The Game Changer (The Perfect Game #2)

The Game Changer (The Perfect Game #2) Page 27

“They’re going to want me to sign stuff. Do you mind or do you want me to blow them off?” I’d do whatever the hell she wanted me to.

“Of course you should sign stuff.” She smiled.

I gripped her hand, leading her toward the door. I pushed it open, holding it for her to walk through before following behind. The sound of my name filled the air around us as people crowded to get close, shoving their camera phones toward us. Instinctively, I wanted to protect Cassie from the rushing bodies, but I ended up only tightening my grip on her.

“Ow, Jack.” She winced, pulling her hand from mine and shaking it.

“Shit. Sorry, Kitten.”

“It’s OK.” She smiled.

“Jack, how about a picture?” A woman shouted above everyone else. I’d have to have been blind to not notice her good looks.

“Sure,” I said, remembering Cassie’s words.

Reluctantly I posed, keeping my hands to myself, but this chick draped herself all over me like a cheap fucking suit. Disgusted, I removed her hands from my body. “No more pictures, but I’ll sign whatever you want,” I announced to the group, frowning at the one who’d just ruined pictures for the rest of them. Forcing a big smile on my face, I signed papers, taxi receipts, and a couple of baseballs.

“Cassie, Cassie honey. Look this way.” My attention turned to the long-haired, greasy-looking guy with a professional camera taking pictures of Kitten while she waited for me to finish. I watched as she reacted to the sound of her name, which clearly caught her off guard, and she searched the crowd for the one calling out to her.

“Leave her alone,” I shouted in his direction, and he glared at me. He fucking glared at me, aimed the camera back toward Cass, and clicked the button. I imagined jumping over everyone and breaking that camera across the side of his fucking skull.

“You’re so pretty when you smile, Cassie. Won’t you smile for the camera? Who was with you at the game last night? Cassie? Did you and Jack make up? Why were you mad at him?” The dirtbag was relentless.

“I said leave her alone,” I threatened, my patience fading.

Cassie suddenly appeared at my side, whispering in my ear, “That guy’s creeping me out.”

“We’ll go,” I whispered back. “I have to go. Sorry.” I made my way through the crowd, which had grown in number since I started. I pushed lightly through the people, signing a few scraps of paper on the way, never letting go of Cassie’s hand.

We walked down the sidewalk and I glanced back, noticing the guy still taking shots of us, following our every move. “That guy’s following us. He must be paparazzi.”

“When he called out my name,” she paused, “that freaked me out. And all those questions. It’s weird when people know about your life like that.”

“I know. Come on, let’s get a cab.” I stopped walking and the guy did too.

That’s right, asshole. Keep your distance.

“I got this.” She winked at me before stepping out onto the edge of the busy street.

She looked sexy as hell hailing down a cab, her hip jutted out as she waved her arm. The cab pulled up like a speeding train before slamming on the brakes and we hopped in.

“Is he following us?” Cassie asked softly.

I glanced back. “Nope. I think he knows I’ll deck him,” I said with a laugh, and she kissed my cheek.

When the cabbie stopped in front of a gold-trimmed apartment building with a uniformed guy standing outside the revolving door, I smiled, my comfort level growing already.

This is what I’m talking about.

I helped Cass out of the cab, and we walked toward the door.

“Can I help you?” the doorman asked.

Good. He asks what you’re doing here before you go in. I like that.

“We have an appointment with Ruth.”

“Have a good day,” he nodded, allowing us to enter.

A middle-aged woman greeted us the moment we walked in. Her voice was so raspy it sounded as if she smoked twenty packs a day. “I’m Ruth. You must be Jack and Cassie. It’s nice to meet you. We happen to have a vacant two-bedroom apartment on the twenty-third floor that I want to show you. Are you ready?”

I turned to Cassie. “Twenty-third floor? It’s my number, babe. That’s a sign.”

Baseball players are nothing if not superstitious.

Cassie smiled, following Ruth into the elevator that flew us to the twenty-third floor in no time. Ruth led us down the hall, unlocked the door, and waved us in. “I’ll just be over here, so you kids take your time looking around.”

Holy shit.

This place was gorgeous. I knew Kitten was already sold by the look on her face. “Can we afford this?” she whispered.

“We can. Easily. It’s not as much as you think.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

I could see why. Cassie started on about granite countertops and stainless-steel appliances, and squealed when she walked into the master bathroom. I didn’t know half the shit she was talking about, but the smile on her face was priceless. I’d take out a fucking loan to live here if I had to.

“I think we can fit ten apartments the size of yours in here,” I teased, before walking onto the balcony. The city rushed by down below, and the buildings provided the perfect landscape. I bet Kitten would love to photograph things from up here.

