Page 55 of Catch Me
“Not judging. You should hire someone to keep track of your things.”
“That would be the most ridiculous job.”
“But you’d have your earbuds right now. There’s a Nightmare Before Christmas coffee cup on the banister out front. Have you been looking for that too?”
“I...” Pursing my lips, I returned my attention to the eggs. At least when I was in this place alone, I didn’t have to be reminded of the things I forgot. I snapped my fingers. “They’re in my backpack.”
“Go check.”
“No.”
He raised a taunting brow and made me second-guess myself. Since he wasn’t relenting, I grabbed it from the living room and took everything out, then flipped it upside down.
“Fuck.”
“The eggs are done,” he noted before he took a drink.
I whirled around and grabbed the pan to take it off the heat. He was leaning on his hand in a way that covered his mouth, which looked suspicious as fuck.
“Don’t say anything,” I grumbled as I put everything on a plate.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Chapter 18
Travis
When Roman said he was going to try, he wasn’t kidding. He was actually enjoyable to be around yesterday. There was a point where I was on my way to run with Tessa and found him on the front porch drawing. He’d been snappy and demanded that I leave him alone, but he awkwardly apologized when I got back, so I couldn’t really complain.
I wasn’t sure exactly what changed. Maybe it was whatever he and Tilian talked about the other night. It wasn’t my business, so I wasn’t going to ask. I was just glad there was a chance the next two and a half weeks wouldn’t be a nightmare.
He jogged over to me, and even though his face was blank, it didn’t feel hostile. “Lunch?”
“Sure. Ron ran to the bathroom, so I’m playing alone anyway.”
“Got another glove?”
I nodded toward the dugout. He disappeared for a second, then returned and held up his gloved hand. After he caught the ball, he shook out his arm.
“Jesus, man.”
“I’m a pitcher,” I pointed out with a grin.
“No shit.”
His throw showed that he was out of practice, but it was pretty good.
“What’d you play?” I asked.
“Catcher.”
“Oh, my bestie. Badass but boring.”
“Just get it over with and say you’re scared.”
Narrowing my eyes, I threw the ball harder and felt satisfied when he grunted.
“Where does your fastball sit?”
