The Perfect Game (The Perfect Game #1)

The Perfect Game (The Perfect Game #1) Page 39

“You’re right. You’re totally right. I’m sorry, Cassie, I really just don’t get it.”

“Yeah, tell me about it.” I sighed. The sadness still got to me sometimes.

“So tell me, how’s Joey from Bahhston?”

“He’s good.” I laughed at her attempt at his accent.

“Still making him beg?”

My lack of an answer was all the answer she needed. “Cassie, you can’t stay closed off forever. You need to open up your heart again.”

“I know, it’s just…I’m scarred.”

“We’re all scarred. That’s how we know we’ve lived a life worth fighting for. Love is a battlefield! Thank you, Pat Benatar.” She belted out an off-key rendition of the chorus that made me giggle before continuing. “Our scars don’t point us in the direction we’re headed, Cass, they simply remind us of where we’ve been.”

I remained silent, taking in the very truth of her words. “Cass?”

“I’m here.”

“I think it’s time to let him go,” she suggested, her voice tinged with pain.

My breath whooshed in and out of the phone before she spoke again. “I’m just saying that sometimes letting go is the only way to find out who you’re meant to hold on to.”

“Oh, I like that. Did you make it up?”

“I think I read it online somewhere before.” She laughed. “But let’s pretend it came from this gorgeous head of mine.”

I rested my camera on top of my messy desk and watched as Joey waltzed into the building, his business attire looking more than good on him. He flashed a smile in my direction before walking into the kitchen. I followed him, pretending I needed to fill my already half-filled coffee mug.

“Are you ever going to go out with me?” he asked, his confidence reminding me of Jack.

“Are you ever going to stop asking?”

“Not until you agree.” He stirred his coffee before taking a sip.

“Fine. This is me…agreeing,” I responded, an eerie, all-too-familiar feeling creeping over me.

“It only took me six months. I think that’s a new record.” He leaned in and planted a peck on my cheek. “We’ll leave at six. No overtime for you tonight.”

“Tonight?” I repeated, horrified.

“Tonight. No backing out.”

“I’ll make it work.” I pressed my lips together to stop them from smiling.

“So where are you taking me?” I leaned my head back in the passenger seat of Joey’s car and watched as the city whizzed by us in a blur.

“It’s a surprise.” Joey glanced over at me and smiled.

I really hated surprises. But this guy didn’t know that. He didn’t know anything about me.

He turned onto Grand Central Parkway and I almost started hyperventilating. “Where are we going? Are we going to the game?” I choked out, noticing the stadium on the horizon.

“I overheard you one day talking about baseball and how you went to college with one of the guys on the Diamondbacks. So I got us tickets. Maybe you can see your friend.”

“Oh God. Joey, that’s really sweet and thoughtful and romantic, but I…can’t go to this game with you.”

“Of course you can. Don’t be silly. We don’t have to stay for the whole thing. Have you even seen a game yet? Or been to either stadium?”

I shook my head, unable to come up with a reasonable explanation to stop this train wreck from happening.

“It will be fun. New Yorkers are pretty cool fans. I mean, as long as they aren’t playing the Sox. But you have to experience it.” Joey sounded so excited as he tried to sell me on it while he parked the car.

I’ve already experienced pretty cool fans. Back in college. You have no idea, buddy.

“Promise me that if I want to leave, we will. No questions asked. Okay?”

He stared at me as if I’d asked something completely foreign of him. “Joey, you have to promise me or I’m not stepping one foot out of this car.”

“Fine, I promise.”

“Promise what?” I tested.

“I promise that if you want to leave, we will. Even though you won’t want to leave at all because these seats are choice. You can probably high-five your friend if you want to.”

My legs shook as Joey took my hand, leading me toward the blue and orange gate. Security checked my bag before ushering me through in a slightly less friendly way than I was used to. New Yorkers are a little more brash.

We walked down the stairs toward the field. I could tell by Joey’s pace that we weren’t stopping anytime soon. My stomach knotted up while my heart struggled to remain consistently beating. I refused to look around for Jack, terrified at how my body would react.

When he stopped at the very front row, he turned around and threw out his arms. “Well? What do you think? Pretty great, right?” he asked, clearly proud of his seat-purchasing ability.

“Uh-huh. They’re really close to the field,” I said between laboring breaths, my gaze desperately pinned to his face.

“Are you okay?” He put his hand on my shoulder and I winced.

“I need to get a drink.”

“I’ll get it for you,” he offered, his face creased with worry.

“No, that’s okay. I need to use the restroom too. I’ll be right back.” I tried to force a smile, but my lips felt broken as I rushed back up the stairs and out of view.

I sprinted to the closest bathroom, locking the stall door behind me as my upper body crumpled. With my head between my knees, I began rocking back and forth.

