The Perfect Game (The Perfect Game #1)
Page 7I welcomed the heat rising in my cheeks. “Cute,” I admitted reluctantly, gathering the quarters into a pile at the end of the table, fighting a smile.
One for Jack Carter. Dammit.
He didn’t respond. He simply sat there smiling, focusing those dark brown eyes on me. “Stop looking at me like that,” I said, flustered.
“Like what?”
“Like I’m a slab of meat and you’re hungry.”
He laughed loudly and relaxed into his seat, slinging his muscular arm over the back of the booth. He rubbed his hand over his face and looked around, letting his eyes roam the restaurant and then his gaze slid back to me as he sipped his water. “You’re different.”
I rested my elbows on the table and leaned toward him, intrigued. “How so?”
“Well for starters, you’re sassy. I never know what you’re going to say or do next.” He grabbed one of the quarters and flicked it, watching as it spun in circles.
“That’s just sad, Jack.” I couldn’t help but be annoyed that my sassiness was so defiant in his world.
“And you’re not impressed by me.” Oh my God…he actually winced.
“Oh, I know how tough that must be for you. I mean, you are just…” I waved my hands in his direction, “so impressive.” My eyes widened sarcastically with the words.
“I mean it. Every other girl is always clamoring to get near me and you’re the first girl trying to get the hell away.”
I fell back into the booth laughing, feeling my tense muscles relax for the first time tonight. “What can I say? I guess I’m not like every other girl.”
He shook his head, burying a smile. “So tell me, Cass, what’s your story?”
“What do you want to know?” I took a gulp of water, casting my eyes away to hide the truth I just might be willing to tell him.
“Why haven’t I seen you before this year?”
“I went to community college the past two years. I just transferred.”
“Lucky me.” He took another swig of water and placed it back down. “So where are you from?”
“About two hours northwest of here. Lived in the same house my whole life. What about you?”
“I grew up ten minutes from here.”
“Really? So close. Did you even think about going anywhere else? I mean, I’m sure you had a lot of offers for baseball.” I was genuinely surprised, considering what I’d seen of his talent and everyone’s reaction to it.
He grimaced slightly before his expression softened. “I got offers everywhere. I could have gone to USC, UCLA, Texas, Florida, Georgia, Alabama…you name it.”
“So why didn’t you?” I leaned into the table with interest.
“I wanted to play for Coach Davies,” he explained. “But mostly I wanted to stay near my grandparents.” His voice lowered with emotion, his eyes focused somewhere in the distance.
“Oh.” I leaned back in shock.
“Not the answer you expected?”
“They practically raised me and Dean.”
I smiled at the mention of his brother’s name. “I like him.”
“Want me to put in a good word for you? I know him pretty well.” Jack sounded like he was teasing, but there was a bit of a sharp undertone to his offer.
“No thanks. He’s not really my type. Too nice,” I added, erasing the worry lines from his face. “How’d you both get into the same school, anyway?”
“It was one of my conditions.”
“Conditions?”
“Yeah. I only agreed to come here if they agreed to let him in too.”
My jaw dropped. “You bribed the university?”
He wagged his finger. “No. I just said I’d come here as long as when Dean was old enough, they’d let him in too.”
“And they agreed to that?” I asked, somewhat horrified. “I mean, obviously they did ’cause you’re both here.”
He laughed. “Dean would have gotten in anyway, but I wanted assurance.”
“Interesting.” I ran my fingers through my hair, tucking the stray strands back in place behind my ear, quietly fighting the sense that this guy might not be so bad after all.
He leaned across the table, inching closer to me. “What is?”
“You’re just different than I expected,” I answered, focusing on his full lips.
“That’s ’cause you’re judgmental.” He leaned back with a smile.
I closed my mouth and narrowed my eyes, unprepared for the rant that was about to leave my lips. “No. That’s ’cause you’re a pig. You’re typical and selfish and pathetic and you treat girls like shit and…”
“Hey!” he interrupted, his tone offended. “Who says I treat girls like shit?”
“Sorry, Jack, but I don’t know anyone who enjoys being fucked one minute and forgotten about the next.”
“You make it sound so heartless when you say it like that,” he admitted, my words apparently stinging.
“Well it kind of is.” I shrugged. “And you wonder why I wanted to stay away from you?”
“You thought I’d do the same thing to you.” His eyes widened as understanding settled in.
“I assumed you wanted to.”
