The Perfect Game (The Perfect Game 1)

He didn’t respond. He simply sat there smiling, focusing those dark brown eyes on me. “Stop looking at me like that,” I said, flustered.

“Like what?”

“Like I’m a slab of meat and you’re hungry. ”

He laughed loudly and relaxed into his seat, slinging his muscular arm over the back of the booth. He rubbed his hand over his face and looked around, letting his eyes roam the restaurant and then his gaze slid back to me as he sipped his water. “You’re different. ”

I rested my elbows on the table and leaned toward him, intrigued. “How so?”

“Well for starters, you’re sassy. I never know what you’re going to say or do next. ” He grabbed one of the quarters and flicked it, watching as it spun in circles.

“That’s just sad, Jack. ” I couldn’t help but be annoyed that my sassiness was so defiant in his world.

“And you’re not impressed by me. ” Oh my God…he actually winced.

“Oh, I know how tough that must be for you. I mean, you are just…” I waved my hands in his direction, “so impressive. ” My eyes widened sarcastically with the words.

“I mean it. Every other girl is always clamoring to get near me and you’re the first girl trying to get the hell away. ”

I fell back into the booth laughing, feeling my tense muscles relax for the first time tonight. “What can I say? I guess I’m not like every other girl. ”

He shook his head, burying a smile. “So tell me, Cass, what’s your story?”

“What do you want to know?” I took a gulp of water, casting my eyes away to hide the truth I just might be willing to tell him.

“Why haven’t I seen you before this year?”

“I went to community college the past two years. I just transferred. ”

“Lucky me. ” He took another swig of water and placed it back down. “So where are you from?”

“About two hours northwest of here. Lived in the same house my whole life. What about you?”

“I grew up ten minutes from here. ”

“Really? So close. Did you even think about going anywhere else? I mean, I’m sure you had a lot of offers for baseball. ” I was genuinely surprised, considering what I’d seen of his talent and everyone’s reaction to it.

He grimaced slightly before his expression softened. “I got offers everywhere. I could have gone to USC, UCLA, Texas, Florida, Georgia, Alabama…you name it. ”

“So why didn’t you?” I leaned into the table with interest.

“I wanted to play for Coach Davies,” he explained. “But mostly I wanted to stay near my grandparents. ” His voice lowered with emotion, his eyes focused somewhere in the distance.

“Oh. ” I leaned back in shock.

“Not the answer you expected?”

“Not really. I mean, it’s sweet and all, but I don’t get it. Why your grandparents?” I craved honesty from him. Honest words, honest thoughts, honest emotions.

“They practically raised me and Dean. ”

I smiled at the mention of his brother’s name. “I like him. ”

“Want me to put in a good word for you? I know him pretty well. ” Jack sounded like he was teasing, but there was a bit of a sharp undertone to his offer.

“No thanks. He’s not really my type. Too nice,” I added, erasing the worry lines from his face. “How’d you both get into the same school, anyway?”

“It was one of my conditions. ”