The Other Game (The Perfect Game 4)

I spent the next five days with my brother and his new teammates. Most of my afternoons were spent alone while the guys were at the field, filling out paperwork and working out, but I didn’t mind. It gave me time to work on my tan and float on the gator without having to share her with Spencer. He was very possessive.

I was fortunate enough to still be in town for Jack’s first game as a professional baseball player, and I couldn’t have been more proud. His new stadium was huge, way bigger than the one at Fullton State, and held a lot more screaming fans who already knew exactly who my brother was.

When the game ended, I’d never seen so many girls waiting for autographs before. The way girls acted at Fullton had been nothing compared to the way they were now. They flirted shamelessly with Jack, touching him and shoving their phone numbers into his pockets as we left the field one night. It was fucking insanity, but he seemed unfazed by it. His focus and heart were with only one girl.

By the time I left to fly back home, I’d not only grown attached to Jack’s new house, but his new friends as well. I had never wanted to stay in one place so badly before. But Jack reminded me that he’d be on the road half the summer, and he’d be back home before I knew it.

So I begrudgingly agreed to go home. The knowledge that I’d see Melissa and Cassie again soon was the only part that made leaving remotely bearable; Gran and Gramps too. You never realized how much you missed someone until they weren’t around on a daily basis, yelling at you about your language and the mess you left in the kitchen.

When Jack finally dropped me off at the airport, he left me with firm instructions once again to look after his girl and to finally try to pin down my own. I guess it was time to either shit or get off the pot.

He wished me luck as I walked into the terminal, heading home for the first time in my life without my brother.

Weird without Jack

Being home without Jack was weird as hell. It was one thing when he was gone for an away series of games; I always knew he’d be home soon. But him being upstate for months was a different beast altogether. And we weren’t sure when exactly he’d be back for good. It all depended on how well the team did this summer, and how far they got into their post-season.

I missed him like crazy and found myself spending more time in his room than in my own. It helped just being in there sometimes, made him feel less far away.

I was in his room studying one just before dinner about a week after I’d flown home. The doorbell rang, and I heard either Gran or Gramps scrambling to get up to answer it.

“I’ll get it,” I shouted so they could stay seated. When I pulled open the door, a man stood there, holding a clipboard like a delivery guy, but he wasn’t wearing a uniform.

“Are you Dean Carter?”

“Maybe,” I said evasively, not sure what the hell was going on.

“I have a delivery for you. Sign here, please.” He shoved the clipboard toward me and handed me his pen as I looked on the ground for a package of some sort since he wasn’t carrying one.

“What is it?” I asked as I signed where he’d indicated.

He waved a hand toward the gunmetal-gray Mustang parked at the curb, its windows tinted almost black.

Stunned, I stepped outside. “Um, I think this must be a mistake,” I said, babbling like an idiot.

He frowned, impatient and not at all amused. “Do you know Jack Carter?”

“That’s my brother,” I said, still goggling at the brand-new car.

“Well, he must like you a lot. It’s yours.” He dropped a set of keys into my hand before handing me a copy of the paperwork I’d just signed.

I stood there with my jaw hanging open, unable to move or even believe what I was seeing. I knew damn well that Jack could afford this, but I didn’t need a brand-new car. It was too much.

When I ran inside the house for my phone, Gramps shouted after me, wanting to know what was going on. Ignoring him for the moment, I dialed Jack’s number and waited.

“What’s up, little brother?” he asked, his tone filled with mischief.

“I think you know,” I practically stuttered.

“What do you think? It’s been your favorite car since you were thirteen.”

“Jack, it’s too much. Really. I don’t need something like that, I swear.”

“I know you don’t need it. But I wanted to get it for you. Just let me do something nice for you, okay? And by the way, a new Honda is coming for Gran and Gramps tomorrow. You’ve been warned. Gotta go,” he said, and I stopped him before he hung up.

“Wait! Thank you. It’s too much, but thank you. It’s gorgeous.”

“I know it is.” He laughed before ending our call.