The Game Changer (The Perfect Game #2)

The Game Changer (The Perfect Game #2) Page 23

“You could always quit your job and come with me. Then we’d never be apart.” He smirked as my stomach dropped and my pulse quickened.

“Don’t say that. You know I hate when you say shit like that,” I warned as heat rushed to my cheeks.

“Ah, Kitten. I’m just messing around.”

“Well, don’t,” I snapped, my tone harsh and laced with bitterness. This wasn’t the first time Jack had mentioned me not working. I flashed back to meeting Gran and Gramps for the first time when he’d said the same thing. “Not with my job, OK? It’s important to me. I want to work. And if that means we don’t get to be together that often during your season, then,” I shrugged again, “I guess we won’t be together that often.”

“I just want you to be happy,” he admitted sweetly but it was too late. Jack picked the one topic that forced me to react in such a vicious way that I wanted to reach across the bed and rip his heart out. My defenses crawled into every crevice of my body, spreading its barbed wire protective coating all around.

“Then don’t ask me to quit again. Not even in a joking way. It tears me up inside.” My work was the one thing I had that was all for me. It wasn’t about Jack. It wasn’t about us. It wasn’t about anyone or anything else. “Photography is my passion, Jack. It owns pieces of my soul, my guts, everything inside of me. My entire being comes alive whenever I stand behind that lens shooting, and I worked really hard to get to this point.”

“I know you have. And I’m sorry,” he backpedaled. “I just meant that I’ll miss you. I want you with me all the time. I hate traveling, and I’ll just wish you were there. But we’ll never have that as long as you’re working.”

I whipped my head in his direction, my gaze glaring. “I can’t not work, Jack. Don’t you get that? How can you, of all people, not get that?”

I learned a long time ago that no one was going to do things for me. If I had a dream I wanted to reach, I had to claw my way toward it and grab it on my own. I wouldn’t give up what I’d worked so hard to achieve. I wouldn’t let anyone take it from me. Jack, of all people, had to be able to relate. He worked just as hard as I did to get the things he wanted. Both of us had been let down by the few people in the world you’re supposed to trust implicitly. All the unfulfilled promises from my dad ran through my mind, but the constant disappointment I’d felt growing up paled in comparison to both of Jack’s parents choosing to leave him.

“I do get that. What the hell are you talking about?” He tugged at his hair.

“If I stopped taking pictures and stopped working, I’d be lost. I wouldn’t know who I was without it,” I admitted, the very thought causing my insides to feel pitted and empty.

“How do you think I’m going to feel when my baseball career is over?” He sat up straight and faced me.

“But you said once that you’d give it up. For me! How could you say that?” I couldn’t imagine giving up that part of myself for anyone. Not even Jack.

“Because, goddammit, it’s the truth! I’m going to be a fucking mess without this sport. I don’t know who I am without baseball, and it’s going to take me some time to figure it all out when that day comes. But I’ll be able to do it as long as I have you.”

I shook my head, disbelief running amuck through me. “Listen to me,” he demanded. “One day baseball will end. It’s a fact. And that day is going to be one of the worst days of my life. But if I have to go through the end of my career without you?” He huffed. “Then you might as well just put me out to pasture like one of those old fucking cows. Because there is no me without you. Jack Carter does not exist as a full person without Cassie Andrews.”

My chest heaved as I fought back the hot tears that threatened to pour from my eyes as he continued. “Without you, I’d be a shell of a man. A hollowed-out, empty, lifeless carcass. And I know that because I’ve been there. I lived through it. I lived through losing you due to my own stupidity, and I can never explain to you what that felt like.”

I allowed my tears to fall, but I couldn’t say anything yet.

“Cass, I don’t want you to stop working. I don’t want you to give up anything for me. But I need you to know that I’ve learned from losing you. I know how bad it feels to not have you in my life, and I never want to experience that again.”

I sucked in a breath. “I can’t imagine my life without you, Jack,” I wholeheartedly admitted. “Even when we were apart, I always hoped that we’d find our way back to each other. But I don’t like feeling pressured to choose between you or my job. It’s not fair, and it’s a decision I don’t want to have to make.”

“Because I won’t win?” he asked, his voice soft but firm.

“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “But I can’t believe we’re fighting already.”

“We’re not fighting. We’re just figuring things out.”

“No. I’m pretty sure we’re fighting.”

I Won’t Let Anything Happen to Her

Jack

I knew what Kitten meant last night, even if she didn’t. She felt like choosing between her job or her heart was like being asked to literally choose me over herself. I wanted to blame her, but I couldn’t. She didn’t know what it was like. Not really. To live without the one person you knew you were meant for. I’d experienced the pain of being forced to live without her while I had achieved my biggest dream.

