The Perfect Game

“I cannot believe I agreed to this,” I said, burying my face in my hands.

Melissa plopped down next to me on the floor of my bedroom. “This is a bad idea. You should probably call him and cancel.”

I lifted my head and let out a deep sigh. “He’d never leave me alone then!”

She nodded. “You’re right. Oh my God, you have to go.”

I pulled myself up and studied my face in my bedroom mirror. “Maybe it won’t be so bad?” I wondered as I brushed powder across my face.

“Or maybe it will?” Melissa bit her bottom lip, her face contorted in thought.

“What are you thinking?”

Melissa grinned mischievously. “If the date is horrible then he’ll go away, right?”

“That’s what he said,” I responded reluctantly.

“Well, then all you have to do is be a crappy date! You know, like what’s-her-face in How to Lose A Guy in Ten Days!”

I leaned away from her, pondering her suggestion while I dropped the brush and picked up my mascara.

“Oh my God! You little slut! You want to have a good date with him. You love him and want to have ten thousand of his little baseball babies! Cassie!!!”

“Where do you come up with this stuff?” I asked through my laughter.

“Movies. They have the best lines.” Melissa’s eyes twinkled, matching the huge grin on her face.

The doorbell rang and my laughter caught in my throat. Shit. I wasn’t ready for this. My deer-in-the-headlights look grabbed Melissa’s attention. “I’ll go let him in and keep him occupied until you’re ready.”

I sighed. “Thank you.”

I could hear the sound of our front door creaking open as his friendly voice reverberated down the hall and into my room, causing me to shake nervously. Gripping the fine liner brush tightly with a trembling hand, I finished lining my lips and brushed a soft seashell-colored gloss on top. I smacked my lips together once, then puckered to make sure the gloss was evenly spread.

Before I left my room, I did a quick squat in front of the mirror. I watched as my low-rise jeans went even lower, revealing far too much of my pink underwear. I pulled my black tank top down around my waist and bent over again. My jeans still pulled low in the back, but my top stayed firm.

I rounded the corner and heard Jack’s voice stop abruptly when he caught sight of me. “You look adorable, Kitten.” His voice practically purred.

“That’s it, I’m not going.” I threw my hands up in the air and turned back toward the hall.

He stopped me with his laughing response. “I’m sorry, Cass. I won’t call you that anymore.”

“I’m not sure you can help it.” I eyed him narrowly.

“I might slip up a time or two, but can you really blame me?” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his black and white shorts and then batted his thick eyelashes at me.

“Yes. Don’t call me Kitten. It’s annoying and it makes me hate you.”

“Is she always this argumentative?” he asked Melissa through a one-dimpled smirk.

She smiled coyly at him. “Not usually. You must be special.”

Oh my God! She turned into complete mush in two seconds! Traitor!

I shot Melissa a shocked and horrified glare and turned to see Jack smiling as if he had won the top prize at the fair.

“Don’t give me that look,” I threatened through gritted teeth.

“What?” He shrugged his strong, broad shoulders. “You think I’m special. It’s cool.”

I couldn’t resist rolling my eyes at him. “The only type of special I think you are is e-specially irritating. Like a rash.”

He let out a quick huff. “Come on, Kit…er, Cassie. Let’s go. It was nice to meet you, Melissa.” He grabbed her little five-foot-two-inch frame and squeezed until she giggled wildly.

Traitorous bitch.

“See you later, Meli.” I shook my head and mouthed, “I can’t believe you!” at her. She waved me away and blew me a kiss.

Jack led me in the direction of his car. Since I had no idea which one was his, I followed blindly one step behind. He walked over to the passenger side of a vintage white Ford Bronco covered with dents, scratches, and chipped paint.

“Are you sure this thing’s legal on the streets?” I asked, eyeing the giant, oversized tires and lack of a roof.

His eyebrows pinched together. “You scared?”

“Are you high?” I squinted toward him. “No, really, do you do drugs ’cause I don’t date guys who do drugs.”

He turned the key and the door unlatched with a pop and squeaked open. Then he took me by the hand and gently helped me up into the seat, placing his hand firmly on my rear.

“Hands off the ass, Carter,” I snapped.

“I was just helping you up. Honest.” He feigned innocence as he closed the door behind me. “You sure you’re not scared?”

“I’m not scared. This car just looks like something that belongs on a sand dune or in a monster truck rally or a repair shop.” I glanced down, noticing the silver-dollar-sized hole in the floor.

“Is it the tires?” he asked sincerely.

“They are massive.”

“Just like my—”

“I swear to God,” I quickly interrupted and turned away.

