The Sweetest Game (The Perfect Game 3)

“See you later. Thanks for the ride,” I said as I hopped out of the car before he could, and headed into my building.

Upstairs, I walked through our front door, desperate for my girl. “Cassie?” I yelled into the silence and waited. No response. She didn’t go to the game this afternoon because she had to work and I wasn’t pitching.

Glancing at my cell phone, I realized she was probably still at her office. I couldn’t wait; I’d go fucking insane if I didn’t talk to her. She needed to know what was happening and I needed to tell her sooner rather than later.

There was no later. We’d have to leave New York in just a few short days.

I dialed her phone and paced the floor as I waited for her to pick up.

“Hey, babe,” she said, her voice a soothing balm on my shattered nerves.

“Kitten, what time will you be home tonight?” I tried to hide the urgency in my tone, but failed.

“Why?” she asked sharply, immediately on high alert. “Are you okay? I can leave right now if you need me to. ”

“Yes. I need you to,” I admitted.

“Is everything okay? Are you okay?” she asked, the worry in her tone heartbreaking.

I tugged at my hair as I paced. “I’m fine, I promise. I just need you to come home. ”

“Okay. I’ll be right there. ”

I paced a fucking hole in the floor the fifteen minutes it took Cassie to walk through our door. The second she did, I practically sprinted to her and pulled her into my arms. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. ”

“What’s going on? Jack, you’re scaring me,” she confessed, her face draining of color.

“I’m getting traded,” I blurted out.

Any of the remaining pink in her cheeks instantly vanished. “W-where?”

“They asked me if I had a preference and I said yes, but I won’t know until the trade goes through. ”

“Where?” she asked again, her tone more demanding this time.

“Either Anaheim or Toronto. ”

“Okay. Okay. ” Her eyes lost focus for a second, then the rapid-fire questions began. “So then what? We have to move, right? And get rid of this place. Do you help me move? Of course you don’t. How does this work?” She paused, the wheels in her head clicking and turning clear as day, then realization set in. “I have to quit my job. Oh my God. I love my job. ”

I wanted to fix it. Fix every single thing for her. Tell her she never had to quit anything for me. Or move for me. Or change her life in any possible way for me, but I’d die without her. I needed this girl the way plants needed oxygen. So I could tell her all of those things, but I’d be lying through my teeth. And she’d know it.

Cassie looked at me, her green eyes bright with tears. “How does this work? Tell me what this means. ”

The look on her face broke my heart. I pulled her toward the couch and onto my lap, then wrapped my arms around her. I’d tell her anything she wanted to hear, but first I needed to feel her close to me. I needed to be touching her while I did it.

I pressed my head against her rib cage. “I have to leave the night the trade goes through. Whenever that is and wherever we are. The game will end and they’ll hand me a plane ticket. ”

“What if you’re on the road?” she asked, playing with the strands of my hair.

“Then I leave from there. I don’t get to come home and see you or pack or anything like that. If we’re on a road trip, I leave straight from the road to meet up with the other team, wherever they are. ”

“That’s harsh,” she said and I laughed.

“It is kinda harsh. ”

She sucked in a deep breath. “And you don’t get any time off, right? I mean, you guys only get forty-eight hours when your wives have babies, so you wouldn’t get time off for this. ”

“No, I don’t get any time off. But that doesn’t mean you have to do all this alone. You can talk to your boss, and make a plan. You don’t have to come with me right away. If we wait until the off-season, I can help you pack and we can move together. ”