The Game Changer (The Perfect Game 2)

“By that point I was waiting to see if the trade would go through. No one knew I was trying to get traded. Not even Dean. ”

“I…” Cassie paused, exhaling, “don’t even know what to say. ”

“I feel like someone out of a fucking Lifetime movie. Or some piece of shit from the Maury Povich show. Saying all of this out loud. ” I stopped to look at her green eyes.

God, she’s so beautiful. How could I have ever hurt her?

“It’s all so insane to me. ”

“It’s a lot to take in,” she agreed.

Subject Change

Cassie

Reliving it all, when it wasn’t that far in the past to begin with, was beyond overwhelming. I had no idea all the things Jack had gone through during our time apart. Parts of it broke my heart and other parts downright pissed me off. I was half tempted to tell him to stop. That I didn’t want to hear any more. That I’d heard enough. What could there possibly still be left to say?

But my mind—my ever-loving, godforsaken, pain-in-the-ass mind—wouldn’t let it go. My mind would be the biggest monkey wrench in our getting back on track. I didn’t want to be stupid. I’d already accepted Jack’s apology and welcomed him into my home with open arms, but going forward, I didn’t want to be dumb ever again. There would be no next time if he fucked up. There would be no more chances. A girl can only take so much.

“Another break,” I suggested, and knew immediately what crossed Jack’s mind when I saw the knowing look on his face. “Not that kind of break. ”

“Why not?” He licked his lips and my jaw dropped open.

“A change-of-subject break. ”

“And change-of-location break?” He nodded his head toward the direction of the bedroom.

I narrowed my eyes, barely able to see him through the tiny slits. “Fine. But only talking first. ”

Jack laughed. “Talking first. Sex after. ”

“Jack!” I howled, my cheeks flushing.

“Come on, I can barely move anyway, I’m so full. New York pizza is fucking good. ”

“I know, right?” I said. New York pizza was unlike anything we had in California. Don’t get me wrong, we had plenty of “New York style” pizza places back home, but they were nothing like this. This had become, hands down, my most favorite style of pizza. Ever. “They say it’s the water. ”

“They say what? What water?” Jack asked as he put the dirty dishes into the sink.

“The pizza. They say it’s so good here because of the water. It does something to the dough. I don’t know if that’s true, but I totally buy it. ” Every time I shared a tidbit of information I’d learned about New York since living here, an excited chill coursed down my spine. I loved being the person teaching Jack all this stuff.

“Sounds good to me. ” He grabbed a towel and dried off his hands before turning to me. “Shall we?”

“If you insist,” I said.

“Oh, I insist alright. ”

I walked into the bedroom and began stripping down, when Jack blurted out, “I thought you said we weren’t—”

“I’m just getting into my pajamas!” I interrupted. “I hate lying in bed in jeans. ”

“Damn. ”

“I thought you were full?”

He licked his lips. “I am, but there’s always room for K-I-T-E-N. ” He sang the word like the Jell-O jingle, and I laughed.

“You forgot a T,” I teased.