The Game Changer (The Perfect Game 2)

“I think you’re enjoying this a little too much. ” He pulled the pillow out from under me, and my head crashed against the mattress.

“Hey!” I yelled, stretching for the pillow he held just out of reach. “Jack, really. I need to know. ”

He threw my pillow across the room and then patted the top of his invitingly. Forcing me to share his pillow, he pressed his forehead against mine.

“You want to hear how I starting stalking you as soon as I got back to Arizona?”

“Uh, absolutely,” I practically squealed, and he laughed.

“I’ll tell you over breakfast. I’m starving. ” He winked and planted a kiss on my forehead before hopping out of bed. Then he stretched his arms above him and his muscles flexed and bulged. My gaze locked onto his defined, tanned abs. “Like what you see?”

“Eh, I’ve seen better,” I said playfully, refusing to feed the beast that is Jack Carter’s ego.

“I highly doubt it. ” He ran a hand down the length of his well-chiseled stomach. “This is Grade-A certified goods right here. You’re lucky I don’t charge admission. ”

“To what? The gun show?” I pointed at his arms, my lips curling up in amusement.

“Exactly! The gun show,” he teased, before jumping on the bed and pinning me beneath him. He held me tight as I squirmed, trying to wriggle out of his hold. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“I thought we were eating,” I said with attitude, cocking my head to one side.

He released a hard breath, pushing himself off the bed. “Let’s go, then. You’re the one who can’t stop looking at me like I’m a piece of meat. ”

“You called yourself Grade-A! That’s a meat label!” I shouted, my voice animated as I picked up a pillow and tossed it at him.

He snagged it effortlessly from the air. “Are you done playing? I thought you wanted to hear the rest of the story. ” He smirked before walking out of the bedroom, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

Stalker

Jack

When she finally walked into the kitchen wearing nothing but my T-shirt, I almost turned her ass around and marched her right back into the bedroom. Ignoring the throbbing in my shorts, I stared into her nearly empty refrigerator. “You have no food,” I complained, closing the door.

“I eat out a lot. ” She shrugged. “But I have cereal. And bread. ”

She put four slices of bread in the toaster, and I led her by the hand to the kitchen table, pulling her chair out for her. I placed an empty bowl and spoon in front of her, followed by the milk and a box of cereal. Then I sat next to her, filling my bowl to the top with the crunchy shit.

“Can I hear about the stalking now,” she pleaded as she poured milk into her bowl.

“First of all, Kitten, you have to understand that I made myself a compromise. I had to put you in the back of mind until the season was over. I knew that if I lost both baseball and you, I’d have nothing in my life. I’d never be able to survive that much loss. ”

I was sure she understood this, knowing me as well as she did, but it still needed to be said. The mere thought of not having baseball or my Kitten gutted me inside and left me hollow.

“I get that. ” Her eyes softened with understanding before narrowing devilishly. “Now get to the stalking. ”

Slowly I spooned a large heaping of cereal into my mouth before saying another word. My pace of storytelling was torturing her and I knew it. I liked having the upper hand in a situation where I really had no hand at all. I was lucky she didn’t slam the door in my face last night. Normally not one for second chances, this girl broke all her rules for me. I’d give her anything she fucking wanted. I’d answer every question twice if she needed me too.

“You’re stalling,” she said, rising from her chair to grab the toast.

My compromise ended the moment we lost the last home game and our postseason finished. I had two weeks to pack up my temporary apartment in Arizona and move out. I didn’t have very many things there since most of my stuff still sat unattended at the house in Alabama. The house I’d shared with that bitch Chrystle. I knew I’d have to head back there to pack it all up before my life could move forward again, but I dreaded the very thought. If I could help it, I’d never step foot in that fucking state again. Thank God Alabama doesn’t have a major league baseball team.

Grabbing a bottle of water, I walked into the living room and fell onto the couch. I reached for my cell, searching for my lawyer’s name in my contacts. I selected his number, pressed Call, and relaxed into the cushions, pushing my head into the pillows.

“Hey, Jack, what’s up?” Marc’s voice rang out loudly, cutting through the noise in the background.

“Do you have a minute? I need to talk to you. ”

“Of course. Hold on a sec. ” With the slamming of a door, the previous distractions were silenced. “OK, I’m here. What’s going on? Are you OK?”