The Perfect Game(67)

I heard her footsteps racing after me as I beelined straight for Logan. “Jack, wait!” She grabbed my shirt with her free hand.

“Stop grabbing me. What the hell do you want?” I spun to face her, my head feeling like it weighed a hundred pounds as the room spun around me.

“I just want to hang out with you,” she said, her voice innocent.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. You’re not very good at accepting the word no,” I spat, noticing the blue of her eyes.

Fuck.

This isn’t good.

I’m drunk.

And she’s hot.

“You can teach me,” she teased, a playful smile spreading across her face.

“Chrystle. Leave me the fuck alone. I’m gonna stop being nice.”

“This is you being nice?” She winked before slapping my ass and heading onto the dance floor.

I hurried to the booth and scooted in. “Keep that bitch away from me.” Logan lifted his head in a daze as I elbowed him in the ribs.

He laughed. “I already told you to stay away from her.”

“Well, it’s hard when she follows me everywhere.”

“Then stop going places. Sit still. Drink this,” he said, before pushing another tequila-filled shot glass toward me.

“You don’t have to get me drunk to take advantage of me,” I joked.

“Shut up, dickhead. Drink.”

I downed the shot quickly. “You’re going to have to carry me out of here.”

“Shit. You’re going to have to carry me,” Logan stuttered.

“Maybe they’ll let us sleep here.” I laughed and pulled out my cell phone.

“No! No cell phones tonight, man. You just pitched a no-hitter! We’re getting fucked up!” Logan shouted before sliding my cell phone down the length of the table.

“Dick! Hey, Chance, gimme my phone, will you?” I shouted toward my teammates on the other end.

Chance looked down, his eyes widened, and he pushed it forcefully. I watched as it practically flew and landed in my lap with a thud.

“What did I tell you?” Logan yelled, his eyelids half closed.

“I’m just gonna text Cass, then I’ll shut it off,” I promised my drunk friend. I typed out the text as quickly as I could, which wasn’t very quick considering how drunk I was.

I miss yo9 os fukkeng mucb. Wish u wede hefd.

I stared at the text message before pressing Send. I knew I’d spelled words wrong, but I was too drunk to care about fixing it.

I couldn’t remember the last time I felt this fucked up. My vision blurred, my head spun, my legs shook as I walked, and my defenses were definitely down on the floor somewhere with my good judgment. I spotted Chrystle on the dance floor and suddenly couldn’t tear my eyes away from her tiny little body as she shook it. She watched me watching her and I knew I was in trouble.

Look away, you idiot.

Hot prickles shot through my body, but I ignored their warning, watching Chrystle grind her tight little body against another girl’s. Her hips dipped and moved in perfect rhythm and I suddenly couldn’t stop thinking about fucking her. If she moved like that on the dance floor…

The song changed and she ditched her dance partner and headed toward me. “I knew you liked what you saw earlier. You were just playing hard to get.”

“I didn’t like it earlier, but I like it now.” I slurred my words.

’Cause I’m fucking loaded and I can’t think straight.

“Is that right? Earlier you had a girlfriend.” She toyed with me, pressing her sweaty body against mine as I instantly became aroused.

Cassie.

“Earlier you didn’t care.”

“I still don’t,” she sassed before grinding her hips into me.

“You better stop doing that or it’s gonna get you in trouble.”

I want to give her some trouble.

Some good, hard trouble.

“Maybe I wanna get into trouble?” She turned her body around and pressed her ass against me before bending over to pick something up off the floor. “I dropped this. Sorry.”

Fuck. Me.

I grabbed her wrist and pulled her to me. When our bodies were pressed up against each other, she reached down and placed her hand on my zipper. “Take me home, Jack.”

“You know this doesn’t mean anything, right? It’s just sex.” Drunken truth spilled from my lips.

“You sure know how to romance a girl,” she pouted as her bottom lip jutted out.

“Fucking isn’t romantic. And that’s all we’re gonna do.” I grabbed her hand and attempted to pull her toward the exit. “You can drive, right?” I asked as I struggled to stay upright.

“I’m sober as a judge.” She dangled her keys in the air.