The Perfect Game (The Perfect Game #1)
Page 19“Everyone’s going to the game, right?” I asked, changing the subject.
He pushed himself up with one arm until he sat facing me. “Why won’t you just come with me when I go?” He slid his thumb down my cheek.
“Because you have to be there an hour before the game starts. For what, I have no idea, but I’m not going that early.” I pouted, eyeing him with my best puppy dog impression.
He put his hand behind my neck and pulled me to him, his mouth meeting mine halfway as the overgrown scruff on his face scratched at my bare cheeks. “Seriously, when are you going to shave?”
His lips pulled up into a slight smile. “You know I can’t shave until we lose, Kitten. And we’re not losing, so probably not ever.”
I rolled my eyes. “You guys and your superstitions.”
“You love it,” he whispered into my ear before sucking at my lobe softly with his mouth, causing my senses to disappear.
“Yep, sure do,” was my only response as he continued working down my neck.
He gently pushed me onto my back and leaned on top of me, his dark brown eyes boring into mine. “You are so beautiful. You know that?”
I let out a small breath before pulling his head down and arching toward his lips. His tongue pushed its way into my mouth with intensity. I ran my hands down his back and slipped my fingers into the waistband of his shorts before lifting his shirt up in succession with my own.
A slight sound escaped my lips at the feeling of his bare skin hot against mine. Chills coursed through me, appearing up and down my legs and arms. His breath was warm on my neck, small kisses being delivered around my ears and cheeks until meeting my mouth once more.
“Cassie.” He mumbled my name, his breath ragged.
Without a word, I slipped out from under him and stretched out my hand. He laced his fingers with mine and I led him away from the living room and into my bedroom, where I closed the door behind us.
Jack opened Matt’s front door without knocking and led me inside. I watched as five baseball players with hairy faces turned their heads in our direction and smiles instantly appeared on all their faces.
“Carter! What’s up, buddy! Hey, Cass,” Matt yelled from the round table where they were playing a drinking and card game.
“Hey, Jack. Hey, Cassie.” Ryan greeted us without looking up from his hand, his forehead creased in concentration.
Dean picked up his cell phone, checking the time. “Finally! Where have you two been?”
“Not sure I’ll ever get used to you holding some girl’s hand,” Brett added, his blue eyes locked pointedly on our intertwined fingers.
“Get used to it, BT, she’s not just some girl.” Jack planted a kiss on the side of my face and gently squeezed my fingers.
“I like that you’ve finally found someone, Jack. And I especially like that she isn’t some stupid skank.” Matt’s girlfriend Jamie walked out from the kitchen with a smirk.
I laughed. “Love you too, Jame!”
“You have to admit my worry was valid!” She pursed her lips together, her brown ponytail bouncing. “Now get in here and help me,” she called out, after disappearing back behind the wall.
“I love that girl,” he said to his teammates before sitting at the table. “Deal me in.”
I entered the kitchen before giving Jamie a quick squeeze as I glanced back at the group of guys. “Their facial hair is killing me. They look freaking horrible.”
“Please don’t remind me. I try to pretend it’s all a bad dream,” Jamie said, rubbing her palm against her cheek.
“Ahem, ladies.” Matt pretended to clear his throat. “We can hear you, ya know!”
“Like we care!” Jamie said with a huff.
“Hey! Don’t curse our winning streak!” Cole answered back before slapping his hand over his mouth.
“Jesus, Cole, who raised you? The first rule about the winning streak is you don’t talk about the winning streak!” Ryan punched him in the shoulder.
“You guys are just lucky we keep kissing you,” Jamie said, attempting to steer the attention from poor Cole.
“I second that,” Jack belted out, his eyes meeting mine briefly before settling back on his cards.
“Pussy,” Brett teased, his eyes focused on the deck of cards in his hand.
“I’ll knock you into the middle of next week if you don’t shut up, BT,” Jack threatened, his jaw rigid.
“He’s just jealous ’cause no girls want to go anywhere near him,” Cole teased as he removed his baseball hat and tossed it on the floor.
“I can’t keep the girls off me. It’s you no one wants,” Brett chipped back.
The card game continued until Jack checked the clock on the wall and rose from the table. He slammed back a shot of tequila before speaking. “Kitten, I gotta go. Get out here and give me some loving.”
I eyeballed Jamie. “Seriously? Do you hear this guy?” I said with a nod in Jack’s direction.
Jamie laughed and gave me a hearty shove. “Get out there.”
“You come to me,” I insisted, staring him down.
All eyes were on us, entertained by our stubborn battle.
“Gladly,” Jack responded and walked hastily toward me. He lifted me up in the air and I wrapped my legs around his waist.
