The Game Changer: A Novel (11 page)

I slipped into a pair of boy shorts and a tank top before literally jumping onto the bed. When I snuggled my head against the crook of his shoulder and wrapped my arm around him, he sighed with contentment and pulled a blanket over us.

“So, what’s our subject change?” he asked.

“Your new baseball team.” I smiled against his shirt.

“What about it?” His chest rose and fell against my cheek.

“Tell me about it. How does it work in the big leagues? What do you have to do?”

“I have to report to the field on Monday morning. I need to be there by eight so I can fill out some paperwork. And I’ll spend the day there until the game.”

“But the game’s at night, right?”

“Uh-huh.”

“You’ll be there all day long?”

“Yeah, well, I need to get checked in, get my locker, make sure my uniform fits, meet the manager, work out, take infield, have batting practice, eat lunch, attend meetings—” He stopped abruptly before continuing, “and miss my Kitten.”

I laughed before sitting up to look at him. As much as I loved lying against his chiseled body, I enjoyed looking into those chocolate-brown eyes when we talked. Call me crazy.

“Should I come to the field after I get off work? Are you pitching? Do you want me there if you’re not pitching?” Working in the office Monday through Friday all but assured that I’d miss plenty of Jack’s games. While a part of me hated knowing how many I’d miss, other parts of me reveled in the dreams and goals I had for myself. I’d moved to New York to advance my career, not follow
Jack around the country. Still, the idea of him traveling and playing in stadiums without me filled me with sadness.

I feel like a walking contradiction.

His eyebrows pulled together. “I have no idea if I’m pitching or not. But I want you there no matter what.” He reached for my hand, his thumb caressing my knuckles. “I always want you there, Kitten.”

My heart skipped with his touch, his words. “Then I’ll be there.” I smiled softly as he raised my hand to his lips. The truth surged through me in that moment. There was a rush that happened whenever I watched Jack play. Nothing compared to sitting in a stadium, no matter how big or small, and seeing Jack on top of that mound of dirt. It was magic.

“I’ll have a ticket for you at Will Call and you’ll get an ID card so you can go underground after the game.”

“An ID card?”

“It’s mostly for the away games. That way security knows you’re a player’s wife—” He stumbled before quickly recanting, “or girlfriend. So they know you’re with the team.”

All other feelings escaped in a rush as jealousy settled into my stomach. I wondered if Chrystle possessed one of the ID cards in question. As if reading my mind, Jack added, “She never had one.”

I exhaled and inhaled quickly. “I know it’s stupid to think about stuff like that, but I can’t help it.”

Jack quickly shook his head. “It’s not stupid. Those thoughts are in your head because I put them there.” He leaned his mouth next to my ear, his breath warm and enticing. “I won’t mess us up again. I promise.” He nibbled on my earlobe before he pulled away.

I closed my eyes, drinking in his vow. Part of me cringed, acknowledging the vulnerability that coursed within me. I needed to be strong, but the reality was that Jack would be away a lot and I
wouldn’t be able to go with him. As much as I wanted to believe that his mistake with Chrystle was a one-time major screwup, I’d be lying to myself if I said I wasn’t fearful.

I was.

And I wasn’t sure I’d ever not be.

“Do you believe me?” he asked, his brow furrowed with worry.

I fought back the tears that formed in my eyes. “I want to.” What I wanted to do was bottle my anxiety up and put it on a shelf where it could only come out in small doses, but I didn’t know how. Right now it lived on the outside of my skin, like an extra layer I couldn’t shed no matter what. My emotions had taken full control over every other part of me. I’d become victim to my own insecurities.

“I’ll show you.” His forehead pressed against mine as he continued. “I’ll never lose you again.”

“What if I want to be lost?” I teased with a half-serious tone and watched as he pulled his head from mine.

“I won’t let you.”

“You won’t let me?” I mocked, secretly loving the way he wanted me.

Jesus, Cassie, you’re a fucking nutcase right now. Pick an emotion. Pretend like you’re in charge here.

“No. I won’t let you. End of discussion.” His mouth remained stoic.

“That wasn’t really what one would consider a
discussion
.”

“Because there’s nothing to discuss. I’m not leaving you ever again. And you’re not leaving me. No matter how pissed off I make you, or how frustrated. I fucking love you, and I’m not going anywhere.”

I attempted to fight back the smile that formed. “And I love you. But really, if you ever cheat on me again, I’ll cut your nuts off and hang them from the Empire State Building.”

Jack

A
nd now I needed the subject change. I’d relived my mistake with Chrystle every moment since I made it, and talking about cheating with Cassie fucking wrecked me inside. “You know, there isn’t much more of the story to tell if you want to quit interrupting and let me finish.” I cracked a smile.

She crinkled her nose in response to my words, a slight smile spreading across her cheeks. I waited for what I was certain would be a smartass remark when she simply said, “OK. Finish.”