It wasn’t enough.

Having baseball but no Cassie didn’t make me happy. I was pretty sure it was the same for her with photography and no me; she simply hadn’t realized it yet. She hadn’t really been forced to. At least not from the perspective I had been. I fucked up. I lost her. It’s different when you’re the one who made the mistakes.

I tried not to wake Cassie as I dialed the office where Matteo worked. I purposely woke up before her alarm was set to go off to handle this.

“Good morning, Mr. Lombardi. It’s Jack Carter.”

“Good morning, Mr. Carter. Is everything working out with Matteo?” His accent echoed through the phone.

“That’s what I’m calling about actually.” I attempted to explain before he interjected.

“If Matteo’s not working out, we have plenty of other drivers.”

I released an irritated breath. “No, Mr. Lombardi, Matteo’s fine. I wanted to see about booking him longer on the days I have home games.”

“Ah, how much longer?”

“I need him to stay at the field from the time he drops Cassie off until we leave.” I didn’t want to tell this guy my reasons for needing Matteo to stay. I wanted to keep that business as private as possible. “So, that’s probably an extra four or five hours. Is that possible?”

“How many days a week do you have home games?”

“We have about thirteen home games a month, with usually six or seven of them in a row.”

I heard scribbling and the sound of papers being shuffled on the other end of the line. “That shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Are you sure? Because if it is, I’ll need to look into other options.” I needed a straight answer with no bullshit. If this guy wouldn’t give me Matteo’s time, I’d take Matteo from him and hire him exclusively. Or find someone else to do the job.

“It’s fine. Just make sure you give Matteo a copy of your schedule so we can write him off in the books.”

“Great. Can you have Matteo call me when he checks in?”

“Not a problem, sir.”

“Thanks.” I clicked the phone off before breathing out a sigh of relief. I’d half expected more of a battle for Matteo’s time. I appreciated it didn’t come to that. Now I needed to talk to Matteo. I needed someone who wanted to watch out for her, and he needed to be able to put Cassie’s safety above his own. Maybe he wouldn’t like the idea of his pretty little model face being put at risk. I guess I’d find out.

“Hey, you’re up early.” I turned around to see Cassie standing in the doorway, watching me. She looked so beautiful standing there that I couldn’t resist her. I eagerly walked toward her, wrapping her up in my arms, and squeezed. I kissed her neck, breathing in the smell of her skin.

“I’m so sorry about last night.” She tilted her head up to look at me. “I think I just get really defensive when it comes to my job.”

I looked into her green eyes, pushing the hair back from her face and tucking it behind her ear. “I know. It’s OK. I get it.”

“I hate fighting with you.” Her lips jutted out in a pout, and I smiled.

“I told you we weren’t fighting. We’re just figuring things out, OK?” I leaned down, planting a kiss on her cheek. “So listen, I talked to Matteo’s boss this morning, and he’s fine with him staying for the games. I’m going to meet with Matteo later today to make sure he can handle it.”

She released a breath. “Handle it how?”

“I just want to make sure he’s up for it. I’m not going to ask him to do this for us if he isn’t comfortable doing it. He does have a choice in the matter.”

“Well, how nice for him,” she said, her voice laced with bitterness.

I dropped my hands. “Am I doing something wrong, Cass? I’m just trying to make sure you’re safe and protected when I’m not around. Is that not OK with you?”

This girl is driving me fucking crazy.

“No.” She paused before looking at the floor. “God, I’m sorry, Jack. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” Her eyes closed as she dropped her face into her hands. “I’m not used to anyone looking out for me the way you do. It’s a bit of an adjustment for me is all. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Please don’t fight me on this. I won’t be able to concentrate on the field if I think people are harassing you or being mean or hurting you.”

“I know.” She nodded her head in agreement before swallowing. “I’ll try to be less crazy. I love you.”

“You’re not crazy.” I smiled. “And I love you too.” I kissed her lips before she pulled away.

“I need to get ready for work.” Her face softened.

“Go then. Stop wasting time fake fighting with me.” I smacked her ass, and she yelped.

“Jack!”

Half tempted to chase her ass right into the bathroom, the sound of my phone ringing distracted me. “Hey, Matteo,” I said into the phone, after seeing his name and number appear on my screen.

“Good morning, Jack. Mr. Lombardi said you wanted to talk to me?”

“Yeah. Is there any way we could meet a little bit later to go over some stuff? I’ll pay you for your time, of course.”

“Hold on one sec.” The phone sounded like it got tossed onto a desk. “I have a couple clients this morning, but I’m free around eleven. Is that too late?”