“What?” He laughed. “I was going to say heart. The tires are as big as my heart.” He patted his chest for emphasis.

“You mean as big as the hole in your chest where your heart’s supposed to be?” The verbal jab dropped out of my mouth before I could stop it.

“Ouch. Can we at least wait until dinner before you decide I’m heartless?”

“If you insist.”

“I do.” His brown eyes softened and he grabbed the wheel, put the key in the ignition, and turned. The engine rumbled to life and my seat vibrated under me. I strapped the old seatbelt around my body and gave Jack a wary glance.

“You are scared,” he said with concern.

I shook my head defiantly. “I’m fine, just go.” I gestured toward the road.

He removed his hand from the stick shift and placed it on my leg. I winced in response.

“What did I tell you about the touching?” I asked, giving him a sideways glance.

“Fifty cents. Don’t worry, I got it covered.” One dimple greeted me before quickly disappearing. “You sure you’re okay?”

I nodded as he put the car in drive and it rocked forward as he gassed it.

“Shit.” He muttered under his breath.

“What is it?” Suddenly I was concerned for our well-being. We were going to tip over from the massive tires and die.

“I meant to ask you this before we left, but I got distracted. You’re so feisty all the time, you make me forget things.” His left arm rested on top of his door panel and he leaned his head into his hand. I watched as his fingers made their way through his hair, grabbing fistfuls as he eyed the road ahead.

“So are you going to ask me, or are you going to make me guess?” I tried to hide the snark in my voice, but failed.

Jack turned to look at me briefly before returning his gaze forward. “I meant to ask you if you eat meat or not?”

I felt my face contort into a look of confusion and surprise. “So you want to know if I’m a vegetarian?”

He let out an exasperated sigh. “Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to buy you a cow. Why do you think?” He tried to keep calm, but his cheeks were slowly turning a nice shade of red.

“I don’t know. Where are you taking me?”

“I’m taking you to the best burger joint in town and they don’t have a menu for vegetarians.”

“Really? They don’t serve salads?” I asked incredulously.

“No. They don’t.” His tone turned serious as he glanced in my direction again.

I couldn’t stifle my laughter as I almost choked on my words. “I eat meat.”

He raised an eyebrow and eyed me tentatively before I smacked the shoulder nearest me with the back of my hand. “Not that kind of meat!” I huffed before looking away. “I’m not a vegetarian! You’re so irritating.”

“You keep saying that, yet here you are.”

“I didn’t realize I had a choice.” I rolled my eyes so he’d notice.

“What did I tell you about that, Kitten?”

“How many times do we have to go over this whole ‘Kitten’ thing?”

“How many times do we have to go over the eye roll thing? It’s bad for you and I’d hate to see anything happen to those gorgeous green eyes of yours.”

I struggled to formulate a comeback as his compliment floated in the air. My breath faltered and my mind stopped focusing on anything but the sound of his voice and the look on his stupid, beautiful face.

“Cat got your tongue, Kitten?”

“The next red light you come to, I swear to God, I’m jumping out of this death trap and walking home.”

He chuckled, clearly amused. “Alright, I’ll stop.”

I narrowed my eyes, refusing to believe his words. When we arrived at the restaurant, I hopped out of the car quicker than he could turn off the ignition. The place was a converted old ice cream shop. The few items they offered were written in chalk on the wall when you first walked in. An old cash register sported a handwritten note that read Cash Only, and when I got a look at the number of diners packing the room, my brain quickly went from wondering how they stayed in business to how they kept all their customers happy.

“Is it always like this?” I asked Jack, shocked at the massive crowd.

“Hey, Jack.” A gorgeous brunette rushed passed us, reaching out to touch his arm.

“Hey, Sarah. Busy tonight, eh?” he shouted, trying to be heard over the hum of the crowd.

“Always!” she answered with a smile and a wink.

It figures. “Come here often?” I asked, annoyed already.

“I told you, it’s the best burger place in town.”

Sarah reappeared and rested an arm on Jack’s shoulders. “Sit anywhere you want, sweetie. You want your usual?”

He glanced at me before answering her. “Cass, you like bacon? Fries?”

I nodded my head. “Mm-hmm.”

“Make it two, please. Thanks, Sarah.”

She looked at me briefly before turning her attention back to my date. “I get off at midnight,” she whispered in his ear loud enough for me to hear.

“I’m on a date,” he said harshly.

“Oh, of course you are. Later then.” She scurried away, her face flushed from embarrassment.

“Sorry about that.” Jack put his hand lightly at the small of my back, leading us to a small booth in the far end of the room. “Oh, I almost forgot! I’ll be right back.”