Wrong again, buddy.

I breathed out a long, steady sigh before picking up where I left off.

I leaned against the couch in my newly rented Arizona apartment. Spring training for pitchers and catchers was in full swing, and I was still a married man.

“We should really start on divorce proceedings, Jack.” Marc’s uneasy voice buzzed from the phone at my ear.

“Is that your professional opinion?”

“We’re only dragging this out further. She’s never going to sign something that makes her look as bad as the annulment does. As it is, there’s a thirty-day waiting period after we’ve filed the divorce paperwork.”

My head pounded as my rage exploded. “Thirty days? Fuck!”

“I know. Let’s just get this over with for you, OK? Let me withdraw the annulment and start the divorce paperwork. Although I have to warn you, she can refuse to sign the divorce papers too.”

“Jesus Christ, Marc. Just give her whatever the hell she wants and get me out of this.” I jammed my finger into the End button before pitching the phone full speed against the wall of my apartment. Pieces of plastic flew into the air, leaving a hole in the wall behind it.

Shit.

The next day I opened my e-mail inbox to see a message from Chrystle’s best friend, Vanessa.

Jack,

We need to talk. I can help you. Call me as soon as you get this.

Thanks,

Vanessa

I stared at the e-mail with her phone number for a good half hour before remembering I’d shattered my phone. Before practice, I picked up a new one and almost knocked the salesman out when he suggested I change my number to a local one. I’d never change my phone number to a number Cassie didn’t have, and the mere suggestion almost cost that guy his pretty little face.

“Jack?” Vanessa said when she answered my call.

“What do you want?” I asked abruptly. This girl was Chrystle’s best friend. She knew everything Chrystle lied about and did nothing to stop it.

“I can’t let her keep doing this to you, Jack.” Her voice broke, but I remained unconvinced and questioned anyone who could stay best friends with a person like Chrystle. “I didn’t know she faked her
pregnancy,” she whispered before continuing. “I mean, at first I didn’t know.”

“Did you know at the wedding?” I asked through gritted teeth.

“No. She was still lying to everyone then.”

I didn’t care. “Get to the point.”

“After seeing you at the bar and hearing the things she said to you, I tried to talk to some sense into her. But she won’t listen. She got even crazier after that night. Like more determined or something…” Her voice trailed off.

Annoyed, I huffed into the phone. “Vanessa, I don’t have time for this. Either get to the point or I’m hanging up.”

“I’m trying to say that I’ll testify on your behalf. I’ll talk to your lawyer, or judge or whomever. I’ll tell them that everything you wrote in those annulment papers is true. And I’ll tell them everything they need to know that not even you know, Jack.”

My chest heaved as disbelief and elation coursed through me. The air around me thickened as I struggled for a response. “Why would you do that?”

“Because you don’t deserve what she’s doing to you. It’s wrong, and I don’t want to be a part of it anymore.”

I wanted to believe her. “If you’re serious,” I paused, still unsure of truth versus lies when it came to those girls, “I’d like to pass your phone number along to my lawyer and have him call you. Is that OK?”

“Yes, of course. I’m really sorry, Jack. I hope this helps.”

“Thanks, Vanessa.”

Cassie swiveled her head back and forth in disbelief. “This story. Seriously. Crazier and crazier.”

“I know, but thank fucking God Vanessa e-mailed me when she did. Marc was just about to file the divorce papers when I called him.”

“Of course. Just in the nick of time, like a well-played movie.” She raised her eyebrows.

“A well-played Lifetime movie,” I added with a smirk.

“So, Vanessa followed through? She wasn’t lying?”

I knew Cassie’s mind wandered to the same places mine had originally. Was this another trick, a lie, another baited hook I was sinking my teeth into? “Not only Vanessa, but she got their friend Tressa to make a statement corroborating my claims on the annulment. Chrystle signed the papers that week.”

“Wow. Wow.” Her hand covered her now gaping mouth. “Just like that? That’s all it took to get her to sign?”

I raised a hand in the air. “Just like that.”

“Unbelievable.”

With her head back on my chest, I wound my fingers in and out of her hair. “Yep. That was spring training, then the season started, and here we are.”

She lifted her head back up from my chest, a wicked grin covering her face. “Uh-uh. I want to hear about you seeing me at the field with Joey the other night.”

“The other night? That was weeks ago,” I complained.

“It sometimes feels like the other night.”

“You’re a cruel girl, Cassie Andrews. Anyone ever tell you that?”

“Maybe once or twice.” She leaned in, her soft lips pressed against mine.

“That’s the perfect way to get me to stop telling you stories.” I deepened the kiss, my tongue pushing its way into her mouth.

“Tell me first; kiss me after.” She leaned away from my face, and I thought briefly about teaching her a lesson. One that included the
fact that I’d kiss her whenever I damn well pleased. But I was close to finishing my story and I wanted to move on.