“Keep it in your pants, pal,” I whispered into his ear before nibbling on his neck.
“You better stop or I’ll throw you on the floor and have my way with you.” He yanked my hair back, forcing my head away from his before ravaging my mouth.
“We’ll just take yours,” Jack mumbled between kisses.
“Go or you’ll be late.” I unwrapped my legs and hopped down.
Jack looked at me one last time before turning to his teammates. “Make sure she doesn’t walk alone to the game.”
“I don’t need a babysitter.” I frowned at him, rolling my eyes.
“Dean?” he said sternly.
“I got her, J. I promise we’ll all go together. She won’t be alone.” Dean smiled at me and then looked reassuringly at his brother.
“See you guys at the game.” Jack closed the door and all eyes fell on me.
“What? Don’t look at me, I’m not the crazy one!” I yelled, shaking my head.
“Just so you know, I’ve never seen him act this way about anyone other than Gran,” Dean said, without looking up from his cards.
I tried not to smile, but failed miserably.
Forty minutes later, the group of us headed toward the far end of campus. The guys were playful as they walked, bumping into one another and knocking each other’s hats off. I stopped walking to fall slightly behind when Dean turned around, noticing my absence. I waved him ahead, pulling out my camera and removing the lens cap. When he saw my intention, he rejoined the group with a big smile.
I knelt on the sidewalk, framing the group of guys in the viewfinder, smiling to myself at how happy they all looked. Click. Another shot of Dean’s hand smacking Brett’s hat off. Click. Jamie and Matt holding hands from the back was too much for me to resist. Click.
“That’s a nice camera.” A harsh voice startled me and the camera fell from my eye.
I looked up to see a large, beefy silhouette towering above me, his face shadowed by the setting sun. “Give it to me,” he insisted, before taking a swig of something hidden inside a brown paper bag.
I stood up instantly, glancing past the man’s shoulder for Dean. I was too shocked to shout. Too nervous to run. You know how you think that if you’re ever in a bad situation, you’ll be all tough, like in the movies? That’s bullshit. You’ll freeze, just like I did. All I could do was silently will Dean to look back at me. I prayed he’d notice I still hadn’t caught up.
“I said give it to me, bitch!” the man shouted before introducing the back of his hand to the side of my cheek.
His knuckles hit me with such brute force that my head flew to one side, my hair flying out all around me. I whipped my head back to face him in shock, strands of hair sticking to my eyelashes and lips.
Did he just hit me?
“That guy just hit Cassie! Hey!” I heard Dean shouting and the sound of feet heading in my direction.
I couldn’t move. My body was still frozen with shock. I couldn’t believe this stranger hit me.
He struck me again, this time punching me with a closed fist on the other side of my face. As I stumbled with the force of the blow, I looked in the direction of the group, my eyesight crystal clear. Dean sprinted full speed toward me when the man suddenly appeared in front of him. I watched as Dean shoved him, but the man lifted his brown paper bag and slammed it against the top of Dean’s head.
I watched the rest of the group as they scattered like animals in a forest fire.
Hey, wait!
Where is everyone going?
I took two steps in their direction before the man suddenly reappeared at my side. “Where do you think you’re going, bitch?”
I instinctively bent over and tried to cover my face with both arms. My eyes focused solely on the black and white design of his shoes as they danced around me. The colors blurred to the left where forceful blows crashed against the side of my face and head.
Please stop hitting me.
Blurry movement to the right and the other half of my face exploded in pain.
Please stop.
His fist interrupted my internal pleas as it collided with the side of my head once more, almost knocking me off my already shaky feet. I was his personal punching bag. Blow after blow, his blasts showed no signs of stopping, the force of each punch only growing in intensity.
Dear God, please make it stop.
I don’t care if I die right now, just please make him stop hitting me.
Please.
It hurts so bad.
And just like that his shoes disappeared from my view. I glanced up to see him running between two sets of houses in the distance, my camera flailing wildly from the strap wrapped tightly around his hand.
“Cassie!” I jerked my head down the street to see Cole waving frantically at me. “Cassie! Run!” he shouted.
I didn’t run.
I couldn’t.
My legs were shaking so forcefully I could barely hold myself upright. I stumbled toward Cole, keeping my eyes locked on his face the entire time.
“Jesus, Cassie, are you okay?” His eyes widened at the sight of me and I couldn’t stop myself from spitting, my taste buds revolting at the metallic taste.
I didn’t speak. Blood-covered saliva covered the area where I continued spitting. I pressed my fingertips against my cheeks, the pain sharp where my teeth had ripped up the inside of my mouth.