Before I could argue, he hopped from the booth and ran out the front door. I watched through the restaurant’s large plate-glass window as he opened the passenger side of his death trap and reached into the glove compartment. I fiddled with strands of my hair, tucking pieces behind my ear as I watched Jack’s every move. Two water glasses appeared in front of me and I turned to greet Sarah with a smile. She didn’t return the gesture as Jack reappeared and slid into his side of the booth.

“First things first,” he said, pulling a paper bag from his jacket pocket. I heard the sound of metal clanking against fiberglass as he poured the entire contents of the bag onto our table.

Quarters spilled out in every direction. Several rolled off the table, spilling onto the floor and into my lap, the rest covering portions of the tabletop. “What the hell?”

“Fifty cents a touch, right? This oughta cover me for a while.” He grinned, obviously proud of himself, as he folded his arms behind his head and leaned into them.

I 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?”

“Not really. I mean, it’s sweet and all, but I don’t get it. Why your grandparents?” I craved honesty from him. Honest words, honest thoughts, honest emotions.

“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.”

I sat in silence, stunned by his honesty.

“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.

I hated how cute he was. Even with a mouth full of food, he was still irritatingly adorable.

“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?”

My slight smile dropped. “But when you don’t follow them up with any action, they’re completely pointless. They’re just sounds and syllables. But they mean absolutely nothing.” My gaze glossed over as my mind wandered.

He reached across the table for my hands, but pulled away quickly before he touched them. I watched as he grabbed two loose quarters from the pile and scooted them over to my side of the table. “Almost forgot.” He smiled before placing his hands on top of mine.

I tried not to smile, but failed. Heat swirled throughout my hands at his touch and I tried to tame the butterflies that flapped wildly in the pit of my stomach.

“I knew you had daddy issues.”

My smile faded as I ripped my hands out from under his. “You’re such an asshole,” I said defensively, feeling stupid for sharing anything of importance with him.

“If you stop calling me names, I’ll tell you something personal about me.”

“I don’t want to know.” I folded my arms across my chest.

He swallowed his food when loud shouts drew his attention. He looked up from our table, grumbling under his breath.

“What is it?” I asked him, looking around for the source of the shouting. My eyes fell on two muscular-looking guys in baseball hats. “Friends of yours?”

“Not exactly.”

I took another bite of my burger when a loud thwap diverted my attention. I jumped in my seat and noticed one of the guys had pounded his fist on top of our table, causing the quarters to spill out around me. I reached for my drink, steadying it before it toppled over. I looked at Jack, whose face was slowly turning a shade of purple. His hand flexed, his knuckles whitening with each compression.

“Get out of my face, Jared,” he threatened, his jaw tight.

“Not so tough sober, eh Jack?”

Jack looked at me with pleading eyes, as if apologizing for what was to come. Then he glared up at the unwelcome visitors crowding our table. “You’re just begging to get your ass kicked twice in one week, aren’t ya?”

“Get up!” Jared challenged.

“Can’t you see I’m on a date?” He gestured toward me.

Jared glanced in my direction. “Like she matters. Just one of many, isn’t that what you always say?”

Jack jumped out from behind the table and puffed out his chest. “Don’t talk about her like that. Don’t even fucking look at her. You hear me?” He took a step toward Jared, his fist clenched tightly at his side.

Jared noticed Jack’s intent and offered slyly, “Another time then.”

“I highly doubt that.” Jack seethed, the veins in his neck throbbing.

Jared leaned in close to my face before walking away. “At least you’re pretty. Come find me after he tosses you into the garbage with all the others. I promise to sleep with you more than once.”

My mouth opened to respond when Jared’s body was suddenly ripped out of view. Jack pummeled him against the floor with a loud thud. Jared tried to kick, but Jack was too quick, moving out of the way before he could make contact. Jared scrambled to get up, but Jack threw his fist into Jared’s jaw as the sound of bones crunching filled the air.

“I told you,” Jack said as he punched him again, “…not to talk to her.” Another hit and I gasped when Jared’s bright red blood splattered across the clean, white-tiled floor.

I shook my head, struggling to make sense of this crazy, unexpected scene. “Jack! Jack, stop!” I scooted out of the booth and pulled at the shirt stretched across his back, begging for his assault to end. Jack delivered another blow to the ribs and I threw my body onto his back, leaning as close to his ear as I could get without getting hit. “Jack, stop.”

His head snapped up. He glanced down at Jared, then lifted his head to look around at the gawking crowd and then back to me, his eyes sad. “I’m sorry, Kitten.”

It was the first time that name didn’t piss me off. I helped him to his feet, my body shaking with shock.

