The Game Changer (The Perfect Game #2)

The Game Changer (The Perfect Game #2) Page 20

Shoving the bag that contained my damp shirt into my purse, I headed out of the bathroom and in the direction of the locker room. I prayed Jack wouldn’t be able to tell that anything happened and that I’d be able to hold it all in. I knew keeping this from him was probably wrong, but I convinced myself that it was in Jack’s best interest. He needed to keep his mind on the field and his head in the game at all times. He wouldn’t be able to do that if he knew this kind of shit occurred. And I’d never be able to forgive myself if anything happened to his career because of me.

A Lot of the Guys Cheat

Jack

After the game and the team meeting, I changed, took a quick shower, and headed out of the navy blue locker room doors. I burst through, looking around for her face. The minute I locked on her tired green eyes, I knew something was off.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, as my protective instincts flared.

Her lips formed a tight smile and I eyed the Mets shirt that hugged the curves of her body. “Nothing’s wrong. Like my new shirt?”

She turned around, lifting her hair to proudly display my last name and jersey number written on the back of the shirt. Carter 23.

“Like it? I fucking love it,” I answered and her face softened, but the worry lines between her eyes remained.

My mind instantly flashed back to the night she was mugged at Fullton State. She was with a group of my teammates heading toward campus to meet up with me when a guy high on drugs and alcohol assaulted them and claimed to have a gun. I was scheduled to throw out the first pitch for the softball team that night, but I left the second I heard whispers about what happened, running into Dean and Brett along the way. I remember sprinting across the parking lot as quick as my legs would move me, toward the street searching for any signs of her. When I saw her silhouette, being helped up by my buddy Cole as they walked, I nearly crumpled with pain. It was my job to protect her and keep her safe, and I failed.

Seeing her beautiful face bruised and beaten in my mind caused my blood to start boiling. I promised her that night that I’d never let anyone hurt her again, and I meant it. The thought alone could make me come completely unglued. No one could fuck with my Kitten like that ever again.

“You going to tell me what’s wrong?” I pressed again and she avoided my eyes.

“Really it’s nothing. I just want to go home. I’m exhausted.”

I leaned my head toward her, my lips grazing over her ear as I whispered, “I know you’re lying. Tell me in the car.” I kissed her ear before pulling my lips away and throwing my arm around her shoulder.

I relaxed the moment she pulled her body into mine and confessed, “I love you. I’m so fucking happy that you’re here. That we’re here together. You know that, right?” She smiled as the words left her lips.

God I loved that smile. I loved everything about this woman.

“I am too. I love you.”

I refused to stop for any fan autographs or pictures, instead walking straight to the car, my arm around my girl. Cassie’s body tensed as small flashes of light exploded around us. I was used to this, but she wasn’t. I squeezed her tighter, longing to reassure whatever bothered her.

“Hey, Matteo.”

“Hi, Jack. Cassie.” His smile quickly faded when he said her name. He sensed it too. Something was wrong.

Once in the privacy of our car, I reached for Cassie’s hand, stroking the top with my thumb. “Tell me what’s wrong, Kitten.”

The car sped forward and Matteo glanced at us in the rearview.

“I’m just really tired, Jack. It’s a long day when I come straight here after work, you know?”

She had a point. Cass was gone in the mornings before I woke up, and we didn’t get home until well after eleven.

“You don’t have to come to all the games.” I offered her a way out. Did I want her there? Of course I did. I wanted that girl everywhere I was. But maybe I was being unreasonable by asking her to come to the games when I don’t even play.

Her eyes softened, and I had to touch her. I cupped her chin in my palm, her eyes closing. “I want to be at your games, Jack. I’ll miss plenty of them because of work. I want to watch every one that I can.”

I sighed.

Actually fucking sighed.

Matteo was probably thinking about what a giant pussy I was. Hell, I was thinking about what a giant pussy I was.

I changed the subject. She was avoiding my question for a reason, and I refused to push her about it in the car. I’d ask her again once we were home…and alone. I handed her a manila envelope filled with paperwork.

“What is this?” She scrunched up her nose, and it was so goddamned cute that I instantly hardened.

“It’s my travel schedule for the next three weeks.”

Her eyes widened, “Oh! I meant to ask you about that the other night, but I completely forgot.”

“Well here it is.” I slid my hand up her thigh. “Part of it anyway,” I added before she swatted my hand away.

“Stop it,” she whispered, her cheeks turning pink.

I loved the way I affected her. It made me even harder, and I adjusted my jeans, attempting to relieve the pressure. She flipped through the papers, pausing to read some pages more thoroughly than others. I leaned into her neck, the smell of her skin overwhelming my senses. I kissed her softly, allowing my tongue to glide up her neck as she released a slight gasp.

