Page 174 of Catch Me
Chapter 58
Roman
As I sat at the bar, I nursed a beer. I wasn’t trying to get drunk, but I needed something to help me relax. Our seats were incredible and gave us an amazing view. It was loud as hell, though, and I didn’t really feel like being around all the guys right now.
Not that it helped being in here. Travis was pitching this inning, and he was front and center on the TV. I could hear the crowd every time he threw the ball—the Red Sox fans cheering when their batter got a hit in, and the Braves fans doing the same when Travis struck someone out.
I was feeling pathetic today. No matter how hard I tried, his words kept repeating back to me.I don’t want anything from you.
It was a lie. At least, I wanted it to be a lie. He went back and forth, just like I did. Maybe it was a dick move to push him, yet I wanted to march onto that field right this second and push him even more.
Then, I thought about all those cameras. Declaring my feelings for him on live TV would be a poor decision for sure. Plus, the rejection would sting that much more.
Linc and Kai wanted me to keep on trucking, which seemed dumb when I thought about it rationally. When had I ever been rational, though?
Leave it alone, I told myself. He had a right to put boundaries in place, and it was disrespectful for me to push them.
“Maybe they should put Tony in,” a guy at a nearby table said.
His friend took a long swig of his beer. “Think so?”
“Last couple pitches haven’t been great. Maybe he’s losing his touch.”
The other guy laughed. “He’d better not wear out that arm just yet. We could win this thing this year.”
“I’ve got a lot of money on it,” the first man agreed.
They both blew out a sharp breath when the batter hit the ball into left field.
“Bastard. That one’s gonna hurt them.”
“They’d better use Tony next inning.”
“Shut the fuck up,” I said, staring into my beer.
I could feel their eyes on me, but I avoided looking at them. They sounded like they were drunk, and I shouldn’t have said anything at all.
“You don’t like us talking about baseball?” one of them asked.
I shrugged. “Don’t talk about what you don’t know.”
He chuckled. “We’ve been watching longer than you’ve been alive.”
“Then you should know that Tony’s arm has been shit all season. He wore it out last year, probably trying to out throw his competition.”
“He seems fine to me.”
I shook my head, signaling for the bartender to close my tab. “Watch when he pitches next. His arm stutters after a few throws, and his pitches are leaning to the left. Probably his rotator cuff. He’s on his way out, and he knows it.”
The two men looked at each other. When I got my card back, I offered them a tight smile.
“This isn’t Tony’s World Series. It’s Travis’. You can put money on that.”
For the rest of the game, I walked around inside. I listened to the roar of the crowd, unsure who they were cheering for, but I imagined it was him. He probably loved that. I wanted to see that wide smile on his face, but I didn’t deserve it.
Pulling out my phone, I called my mom. There were some things nobody could fix, but a mom could at least ease the ache.
“Hey, Rome,” she answered.
