Page 37 of Catch Me
Since he’d called me out, I wasn’t sure what to say. It kind of looked like he was trying not to smile. I just remained expressionless while I waited.
“You can be straight with me,” he went on.
“Okay.”
“I’m gonna make some dinner, so if you’re hungry—”
“I’m good,” I interrupted.
“Since you don’t want to eat with me, I’ll leave some out. You can come collect it like a fairy receiving offerings from the humans.”
I scowled, but before I could think of a retort, he started walking down the hall.
“Hey!” I called, taking a few steps out of the room. “Are you trying to taunt me or something?”
He turned and crossed his arms over his chest. “It was just a joke.”
“It wasn’t funny.”
“Jesus. Long car ride, my bad. Feel free to have a nap.”
When he turned again, my frustration peaked. “Fuck you,” I muttered.
He whirled around before I could make it back to the room. “Are you fucking serious, Roman?”
He came closer, and I almost backed up, but I didn’t want to look like a pussy. When he stopped in front of me, I saw anger in his expression. It was like the day he came out of Pete’s office.
“I told you that if you have an issue, you can stay in a hotel. There’s no reason for you to come in here acting like an asshole after five minutes.” His knuckles were white from making fists at his sides. When he saw me looking, he shoved his hands into his pockets and stepped back. “Sorry. It’s been a shitty couple weeks.”
“Why?”
He laughed. “You want to know why?”
“Yeah.” My voice came out weaker than it should have.
“Believe it or not, I’m not interested in sharing that with you.” He glanced at my chest for less than a second. “Enjoy your shower.”
I watched him until he disappeared around the corner. Part of me wanted to apologize while the other part didn’t want to smooth things over. It was better if we didn’t talk much over the next three weeks. If I could, I wouldn’t even stay that long, but they’d set up schedules for the team to work with me. They wanted me to draw every single player, as well as a team portrait. It was a lot of fucking work, but they were paying me really well. It wasn’t just a calendar; it was postcards and other merch. I was still shocked that they’d liked my art that much.
It was because of Travis that I had this project, and here I was, acting like a dick. I didn’t actively tell myself to do it. He was cool and I liked him, but I was making him hate me. It was the same thing I’d done to Til when we were teenagers, even if I wasn’t being as hostile about it as I had when I was younger.
Why was I doing that here?
Why did I do it back then?
Realizing I was still in the hall, I returned to my room and closed the door. I was due for a shower, and if I could pull myself together, I might go eat some dinner.
While I washed myself, I wondered if he would be done eating by the time I went out there. After what happened, he might not even give me any food, which was fair. Maybe I should wait longer to make sure he’d be gone.
I wasn’t generally an over-thinker. I didn’t want to get into the habit now, so I dressed in sweats and a t-shirt, then ventured out of the room. It was day one, and if it went to shit this early, the rest of my time here would suck.
An apology was the best course of action. He’d said he was sorry just because he reacted to my verbal attack. I was in the wrong, so I could meet him in the middle at the very least.
It smelled amazing out here, and I would’ve asked what he was making, but he wasn’t in the kitchen. I wondered if he ever sat down and relaxed. From what I’d seen, I doubted it.
There was soft music coming from outside, so I made my way to the back door. What I saw there made me freeze.
Travis was on the deck, standing on a mat, and he was doing yoga. He moved more gracefully than his tall, muscular body should’ve allowed. And, fuck, I had a view of just how fit he was.