“Of course I want to sleep with you,” he admitted without shame and I felt my inner thighs tingle. “But I’m not sold on the forgetting about you part.”
I eyed him warily, my heart racing beneath my shirt. “You probably say that to all the girls.”
“I don’t have to say that to all the girls.”
“What are you thinking about?” He reached over and tapped my hand with one finger, bringing me out of my thoughts.
“Honestly?”
“Honestly.”
“That I don’t trust myself with you.”
He folded his arms across his chest. “And why’s that?”
“Because I can’t tell whether or not you mean the things you say.”
He uncrossed his arms and leaned into the table again. “What does your heart tell you?”
“Who cares? My heart’s dumb! It believes anything,” I said, clutching at my chest above my left breast.
He laughed, his eyes glued to my hand. “Fine. What does your head tell you then?”
“My head questions everything and believes nothing.”
“So your head wants proof and your heart wants reassurance?” A small line appeared between Jack’s eyebrows.
“Pretty much.”
“I think you just made life a thousand times more difficult.” He grabbed his head with both hands and squeezed.
“That’s why I came up with my boy test…to protect myself.”
“Protect yourself from what?” he asked, reaching for another quarter.
“Guys like you.”
Our conversation was interrupted by the sound of plates being set on the table. “Here you go, two Titan specials with fries. You two need anything else?”
“I’m good. Kitten?”
I rolled my eyes so hard it hurt. “Can I get a side of ranch dressing, please? Thanks.”
My eyes widened at the sight of my burger. It looked like it could feed the entire football team. And the mound of french fries that sat next to it had to consist of twenty potatoes.
“Please tell me you can’t actually finish this?” I looked at Jack, my face shocked.
He laughed. “I can. And you better clean your whole plate.”
“Clean this?” I pointed to the plate with an incredulous look.
He laughed again before lifting the burger to his face and taking a mammoth-sized bite. Sarah dropped off the dressing and I dipped the hot fries in, biting carefully. “Holy crap, these are amazing.”
“Told you,” he managed to say, his mouth stuffed with food.
“So tell me about your boy test.” He picked up his napkin to swipe at a smear of ketchup on his chin.
“Forget I said anything about it.” I waved him off with my hands.
“Come on, Cass. I want to know.” He eyed me curiously.
“Fine,” I relented. “But you can’t make fun of me.”
Both dimples appeared on his cheeks and my heart fluttered quickly. “I won’t. Promise.”
I didn’t believe that smile, but I gave in anyway. With a deep breath I rattled off, “They’re more like rules. Rule number one: Don’t lie. Two: Don’t cheat. Three: Don’t make promises you can’t keep. And four: Don’t say things you don’t mean.”
“That’s it?” he asked in disbelief.
“They may not mean much to you, but they mean everything to me.” I sighed, slightly embarrassed that I’d shared my list with him.
“I don’t mean any offense, Kitten. It’s just…well, those seem like pretty normal expectations to me.”
“You’d think so,” I agreed, taking a bite of my monstrosity they called a cheeseburger.
“But?”
“But most guys can’t seem to do them. They lie. They cheat. And most people in general can’t keep their promises, or stop themselves from saying things they don’t really mean.”
“What about you?”
My forehead creased. “What about me?”
“Can you follow your own rules?” he asked, his tone serious.
“I try to live my life following those rules. Otherwise you hurt people.”
He took a quick, short breath. “So did people lie to you a lot or something? Some guy break your heart in high school?”
“It’s more like my dad can’t seem to follow through on anything he says. He always tells me a lot of things, but he never actually does them.” I hesitated.
“Like what?” Jack leaned forward, intrigue written all over his face.
“I don’t know, like everything. He promised he’d be at my graduation, and then he didn’t show. He says he won’t be late to things, but he always is. Or how he’ll buy me something, but then he doesn’t. He makes promises he can’t keep. All. The. Time. But it’s not just to me, you know? He tells other people things and they believe him. And when he doesn’t come through, I’m usually the one left picking up the pieces since he’s nowhere to be found.”
I paused, suddenly insecure with my admission. “Is that stupid?”
“No. Your dad sounds like an ass.” He frowned, his face twisted with disgust.
I looked into his eyes and then down at his mouth before continuing. “Have you ever noticed how pretty and beautiful words can be? How easy it is to say the things you think someone wants to hear. How you can affect a person’s entire day with just a few measly sentences?”