Our waitress, Sarah, hurried over, shaking her head. “You have to go, Jack. Just get your stuff and go.”

“Sarah, tell Carl I’m sorry about the mess.” Jack wiped his face, still red from anger, and now probably embarrassment as well. He scooped the quarters into their paper bag and tossed two twenties on the table before grabbing my hand and pulling me out the door.

When we reached the car, he opened the passenger door, lifted me in, and then walked over to the driver’s side, his head shaking the entire time. I watched his chest slowly rise and fall with each breath he took. “I’m sorry, Cassie. I shouldn’t have let him get to me.”

“What was that even about?” I asked, eyeing his bloody knuckles.

Jack settled into the driver’s seat and looked out his window, avoiding my gaze. “I slept with his girlfriend.”

My heart throbbed as his admission caused an ache of disappointment to spread throughout my chest. “Right when I think you might be halfway decent, you say something that fucks it all up.”

He gripped the steering wheel tightly and turned to me, his dark hair flopping forward. “I didn’t know.”

“Don’t bullshit me, Jack.”

“I’m not. I promise. She said she was single.”

I sank into my seat as the breath I unwittingly held escaped from between my lips. “Well, she sucks. That girl.”

He forced half a grin. “Yeah, she does.”

He started the engine and I felt the rumble violently vibrating my seat. I quickly buckled myself in and said a silent prayer that we wouldn’t die on the drive home.

We spent the drive back to my apartment in silence, the radio providing background noise as we each buried ourselves in our own private thoughts. I watched as the lights of the town streamed past in a neon blur, my mind replaying the events of the evening. Jack pulled his deathmobile in one of the spots marked Visitor in front of my building, and turned the ignition off, but didn’t make any effort to move. I reached for my door handle. “You know,” he said, “my dad’s an ass too.” His voice sliced through the warm evening air.

I allowed my hand to slide down the side of the door, releasing the grip I held. I turned my body to face him before I leaned back into the seat. “Tell me.”

He avoided my eyes, reluctant to continue. I wondered if he regretted starting to open up to me, but I wasn’t about to let him off the hook.

“Please?”

“He took off when Dean was three. He just left one morning for work and never came back. My mom was frantic looking for him. Called every hospital, police station, hotel, but he was nowhere. I remember her tearing through the phone book with such fear and desperation in her eyes. She flipped the pages and tried to dial the numbers, but her fingers were shaking so badly I had to do it for her.” He sighed sadly.

I wanted to reach out for him, but didn’t. Thinking that somehow my touch would stop his train of thought and I wouldn’t get to experience this side of him again, I kept my hands tucked between my legs and pressed my lips firmly together.

“I don’t really remember my dad. But when my mom left…”

I could no longer stay silent. “Your mom left you guys too?” My mouth fell open in shock as my heart literally ached for him.

“Yeah. I distinctly remember her saying that we were so bad, she couldn’t take it anymore. She said she couldn’t raise two bad boys on her own, so she had to go.”

“Holy shit. She said that? How old were you?” Each breath I took felt like it was being ripped from my lungs.

“I was eight. Dean was five.”

“Jack, I’m so sorry. I can’t even imagine.” I reached out my hand and settled it on his thigh.

He eyed it for a split second. “Fifty cents, Kitten.” I jerked my hand away, shaking my head.

“I was just joking, Cass. Listen, don’t say anything to anyone, okay? Not many people know that story and I’d like to keep it that way if possible.”

“Of course. It’s not my story to tell.” I smiled, hoping he believed me.

The moment I thought he was done revealing his past, he continued. “My mom walked out the door just as my grandparents were pulling into our driveway. I remember hearing yelling, car doors slamming, and tires screeching. And I’ll never forget the sound of Dean crying and screaming out for her.”

His eyes looked like he was a million miles away as I watched him relive his childhood nightmare. “The next thing I remember was my grandmother’s smiling face walking through our front door. She told us to run upstairs and pack our things so we could sleep over at her house. I think it was really hard on them, suddenly having two little boys around, but my grandparents never complained. Not once.” He scratched the back of his neck.

“Have you seen your mom since?”

“No.” His response was sharp.

“Haven’t heard from her or anything?” I asked, wondering what kind of mother could just up and leave her two boys and never come back.

“Not a word.”

I shook my head in disbelief. “I can’t imagine. So, how rotten of a kid were you,” I asked with a smile, not really meaning the question.

He reclined the driver’s side seat and focused his gaze on the night sky. “Pretty rotten. Dean wasn’t, though. I mean, he was, but he was just copying me. He stopped being bad the minute she left. I think he thought if he was the perfect son, it would bring her back. She’d come home if he was extra good all the time,” he said as he tilted his head toward me, “…or something.”