“A balcony? Heaven. I’m in heaven.” Her face crinkled with delight.

“I wanna do bad things to you on this balcony, Kitten.”

“Shocking,” she said as she rolled her eyes.

“So you like it?” I asked, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her to me. Before she could answer, I pressed my lips against hers, feeling her body go limp in my arms. I pulled away from her slowly, letting the kiss linger before finishing it with a peck against her cheek.

“It’s seriously gorgeous, Jack. I think I could live here forever.”

“Even if it’s a little further from Central Park than you wanted?” I asked just to be sure, already knowing what her answer would be.

“It’s perfect. And the park isn’t that far away.”

“I’m sold then.”

“You didn’t even see the master bedroom. Or the guest room. Did you even look around?” She ran her fingers through my hair.

“I don’t need to. If you like it, that’s all that matters.” I stepped inside and shouted toward the open front door. “Ruth.” She peered around the door frame and smiled. “We’ll take it. What do we have to do?”

Getting Caught

Cassie

Jack talked Ruth into letting us move in as soon as possible, saying he wanted to know I’d be safe while he was on the road for eleven days. The move kept my brain occupied, so instead of focusing on the fact that Jack would be gone for so long, I thought about packing instead. It stopped me from my small freak-outs about Jack and cheating. I didn’t want to worry about him doing that, but sometimes you can’t help the way you feel.

We spent the following week packing up our small apartment, and I stayed away from the field when Jack wasn’t pitching to have more time to get everything in order. I realized that I didn’t like staying home when Jack’s team played a home game. I thought I’d feel differently because Jack wasn’t pitching, but I didn’t. I wanted to be where he was, whether he was playing or not.

But being away from the field also meant that there were no pictures of me online and that small reprieve brought a sense of normalcy back into my life I’d almost forgotten. It’s amazing how quickly we adapt to things in our lives when we believe we don’t have a choice in the matter.

I closed the top of a box, taping it shut as Jack walked through the front door. I smiled, jumping to my feet to greet him. I wrapped my arms around his neck and nuzzled against his warm skin. “Hi, babe. How was the game?”

“I don’t like it when you’re not there,” he admitted, and a part of me melted with his words.

“Me either.” I closed my eyes, breathing in the smell of him.

“And we lost.” His tone turned grumpy and annoyed.

“I’m sorry.”

He leaned down, giving me a quick peck on the mouth before walking into the kitchen. “I’m hungry, Kitten, and everything’s packed.” He opened and closed our cupboards.

“There’s pasta in the fridge that I made for dinner. Just needs to be heated up.”

He turned toward the refrigerator and opened the door. “Oh, here,” he said, reaching into his back pocket. He pulled out a folded-up piece of paper and tossed it at me.

“What is it?”

“It’s the detailed travel itinerary for the next few games.”

“Oh.” I unfolded it. “Is this my copy or do I need to write this all down somewhere?”

“That’s all yours. I have mine in my locker.”

“Thanks.” I scanned the paper looking for his flight time. I breathed out with relief when it read six p.m. “I’m so happy that your flight isn’t until six.”

“I know. It’s only about two and half hours to Miami from here so we lucked out.” He flashed a quick dimpled grin before the microwave beeped, signaling his food was ready.

I nodded and scanned the bare living room. “I didn’t think it could look any smaller in here, but it actually does. Which really makes no sense.”

“Our new place is going to feel like a palace to you.”

“I may never leave our bathroom,” I teased and he raised an eyebrow. “You don’t even know what I’m talking about because you didn’t even look at it. Just wait until you see it!”

I started getting really excited. Our new apartment looked amazing, and I couldn’t wait to begin living there. “Matteo knows we’re moving, right? You told him?”

He nodded before swallowing a mouthful of food. “I told him. He knows exactly where it is.”

I started going through the checklist in my head. Utilities changed over and turned on, old apartment cleaned, movers booked, house packed, and address updated online and with the post office. “Kitten?” Jack’s voice broke through my overly organized brain.

“Hmm?”

“Did you hear a word I said?”

I shook my head. “Sorry. What’d you say?”

“I asked if you thought about coming to any of the away games.”

“I was going to ask you if I could come to the Chicago series.” I plopped down on the couch.

“Ask me? Kitten, you can come to every fucking game if you want. You don’t have to ask me.”

“Well, I’ve never been to Chicago.” I smiled, picturing Cloud Gate, the famous stainless-steel bean-shaped sculpture that people always talked about. I wanted to photograph that bean.

The couch dipped as Jack sat next to me. “Alright, but listen. Chicago is a really big city that sometimes isn’t safe. Since you’ll be alone, I don’t think you should take the El around town. Just take cabs.”