The Perfect Game (The Perfect Game 1)

“Hey, babe!” she answered, her tone excited and bubbly.

“Did you hear?”

“I watched the game online. Congratulations!” She squealed as I pulled my cell phone from my ear. “I’m so proud of you, baby!”

I leaned my head against the wall and closed my eyes, visualizing her gorgeous face. “God, I miss you,” I breathed out with a sigh.

“Me too. I wish I was there. ” Her quiet, wistful tone tugged at my heart.

“I wish you were too. More than anything I wish you were celebrating this night with me. ”

“I’m so happy for you, Jack. ”

“Thanks, Kitten. I should probably go. I’ll call you later, okay?” My teammates filed out of the showers, eyeing me and pointing at their wrists.

“Have fun tonight. I love you,” she said and I grinned.

“I love you too. Night,” I replied before shutting my phone off.

*****

The local bar seemed packed to capacity by the time we sauntered in. I walked through the front door with two of my teammates and the entire bar broke out into hoots and shouting. Before I knew it, drinks and shots were being handed to me from all directions. I downed the first three shots without hesitation and held on tightly to a bottle of beer. I looked around to thank whoever sent them over, but the dim lighting made it virtually impossible to distinguish individual people in the thick crowd.

“Great game tonight, Jack,” a petite brunette remarked as she grabbed my arm.

I looked at the hand touching me before removing it and placing it at her side. “Thanks. ”

Her hand wrapped around my waist. “The name’s Chrystle. ”

I removed her hand again more forcefully. “I didn’t ask. ”

“Figured you’d want to know,” she said, inching her body closer to mine.

“And why’s that?” I asked, laying on the bored tone I usually used to discourage groupies.

She got on her tippy toes and leaned closer. “’Cause you’ll be screaming it later,” she whispered in my ear with a smile.

“Not a chance. ” I frowned and turned my back to her before wading through the crowd toward a table in the back.

I reached my excited teammates and quickly sat down. “I’m starving! Please tell me there’s food here. ” My stomach growled on cue and I looked around, noticing the insane amount of tequila shots covering the tabletop.

“Hell yes, there’s food! It’s just not here yet. So drink up, man. That was a hell of a game tonight, Carter!” My first baseman, Logan, slid a shot in my direction to celebrate.

The rest of the table erupted in similar congratulations and compliments, followed by high fives and knuckle-bumps, as we all grabbed a shot and drank a toast. I looked up from the table and noticed Chrystle eyeing me from the other end of the bar. She winked at me before taking a swig of her beer.

I elbowed Logan, who’d played on this team the past two seasons. “Hey, man. Who’s that chick at the end of the bar?”

“Which chick?” he asked with a chortle.

“The little brunette staring at us over there. ”

“Oh, Chrystle? She’s basically a groupie on a mission. I’d steer clear of her if I were you,” he warned before downing another shot of the amber liquid.

“Trust me. I’m trying. ”

“Here. Drink these. ” He slid two shots over and I downed them one after the other, wincing after I swallowed. “You’re definitely on her radar. ” He pointed at Chrystle engrossed in conversation with our head coach as both sets of eyes stared in our direction.

“I don’t want to