“What about you?”

“I was so angry. I thought it was all my fault that she left. So I figured if she was never coming back, what was the point in being good? I got into a lot of trouble.”

“Like what kind of trouble?”

He took a deep breath. “I got in a lot of fights.” He looked into my eyes and shrugged his shoulders. “Guess that hasn’t changed much.” His stomach moved in and out as he laughed bitterly and I found my eyes drawn there.

“He deserved it,” I whispered, reclining my seat as well.

“He did, right?”

I smiled.

“I got in a lot of fights. And I got in a lot of trouble with girls. I basically took on the philosophy in high school that if I could either hook up with a girl at every party, or beat someone up, then they wouldn’t talk about the fact that I had no parents. Fucking and fighting were the ultimate distraction.”

I frowned, my stomach churning slightly at his bold revelation.

“What?” He turned his head toward me, his eyes concerned.

“It’s just that you still sort of act like that, you know?”

“I know. Old habits are hard to break. Plus, I’m good at being bad and screwing things up. Just ask Dean.”

I wasn’t sure what to say. I honestly wasn’t sure how I felt. I’d never met anyone who had lost both of their parents except to death. I couldn’t imagine living with that knowledge, or feeling somewhat responsible for it happening.

“When did you start playing baseball?”

His eyes lit up. “My grandparents signed us up for every sport imaginable when we moved in. They thought it would help.” A slight chuckle escaped from his lips, his mouth curving upward. “I don’t remember, but my grandma said I would cry whenever the season ended.”

I laughed, imagining the scene in my mind. “That’s cute. You loved it even then.”

He released a breath. “Being on that pitcher’s mound, it’s the one thing I’m really good at. The one thing I haven’t fucked up. And when I’m on the field, everything else fades away. You know?” He turned to look at me, his eyes craving understanding.

I smiled and he continued. “It’s like my mind is clear when I’m out there. It’s not about my mom or my dad or the stupid shit I’ve done. It’s about me, the ball, and the batter. It’s the one place in the world where I feel like I’m in control. Like I have a say in what happens around me.”

I stopped my head from nodding in agreement once I realized that I was doing it. “I feel that way when I’m taking pictures. Anything that I’m not seeing through my lens fades away in the background. And I get to frame my picture any way I choose. I get to dictate how it looks. What’s in it. What isn’t. Behind that lens I have complete control in how things are seen.”

He smiled, his dimples indenting his cheeks. “You get it.”

“I like this side of you,” I said, genuinely meaning it.

He crossed his arms across his chest. “Don’t get used to it.”

I jerked back at his suddenly defensive tone. “Way to ruin a perfectly good moment with your craptitude.”

“Craptitude?” he mocked.

“Yeah. Your crappy attitude.” I pulled my seat upright and reached for the door handle again.

“ Fuck Shit . I’m sorry, Kitten. Don’t hate me. I just really suck at this.” His hand gripped my shoulder, pulling me back toward him.

“Suck at what?”

“This.” His finger wagged between my face and his.

“What? Having a serious conversation? I know, it’s really hard.” It was all I could do not to roll my eyes.

“I don’t really have serious conversations with girls,” he admitted reluctantly.

“That’s seriously pathetic, Jack.”

“If I haven’t conveyed to you by now that I have a hard time trusting people—” he started to explain before I cut him off.

“I know you do. And you have every right. But you have to start somewhere.” He breathed loudly and I finished, “Sooner or later you have to let people in.”

And by “people,” I really meant me.

Shit.

He leaned toward me and I could feel the warmth of his breath against my face. “I know,” he murmured, closing the small space between us even further.

He cupped my cheek in the palm of his hand and looked into my eyes. “I’m going to kiss you.” My heart hammered inside my chest as thoughts of stopping him raced through my mind.

“This doesn’t change anything,” I stammered, my defenses fading.

“It changes everything.” He sounded so sure of himself as his soft lips silenced my weak protest.

My eyes closed and I lost myself in the warmth of his kiss. His cinnamon-flavored tongue gently parted my lips as I allowed him to explore my mouth. He was gentle, the flicker of his tongue soft and slow, causing my heart to expand. His fingers tangled tenderly in the back of my hair, tugging lightly. I lifted my hand to the side of his face, my thumb tracing the lines of his cheek down to his chin before gripping the back of his neck and pulling him closer.

My mouth was frantic, all sense of composure lost somewhere in the taste of him. He pulled away, our mouths parting with one final, closed-mouth peck.

“It changes everything,” he repeated, still cupping my face in his hand.

“Prove it.”