The Perfect Game (7 page)

“You thought I’d do the same thing to you.” His eyes widened as understanding settled in.

“I assumed you wanted to.” 

“Of course I want to sleep with you,” he admitted without shame and I felt my inner thighs tingle. “But I’m not sold on the forgetting about you part.”

I eyed him warily, my heart racing beneath my shirt. “You probably say that to all the girls.”

“I don’t have to say that to all the girls.”

I sat in silence, stunned by his honesty.

“What are you thinking about?” He reached over and tapped my hand with one finger, bringing me out of my thoughts.

“Honestly?” 

“Honestly.”

“That I don’t trust myself with you.”

He folded his arms across his chest. “And why’s that?”

“Because I can’t tell whether or not you mean the things you say.” 

He uncrossed his arms and leaned into the table again. “What does your heart tell you?”

“Who cares? My heart’s dumb! It believes anything,” I said, clutching at my chest above my left breast.

He laughed, his eyes glued to my hand. “Fine. What does your head tell you then?”

“My head questions everything and believes nothing.”

“So your head wants proof and your heart wants reassurance?” A small line appeared between Jack’s eyebrows.

“Pretty much.”

“I think you just made life a thousand times more difficult.” He grabbed his head with both hands and squeezed.

“That’s why I came up with my boy test…to protect myself.”

“Protect yourself from what?” he asked, reaching for another quarter.

“Guys like you.”

Our conversation was interrupted by the sound of plates being set on the table. “Here you go, two Titan specials with fries. You two need anything else?”

“I’m good. Kitten?”

I rolled my eyes so hard it hurt. “Can I get a side of ranch dressing, please? Thanks.” 

My eyes widened at the sight of my burger. It looked like it could feed the entire football team. And the mound of french fries that sat next to it had to consist of twenty potatoes.

“Please tell me you can’t actually finish this?” I looked at Jack, my face shocked.

He laughed. “I can. And you better clean your whole plate.”

“Clean this?” I pointed to the plate with an incredulous look.

He laughed again before lifting the burger to his face and taking a mammoth-sized bite. Sarah dropped off the dressing and I dipped the hot fries in, biting carefully. “Holy crap, these are amazing.” 

“Told you,” he managed to say, his mouth stuffed with food. 

I hated how cute he was. Even with a mouth full of food, he was still irritatingly adorable.

“So tell me about your boy test.” He picked up his napkin to swipe at a smear of ketchup on his chin.

“Forget I said anything about it.” I waved him off with my hands.

“Come on, Cass. I want to know.” He eyed me curiously.

“Fine,” I relented. “But you can’t make fun of me.”

Both dimples appeared on his cheeks and my heart fluttered quickly. “I won’t. Promise.” 

I didn’t believe that smile, but I gave in anyway. With a deep breath I rattled off, “They’re more like rules. Rule number one: Don’t lie. Two: Don’t cheat. Three: Don’t make promises you can’t keep. And four: Don’t say things you don’t mean.”

“That’s it?” he asked in disbelief.

“They may not mean much to you, but they mean everything to me.” I sighed, slightly embarrassed that I’d shared my list with him.

“I don’t mean any offense, Kitten. It’s just…well, those seem like pretty normal expectations to me.”

“You’d think so,” I agreed, taking a bite of my monstrosity they called a cheeseburger.

“But?” 

“But most guys can’t seem to do them. They lie. They cheat. And most people in general can’t keep their promises, or stop themselves from saying things they don’t really mean.”

“What about you?” 

My forehead creased. “What about me?”

“Can you follow your own rules?” he asked, his tone serious.

“I try to live my life following those rules. Otherwise you hurt people.”

He took a quick, short breath. “So did people lie to you a lot or something? Some guy break your heart in high school?” 

“It’s more like my dad can’t seem to follow through on anything he says. He always tells me a lot of things, but he never actually does them.” I hesitated.

“Like what?” Jack leaned forward, intrigue written all over his face.

“I don’t know, like everything. He promised he’d be at my graduation, and then he didn’t show. He says he won’t be late to things, but he always is. Or how he’ll buy me something, but then he doesn’t. He makes promises he can’t keep. All. The. Time. But it’s not just to me, you know? He tells other people things and they believe him. And when he doesn’t come through, I’m usually the one left picking up the pieces since he’s nowhere to be found.” 

I paused, suddenly insecure with my admission. “Is that stupid?” 

“No. Your dad sounds like an ass.” He frowned, his face twisted with disgust.

I looked into his eyes and then down at his mouth before continuing. “Have you ever noticed how pretty and beautiful words can be? How easy it is to say the things you think someone wants to hear. How you can affect a person’s entire day with just a few measly sentences?”

My slight smile dropped. “But when you don’t follow them up with any action, they’re completely pointless. They’re just sounds and syllables. But they mean absolutely nothing.” My gaze glossed over as my mind wandered.

He reached across the table for my hands, but pulled away quickly before he touched them. I watched as he grabbed two loose quarters from the pile and scooted them over to my side of the table. “Almost forgot.” He smiled before placing his hands on top of mine.

I tried not to smile, but failed. Heat swirled throughout my hands at his touch and I tried to
tame
the butterflies that flapped wildly in the pit of my stomach. 

“I knew you had daddy issues.”

My smile faded as I ripped my hands out from under his. “You’re such an asshole,” I said defensively, feeling stupid for sharing anything of importance with him.

“If you stop calling me names, I’ll tell you something personal about me.” 

“I don’t want to know.” I folded my arms across my chest.

He swallowed his food when loud shouts drew his attention. He looked up from our table, grumbling under his breath. 

