Page 195 of Catch Me
“You can be patient, right?” he asked.
He said it was my turn, but he was clearly still trying to challenge me. I should have expected it. “No, I’m starving.”
He shrugged. “You can wait in here.”
I walked inside, keeping my distance from him. With a wink, he continued toward the bathroom. I heard the door lock, and I dropped into a chair. My heart was racing with a mixture of fear and excitement.
I had to be honest with myself, though. There was a lot that could stop us. Jumping right in was a mistake we’d made before, and I’d be a damn fool if I let us fall into that again. At the very least, we had to have some real conversations.
Could we see ourselves reflected in each other’s eyes like my dad said? Maybe. Or we might be beating a dead horse, dragging out the inevitable when we should’ve allowed it to fade away into the past.
Getting to my feet, I walked out the door.
Chapter 64
Roman
I’d never been good at waiting. The hotel room felt too small after Travis left, his offer to have dinner with me still ringing in my ears like a promise I didn’t deserve. My hands itched to draw, to pin down the way his eyes had held mine as he stood there. The desperation in them was a flickering beacon, like he was punishing me and begging me all at once.
But I didn’t want to put it on paper right now. Not until I got through this tonight. I just stood there, staring at the door he’d walked out of.
He’d texted while I was in the shower.
Travis:Out front. 7
No frills, no explanation. Just Travis being Travis. I glanced at the clock. Forty-five minutes to figure out how to not fuck this up again.
I toweled off my hair, the repetitive tug on the strands doing nothing to loosen the knot in my chest. My reflection in the steamed-up mirror looked like a stranger. My hair was wild, and water droplets descended down my temples. My eyes were too wide with something I didn’t want to name. Hope, maybe. Fear, definitely.
I dragged a comb through my hair, threw on a black button-up and jeans, and grabbed my tablet out of habit. It felt like armor, even if I wasn’t sure I’d need it.
After I brushed my teeth and tidied my hair just a little, I slipped into my boots. I rolled up the sleeves of my shirt, displaying my tattoos. Flexing my fingers, I watched the muscles move beneath the ink on my forearms. I remembered when we’d laid in bed together and he’d traced the lines, over and over again. Who knew that would make me feel safe?
Taking a breath, I decided it was time to leave. Despite everything he’d said, I was struck by this fear that he just wouldn’t be there when I got outside. He’d given me an hour, which was a lot of time for him to change his mind. All of that hurt could have bubbled back up and sent him running, just like I’d done to him.
When I got outside, I looked around, but I didn’t see his Jeep. My nerves were shot as I continued to scan the area. I even listened, hoping there would be a bark. All I heard was the sound of voices that blended together and horns blaring in the street.
One of them came from a sleek, black car on the curb. It was incredibly fancy, and even though this hotel was nice, it stood out. As I continued to stare, the passenger window rolled down, revealing a middle-aged woman with curly blonde hair.
“Roman,” she called.
I looked around, despite that being my name. Stepping closer, I leaned down to look through the window.
“Uh, hi.”
“Get in,” she said, jerking her chin toward the back.
This was weird, but I did it anyway. I slid into the backseat, my hands gliding across the leather interior. There was a six-pack of beer on the floor, which happened to be my favorite kind.
Okay . . .
“Did Travis send you?”
She laughed. “Who else?”
“Alright, I’m gonna need an explanation here.”
“I’m Sally. I work for the team,” she explained as she pulled onto the street. “I drive their bus, and sometimes, I bring them to events or locations to film commercials.”
