Page 196 of Catch Me
“You’re like their chauffeur.”
“Exactly.”
“Weird. I wouldn’t think you’d do house calls.”
“I get paid per trip, and he likes to use that to my advantage. My kid is in college, so everything helps.”
“Well, bleed them for everything they’re worth.”
Maybe I was a little resentful toward the big wigs that ran the Braves. They held Travis back, keeping him from doing the things he loved. For that, I thought they were a bunch of assholes.
I didn’t know how legal it was, but I cracked one of the beers and leaned against the door, watching the night fly by. It was in the same direction as his house, so the scenery was familiar.
The restaurant we pulled up to was a few miles from his place, tucked beside a park with trees strung with fairy lights. The Willow Table, the sign read. It was some old spot with exposed brick and candles flickering on every table. I thanked Sally for the ride, and when I got inside, the hostess led me to a corner booth. I slid in, facing the door, my knee bouncing under the table. The menu sat unopened in front of me, but the words blurred as I watched the entrance.
Travis walked in a few minutes later, and my breath caught. He’d swapped his post-game attire for a grey sweater and dark jeans, and his hair was still damp from a shower. He scanned the room, then his eyes landed on me. For a second, I thought he’d bolt. But he didn’t. He crossed the floor with his hands shoved in his pockets, then dropped into the seat across from me without a word.
I tried not to show him how nervous I was. He was right about the place. It was quiet and seemed like one of those diners that was mostly visited by locals or those who took the back roads instead of the highway while traveling. It was a shame that it was dead in here because it had such a comfortable vibe that it deserved more recognition.
“Hey,” I said, my voice rougher than I meant it to be.
He picked up a menu. “Hey.”
The word made me deflate a little. I noticed that his jaw was tight, like he was clenching it to keep something in. I couldn’t tell if it was anger or nerves, and that scared me more than I’d admit.
The waitress came by, all smiles that felt strange through the tension, and I ordered a beer. Travis got water, which wasn’t surprising considering he had his last game of the series tomorrow. I was actually shocked he’d come out at all.
She left, and the silence stretched between us. I tapped my fingers on the table, then stopped when I saw him glance at them.
“So,” I started, leaning forward. “Are you sure you want to be here with me?”
He looked up, his brown eyes sharp. “I don’t say shit I don’t mean, Roman.”
I swallowed, nodding. “Right. I just... I needed to hear it again.”
He huffed, a sound that wasn’t quite a laugh. “You’re a mess, you know that?”
“Yeah.” I smirked, but it felt forced. “I’ve been told.”
The drinks came, and I took a long pull from the beer, letting the cold bite ground me. Travis sipped his water, watching me over the rim of the glass. I couldn’t read him when he was like this, all closed off and guarded. It made me want to claw my way through, rip down whatever wall he’d built since I’d left him all those months ago.
“Why’d you pick this place?” I asked, glancing around. The fairy lights outside glowed through the window, casting soft shadows on his face.
He shrugged. “It’s quiet. Figured we’d need it.”
“s it always so dead?”
“Only when I need it to be.”
“Did you... You didn’t, like, buy it out for the night, did you?”
There was a quirk to the side of his lips as he continued to study the menu. I traced the rim of my bottle with my thumb, searching for something to say that wouldn’t sound desperate.
“I’m glad you’re here.”
His eyes flicked to mine, then away. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
That stung, but I deserved it. I leaned back, forcing my hands to still.
