The Perfect Game(77)

I swallowed hard as my throat burned with repressed emotion. “I’m gonna be late to class. I have to go. Thanks for telling me.” I turned on my heel and walked away as fast as my quivering legs would move me.







I paced in the living room, my body a bundle of nervous energy as I waited for Melissa to get home from night class. The door flung open as a gust of wind practically blew Melissa inside. She pushed her small body against the door, shutting it with a loud slam before turning to face me, her hair tangled across her face.

“I hate the wind.” She jutted out her bottom lip and blew a huff of air against the pieces covering her mouth.

I frowned. “Me too.” I plunked down on the couch and picked nervously at the edge of a cushion. “I need to talk to you.”

“So talk.” She flipped the kitchen light on, searching the cupboards for her bag of butter-flavored pretzels.

“I want to go out there.”

“Go out where?” She turned and squinted at me in confusion.

“Alabama. I need to see him, Melissa. Or maybe he needs to see me? I don’t know, but what if I can stop the wedding?”

“Why would you want to stop the wedding?” Her head cocked to one side as she crunched on a pretzel.

“Because.”

“Because why, Cassie? This guy cheated on you. And he lied.” Leave it to Melissa to press the issue, forcing me to examine my heart.

“I know. And I always believed that cheating was an unforgiveable act. That once you broke down that foundation of trust, it could never be rebuilt. But I was wrong. I don’t want him to marry someone else, Melissa. I don’t know that I can get past what he’s done, but I’m willing to try.”

She stared at me like she’d known this all along and was simply waiting for me to figure it out.

“So why are we still talking about it?”

“Because I don’t have the money for a ticket.” I sighed, plucking at the frayed edges of the throw pillow. “And I was wondering if I could borrow some? I’ll pay you back, I swear.”

“How will you pay me back? You don’t even have a real job.” Even though she was telling the truth, I still wanted to smack her.

“I didn’t say I’d pay you back next week, but I will pay you back.” Irritated at her reluctance, I squeezed the pillow to my stomach, trying to push back at my emotions.

“I’m just messing with you. Let’s go book you some flights!” She tossed the bag of pretzels into the air before heading into the bedroom. I laughed as they spilled out onto the floor.

“And a rental car. And a hotel,” I shouted.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ve got it covered. Get in here!”







The lights at the baseball stadium flicked off as the last of the fans pulled out of the gravel lot. The opposing team piled onto their bus and the engine roared to life with a loud puff of smoke. I stood next to my rented Ford Mustang and watched as the home team players sporadically filed out of the locker room. My legs were shaking like crazy, my nerves completely frayed.

I noticed Jack immediately. He was freshly showered, his black hair still dripping wet. A smile crept across my face and I knew without a doubt that if my eyes could sparkle like stars, they would have. Seeing him almost brought me to my knees.

I watched as his eyes scanned the parking lot for his car, before they stopped on me. He looked away and then quickly jerked back, his hair spraying water from the force of the turn.

“Kitten?” He dropped his bag, running.

“I hate when you call me that,” I half shouted with a smile.

“What are you doing here?”

I leaned my back into the car as he kissed the side of my face and then stood far too close. I felt my stomach drop to my knees. And my knees drop to my feet. And my feet…well, they could barely stand. He wrapped his arms around me and I nuzzled into his neck, breathing him in. I stopped my fingers from running through his wet hair. I stopped my hands from gripping the back of his neck and pulling him to me. I stopped my mouth from attacking his.

God, I missed him. What was left of my broken heart belonged to him. Every jagged shard had his name written all over it in permanent black ink.

He gently pulled back from our embrace before asking me again, “What are you doing here, Cass?”

“I just…” I hadn’t thought about what I was going to say, which was really stupid. I’d just been so consumed in the process of getting to Alabama so I could see him, I hadn’t really thought through what I was going to say once I got there. “I just wanted to talk to you.”

“You could have called.” His teasing tone was so familiar, bringing memories crashing back that made my throat start to burn.