intended to say more, but everything else got stuck in my throat.

“I thought we’d be alone.”

“I never said that.”

There was a long stretch of silence that hung between us. He stared at me, and this time, I recognized the underlying hostility that he tried to hide. I could tell Travis saw it too, judging by the way he flexed his fingers every once in a while.

“Would you like coffee, sir?”

My dad looked at him with pursed lips, then nodded.

I moved to the couch and sat down, feeling grateful that there was a small chair in the corner where he could sit.

The loveseat was all that would fit on this wall, and I’d only bought the chair last week in preparation for this. It was cramped, but it worked.

“How’ve you been?” I asked. “How are Kathy and the kids?”

“Good. Everyone’s good.”

He took off his jacket and hung it on the back of the chair before he sat down. With his tattoo sleeves visible, he looked more menacing. Somehow, they felt like a threat.

Travis handed a mug to my dad, then one to me. He sat down, pressing his thigh against mine, even though there was room for him not to touch me if he wanted to. It made me panic a little, but I was glad for his closeness.

“Are you going to explain?” Dad asked.

“I’m not really sure what you want me to say,” I admitted. “You saw the game.”

“What the fuck was that about, Roman?”

Travis shifted closer and stretched his arm over the back of the couch as he brought the coffee to his lips. My dad’s eyes flashed with what I assumed was anger.

“Let’s talk about this calmly,” Travis suggested. He glanced at me and I nodded, encouraging him to go on. “Obviously, this is the first time we’ve met, and I don’t want to overstep—”

“You’re overstepping by being here. This is between me and my son.”

“And your son is why I’m here, Mr. Valdez.”

“It’s not your place to insert yourself—”

“I asked him to be here,” I interrupted. My voice came out stronger than I felt, and it helped me feel a little more confident. When Travis’ arm lowered to drape across my shoulders, I leaned back further and took a drink of my coffee.

“This isn’t you,” Dad said. “Whatever he did to make you think you’re gay”—his nose wrinkled as he said the word—“it isn’t real.”

“He didn’t make me think I’m gay, Dad. I am gay.”

“You’re my son. I know who you are. What, you think you just suddenly have feelings for a man when you’re twenty-three?” He scoffed. “You’re confused because of him and whatever message he’s spreading.”

“I’ve been sleeping with men since I was sixteen. ”

His eyes were wide as his lips parted. For a second, he just sputtered, then he shook his head. “No, you haven’t. That’s...It’s that Holloway family. They made you think this was okay.”

I breathed a dry laugh. “No, Dad. That’s not—”

“Yes, it is!” he roared, sitting forward.

I clenched my teeth and shut my eyes. Travis stroked the side of my neck, and I tried to use it to ground me, but my emotions were a mess. I wanted to latch onto anger because I knew it would feel good, at least for a minute. It would protect me, just like it had for over a decade.

Opening my eyes, I took a breath. “I’m going to explain and you’re going to listen. Or you can leave, but it’d be nice if we could actually talk, even if you’re still gonna hate me at the end of it.”

With narrowed eyes, he took a long drink. He was tense, but he didn’t get up or say anything, so I decided to go on.

“It didn’t start when I was sixteen or after Mom started dating Ross.

You were still married when I started noticing guys in a different way.

I used to look at Til in church, but I didn’t know what that meant at the time and I didn’t let myself think about it.

You were vocal about how you felt, and I just adopted your views, maybe hoping that they’d burn away what was inside me.

My anger became self-hatred, which became hostility because hurting other people made me hurt a little less.

I could think they were weak and ignore that it was actually me who was.

That’s what my therapist says, at least.”

“You hired someone to encourage this? No wonder you’re confused.”