The Other Game (The Perfect Game 4)

I dropped my head in my hand in frustration. Talking to Cassie was like talking to a brick wall.

“Nope, I won’t. Not until he gets home. And don’t you dare say a thing to him either, Dean. I don’t want you tipping him off so he has an entire weekend to think up the perfect response.”

Jesus, this girl was relentless.

“I’m not saying a word to him. But can you please at least send him a text?” I begged. “Just give him something so he can focus on the game. Please do that for him.”

The line fell silent between us, so silent that I pulled the phone away to glance at the screen to see if we were still connected. We were.

“Fine,” she finally blurted. “I’ll text him as soon as you let me get off the phone.”

I released a small laugh. “Talk to you later then.”

“Wait! Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“You know I’m not picking him up on Sunday.”

Damn it. I sighed, and

said, “I’ll come get his car.”

“Thanks. ’Bye.”

When she hung up, my thoughts pinged from wondering if Cassie was going to text Jack, to worrying how I was going to pick up his Bronco from her place. I didn’t want to involve Gran and Gramps in any of the drama, and while the girls’ apartment wasn’t far, it was too far to walk.

A text message pinged, and when I saw my brother’s name on the screen, I hesitated.

Jack: Any news?

Dean: She said she’s busy with a photography project that’s due.

Jack: Thanks, man. Sorry I flipped out. I think I’m losing my mind.

Dean: I told you she was fine. See you Sunday, bro. Good luck.

I pushed my laptop aside and fell back on my bed before I called Melissa again.

“What now?” she said.

“I need a favor.”

She huffed out an exasperated breath. “Another one?”

“Cassie said she’s not picking Jack up on Sunday. Can you come get me and take me back to your place so I can pick up his truck? I know it’s a lot to ask,” I said, and then waited for her to respond. It seemed like I was always waiting for this girl.

“No biggie. I’ll come get you. Now?”

“Now works. Thanks.”

I reached for my shoes and slipped them on before lacing them up, and then dug through the small drawer in my nightstand. When I found the bottle I was looking for, I pulled out three aspirin for the headache I felt coming on. After downing them with a sip of water, I walked into the living room where Gran and Gramps were sitting in their recliners, watching TV.

“Melissa’s coming to get me so I can go get the Bronco. I’ll be right back, though.”

Gran narrowed her eyes on me, instantly suspicious. I could never get anything past that woman.

“Why are you getting Jack’s truck?” she asked, then glanced at Gramps. “I thought Cassie was looking after it?”