The Other Game (The Perfect Game 4)

“No, Jack. No,” Marc insisted. “That’s not a good idea. You don’t even know if this baby is yours, and you definitely shouldn’t marry her without proof. This kind of thing happens all the time. Girls try to trap professional athletes every day—”

He paused to listen. “I understand that, but—”

When Jack interrupted him again, he sucked in a deep breath. “I get what you’re saying, but—”

This time, it sounded like it was Marc who did the interrupting. His expression was furious as he said, “Jack, this isn’t a good idea. As your agent, I would strongly oppose you doing anything of that nature until after the baby is born and we have proof.”

Shaking his head, Marc handed my cell back to me. “He won’t listen,” he said before stalking back into his office.

I put the phone back to my ear. “Jack?”

“I’m here. Don’t do that shit again. This isn’t anyone’s decision but mine, and I’ve made up my mind. I’ve been thinking about this for some time now, and it’s the only thing that makes sense. It’s the best option.”

“No. I don’t see how you’re coming to that conclusion at all.” I wanted to rip every piece of hair from my head one strand at a time. I was convinced it would be less painful than trying to make sense of my brother’s twisted logic.

“Little brother, listen to me,” he said, and I stopped talking. “I was only calling because I wanted to ask you to be my best man. I need you.” When I said nothing, just closed my eyes as I tried to stop the whirlwind spinning around me, he said, “Dean?”

I sighed. “Of course, man. Of course I will.”

How could I not be there for Jack? He was my brother, and I’d do anything for him. Even if it meant going to a wedding I didn’t agree with, and watching him ruin his life.

“Thanks. Means a lot. The wedding’s soon.”

“How soon?”

Great. Something else I could add to the list of things I couldn’t believe were happening. It felt like I was living in an alternate universe these days, making me wish like hell I could find a wormhole.

Jack sighed. “I’ll let you know.”

“You’ve got to call Gran, Jack. Please. I can’t keep lying to them.”

“I know. I’m going to call her right now and tell her everything.”

Finally. I breathed out a long sigh of relief for what felt like the first time in weeks.

“Good. Thank you for that. Are you going to tell Cassie?”

“Eventually,” he said, his tone clipped.

“You’re going to be the death of that poor girl.” And me, I added silently as I imagined how much more crushed she would be after hearing this.

“Well, I’m already dead inside, so . . .”

I waited for him to finish his sentence, but he never did. We were silent for a moment, neither one of us saying anything until Jack finally said he’d better go call Gran. I couldn’t end the call fast enough, I w

as so desperate for him to fill them in.

When I put down the phone, I looked up to see Marc leaning against his doorjamb, watching me with a worried look on his face.

“Marc, how do I stop him?”

He shook his head sadly. “I don’t know, but if we can’t, we have to at least get him to sign a pre-nup. We have to protect him when he isn’t protecting himself.”

“Agreed. Okay.”

“Dean, go home. Your grandparents are going to need you after that phone call. I’ll try to figure some things out on my end.”

“You sure?”