“I’m going to fuck you in the back of this car while Matteo watches if you don’t stop making those noises.”

Her jaw dropped open, her eyes falling to the bulge in my pants before widening with embarrassment. “Jack!”

“Screaming my name isn’t going to help you,” I teased, my tongue sliding around her earlobe as I sucked it in my mouth gently.

“Oh my God,” she whispered. “Stop.” She adjusted her body, moving my face away with her hands. “Wait ’til we get home,” she begged, casting a glance in Matteo’s direction.

I moved my hand up her thigh again, stopping before I reached her spot. Want filled her eyes, even through her constant pleading for me to stop. I pulled away swiftly, putting my hands behind my head and leaning back into them. “OK. I can wait.”

Her chest heaved, her breathing uneven.

Fuck. I couldn’t wait, but teasing her was worth it.

She attempted to distract herself by flicking through the paperwork again, her hands shaking. “So this is all your travel information. Flight, hotel, bus, and game times?”

“Yep. It’s all there.” I tried to ignore the throbbing between my legs.

“I have a question.”

How the hell do females just turn off the ability to be turned on? It’s like they’re superheroes or something. Can go from worked up to shut down in two seconds flat! Guys don’t work like that.

“I have an answer,” I said as evenly as possible.

“Who does all this for you guys? Someone has to book all your flights and coordinate all this. I’d freaking die if I had to do all that administrative bullshit,” she admitted, shaking her head.

“We have a travel secretary. Her name’s Alison, and I’ll give you all her contact information in case you ever need to reach her.” I tilted my head to each side, cracking my neck loudly.

“What happens when I want to go to an away game? Do I call her for my travel too?”

I laughed. “No. She only books the team’s travel. All the wives, girlfriends, and kids are on their own.”

“Jeez. But if I wanted to get on the same flight with you, I can, right?” she asked as two worry lines appeared above the bridge of her nose.

I shook my head. “No. We have a team plane that—”

“You have a team plane? Like a Mets plane?”

I rubbed my eyes with the back of my hand. “No. If you’d let me finish.”

“Finish,” she interrupted with a smirk, and I wanted to finish her.

“We have a commercial airline that we charter, so no one else can go on it. It’s just the team, the manager, the coaches, the trainers, and the equipment guys. And we don’t sit in the airport or anything either. We use a separate area so we don’t have to deal with fans.”

“I had no idea all that happened. That’s pretty cool for you guys. Sorta shitty for me.” Her lips formed a small faked snarl. “But whatever.”

“What’s with the snarl?”

She huffed, “Well Nora mentioned that I might be able to do some assignment shooting in conjunction with your road trips. But that’s not firm or anything.”

“You’d get to travel with me and work? I love it.” The idea of having her travel with me all the time was exactly what I wanted, and I refused to hide my enthusiasm over the suggestion.

“Don’t get too excited. She only mentioned it once and she also said it might not work.” She cocked her head to the side before asking, “Do a lot of the wives go to the away games? I mean, what about the ones with kids?”

“Most of them don’t travel with the team. I think it’s just easier to stay home.”

She nodded. “OK. So if I want to go to an away game, I have to book my own flight, and what else?”

“You’d have to get a rental car. The team travels by bus. And you’d have to let me know you’re coming because Alison would need to change my room.”

“Change your room, how?”

I shifted in my seat, uncomfortable about the information I was about to divulge. “If a wife or girlfriend comes to an away game, we get put on a different floor of the hotel than the rest of the team. Or if there’s another wing to the hotel, we get moved over there.”

I braced myself, wondering what was going on in that pretty little head of hers. “If a wife or girlfriend comes, you’re separated from the rest of the team? I don’t get it.”

Oh, Jesus.

“Basically it’s for your own good. There are things you don’t want to see on the road, Kitten. And if we’re not on the same floor as them, then you won’t necessarily see it.” I coughed into my hand. “Unless you go into the hotel bar. Don’t ever go into the hotel bar. Don’t even look in there. Do you hear me?”

She still looked lost. I needed to spell it out for her, and I really didn’t fucking want to. Not with our history. Not with our painful past. I imagined the groupies and cleat-chasers that showed up in the hotel bars every night after our games. They always knew which hotel the team stayed at and didn’t hesitate to make themselves available to any player who wanted them.

I’d seen things happen in those bars I wished I could erase from my memory, and I didn’t want them seared into hers. I hated hurting her. I glanced toward Matteo, who clearly knew what I was about to say. He quickly shook his head, as if advising me not to tell her.

“A lot of the guys cheat on their wives, Kitten. That’s why we’re put on another floor if we’re actually with our wives or girlfriends. And that’s why you avoid the hotel bar at all costs. There are things you do not want to see in there. OK?”