Stop it. You’re acting like an idiot. Jack won’t see you. He never looks up in the stands. He doesn’t even like you anymore, so stop freaking out. It’s time you moved on with your life and got over Jack Carter once and for all. You have got to stop thinking about him because he is clearly not thinking about you.

I nodded as my own thoughts struck a chord within me. I could do this. I could be strong. I could watch Jack play baseball and not want to die from it.

I think.

A few more calming breaths and I unlocked the latch, walking out to face my reflection in the mirror. I wiped at the smears of mascara under my eyes and washed my hands under the running cold water.

I stopped at a concession stand to buy a bottle of water before heading back down to our dugout level seats. Joey smiled as he caught sight of me, his bright white teeth a welcome sign to anyone.

“You okay?” He stood up and took my elbow in concern before sitting down again as I plopped into my seat.

“Much better, thanks,” I answered, taking a drink of water.

“So which one’s your friend from school? Can you tell?”

If seeing Jack didn’t kill me tonight, this guy’s questions were sure going to. I couldn’t really get mad at Joey, he didn’t know any better. It’s not like I’d told him Jack was my ex-boyfriend whom I’d given my entire heart to and he’d given it back to me in pieces. Want a sliver?

I squinted my eyes and pretended to look around the field for Jack. “I can’t tell, sorry. They all look alike in their uniforms.” I bit my bottom lip.

“Do you know if he starts? Or what position he plays?”

“I have no idea, honestly.”

“Well, what did he play in college?” He kept pushing questions at me and I wanted to scream.

“He was a pitcher,” I replied, forcing back the burning in my chest with another gulp of water.

“Ahhhh, I see.” Joey nodded. “Then he might not even play tonight. I’m sorry if he doesn’t.”

“That’s okay. I wasn’t planning on watching him anyway. You forced me here, remember?” I attempted to smile and he tossed an arm around my shoulder.

“You haven’t even told me your friend’s name. What is it?”

Jesus. This guy was relentless.

“Jack Carter.” I almost stumbled on his name. I hadn’t said it out loud to anyone in almost six months, not counting Dean or Melissa.

“You know Jack Carter?” His jaw dropped before he continued. “He’s an incredible player! And he’s starting tonight.”

“Really? He’s starting?” I braced myself.

“Yeah! Pretty cool, huh?” He leaned his head back before tossing some peanuts in his mouth.

By the time the game started, my body was filled with so much anxiety that I kept shifting in my seat. I grinned as Jack walked onto the field, pleased to see that he still sported the number twenty-three on the back of his jersey.

“That’s your boy, right?” Joey said, pointing at Jack as he made his way to the mound for pre-game warm-ups.

Was.

“That’s him.” My eyes followed the lines of Jack’s new uniform, noting the muscle he’d gained in his legs and chest. He took my breath away.

Jack stood on the mound, every motion and move he made careening through me with familiarity. The fluid movements of his body—the way it bent, curved, kicked, and then released the ball—destroyed me emotionally.

Tears started to burn my eyes. “I can’t be here. I have to go.” I bolted from my seat, shooting up the cement stairs.

“Cassie! Cassie, wait!” Horrified at the volume at which Joey shouted my name, I stopped dead in my tracks and turned slowly to face him. Then I made the mistake of glancing at the field.

Jack’s eyes were focused on me, the look on his face unlike any expression I’d ever seen on him before. My hand flew to my mouth as Joey reached me, placing his arm protectively around me. I noticed Jack’s jaw working as he dropped his head and refocused his attention toward the batter’s box.

“What’s going on, Cassie?” Joey asked, his arm still circled around my waist.

“Jack and I used to date.” I pursed my lips together and squeezed my eyes shut.

“Was it serious?” His voice sounded confused but curious.

“It was.” I took a quick breath and opened my eyes, and looked squarely into his. “But it didn’t end well. I’m sorry, Joey, I should have told you.”

“You’re not obligated to tell me anything you’re not comfortable with. You basically told me earlier that you didn’t want to come, but I didn’t listen.”

“I don’t know what to say.” I tilted my head to one side and he rubbed my neck.

“Look, Cassie, I like you. I’d still like to take you out. But I promise, no more baseball games.” He threw up his hands in a surrender pose.

I snickered. “That sounds nice. But right now I really want to go home. Would you mind dropping me off?”

“Of course not. Come on.” Joey reached for my hand, interlocking his fingers with mine as he guided me away from the stadium and Jack. I climbed the stairs behind him grimly, the look I’d seen on Jack’s face running circles in my already fragile mind.

TWENTY-THREE

After Joey dropped me off, I ran upstairs and slammed my apartment door, tossing my body like a rag doll onto the gently-used couch I’d purchased as soon as I arrived in New York. I cried into the velvet-like cushion, my tears soaking in as I reached for my cell phone.