“What is it?” I asked him, looking around for the source of the shouting. My eyes fell on two muscular-looking guys in baseball hats. “Friends of yours?”

“Not exactly.” 

I took another bite of my burger when a loud
thwap
diverted my attention. I jumped in my seat and noticed one of the guys had pounded his fist on top of our table, causing the quarters to spill out around me. I reached for my drink, steadying it before it toppled over. I looked at Jack, whose face was slowly turning a shade of purple. His hand flexed, his knuckles whitening with each compression. 

“Get out of my face, Jared,” he threatened, his jaw tight.

“Not so tough sober, eh Jack?”

Jack looked at me with pleading eyes, as if apologizing for what was to come. Then he glared up at the unwelcome visitors crowding our table. “You’re just begging to get your ass kicked twice in one week, aren’t ya?” 

“Get up!” Jared challenged.

“Can’t you see I’m on a date?” He gestured toward me.

Jared glanced in my direction. “Like she matters. Just one of many, isn’t that what you always say?”

Jack jumped out from behind the table and puffed out his chest. “Don’t talk about her like that. Don’t even fucking look at her. You hear me?” He took a step toward Jared, his fist clenched tightly at his side.

Jared noticed Jack’s intent and offered slyly, “Another time then.”

“I highly doubt that.” Jack seethed, the veins in his neck throbbing. 

Jared leaned in close to my face before walking away. “At least you’re pretty. Come find me after he tosses you into the garbage with all the others. I promise to sleep with you more than once.” 

My mouth opened to respond when Jared’s body was suddenly ripped out of view. Jack pummeled him against the floor with a loud thud. Jared tried to kick, but Jack was too quick, moving out of the way before he could make contact. Jared scrambled to get up, but Jack threw his fist into Jared’s jaw as the sound of bones crunching filled the air.

“I told you,” Jack said as he punched him again, “…not to talk to her.” Another hit and I gasped when Jared’s bright red blood splattered across the clean, white-tiled floor.

I shook my head, struggling to make sense of this crazy, unexpected scene. “Jack! Jack, stop!” I scooted out of the booth and pulled at the shirt stretched across his back, begging for his assault to end. Jack delivered another blow to the ribs and I threw my body onto his back, leaning as close to his ear as I could get without getting hit. “Jack, stop.” 

His head snapped up. He glanced down at Jared, then lifted his head to look around at the gawking crowd and then back to me, his eyes sad. “I’m sorry, Kitten.”

It was the first time that name didn’t piss me off. I helped him to his feet, my body shaking with shock.

Our waitress, Sarah, hurried over, shaking her head. “You have to go, Jack. Just get your stuff and go.”

“Sarah, tell Carl I’m sorry about the mess.” Jack wiped his face, still red from anger, and now probably embarrassment as well. He scooped the quarters into their paper bag and tossed two twenties on the table before grabbing my hand and pulling me out the door. 

When we reached the car, he opened the passenger door, lifted me in, and then walked over to the driver’s side, his head shaking the entire time. I watched his chest slowly rise and fall with each breath he took. “I’m sorry, Cassie. I shouldn’t have let him get to me.”

“What was that even about?” I asked, eyeing his bloody knuckles.

Jack settled into the driver’s seat and looked out his window, avoiding my gaze. “I slept with his girlfriend.” 

My heart throbbed as his admission caused an ache of disappointment to spread throughout my chest. “Right when I think you might be halfway decent, you say something that fucks it all up.”

He gripped the steering wheel tightly and turned to me, his dark hair flopping forward. “I didn’t know.”

“Don’t bullshit me, Jack.”

“I’m not. I promise. She said she was single.”

I sank into my seat as the breath I unwittingly held escaped from between my lips. “Well, she sucks. That girl.”

He forced half a grin. “Yeah, she does.”

He started the engine and I felt the rumble violently vibrating my seat. I quickly buckled myself in and said a silent prayer that we wouldn’t die on the drive home. 

We spent the drive back to my apartment in silence, the radio providing background noise as we each buried ourselves in our own private thoughts. I watched as the lights of the town streamed past in a neon blur, my mind replaying the events of the evening. Jack pulled his deathmobile in one of the spots marked
Visitor
in front of my building, and turned the ignition off, but didn’t make any effort to move. I reached for my door handle. “You know,” he said, “my dad’s an ass too.” His voice sliced through the warm evening air.

I allowed my hand to slide down the side of the door, releasing the grip I held. I turned my body to face him before I leaned back into the seat. “Tell me.”

He avoided my eyes, reluctant to continue. I wondered if he regretted starting to open up to me, but I wasn’t about to let him off the hook.

“Please?” 

“He took off when Dean was three. He just left one morning for work and never came back. My mom was frantic looking for him. Called every hospital, police station, hotel, but he was nowhere. I remember her tearing through the phone book with such fear and desperation in her eyes. She flipped the pages and tried to dial the numbers, but her fingers were shaking so badly I had to do it for her.” He sighed sadly.

I wanted to reach out for him, but didn’t. Thinking that somehow my touch would stop his train of thought and I wouldn’t get to experience this side of him again, I kept my hands tucked between my legs and pressed my lips firmly together.

“I don’t really remember my dad. But when my mom left…”

I could no longer stay silent. “Your mom left you guys too?” My mouth fell open in shock as my heart literally ached for him.

“Yeah. I distinctly remember her saying that we were
so bad
, she couldn’t take it anymore. She said she couldn’t raise two bad boys on her own, so she had to go.”

“Holy shit. She said that? How old were you?” Each breath I took felt like it was being ripped from my lungs.

“I was eight. Dean was five.”

“Jack, I’m so sorry. I can’t even imagine.” I reached out my hand and settled it on his thigh.