The Perfect Game (The Perfect Game #1) - Page 38/42

“It’s done and I drove straight here.” I reached her and grabbed her shoulders with both hands, as if my touch alone would stop her. “So it’s true? You’re really leaving?”

“It’s an incredible opportunity, Jack,” she responded, her voice cold.

“But you’re not even finished with school yet.” I could hear a little whine in my own voice, but hell, I was desperate.

“You weren’t either when you left to pursue your dreams. If it doesn’t work out, I’ll come back and finish. But I don’t have to get my bachelor’s degree to do what I want to do.” Cassie looked so resolute, her arms crossed over her chest.

“Don’t go.”

“What?”

“Don’t go, Kitten. Don’t move across the country,” I pleaded, this scene all too familiar in my head. “I know things are different and maybe I fucked them up so badly that they’re beyond repair. But I want to try. I need to try. I can’t let you walk out of my life without knowing that I did everything in my power to keep you in it.”

“What are you saying, Jack?” Her eyes welled up as she blinked back tears.

“I’m saying that I love you. Nothing in my life is right if you’re not with me. You’re a part of me. And I can’t let that part go. I want to be with you. I know I messed up, and I know you don’t trust me, but I’ll prove to you that you can. I promise I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if you’ll let me.”

I held my breath as I waited for her to respond.

Her brows drew together as she looked away from me. “I can’t stay here , Jack . I already accepted the job. And I want to go.”

“Then say we’ll work it out. Say we’re back together while we figure things out,” I begged, willing to say anything to not lose her again.

“Long distance doesn’t really work for us,” she admitted, and I cringed.

“It will be different this time. I’ve learned my lesson. I know what’s at stake. I know how much I have to lose. I promise you I’ll never fuck up again.” I reached for her hands, squeezing them as I pleaded. “I know my promises mean nothing to you right now, but I’ll make them mean something again. I’ll give the words meaning.”

I caressed her hands with mine, not wanting to let go.

“Prove it,” she said with a shrug, before sliding She slid into the cab and , locked the door and rolled down the window. “Prove it.” locking the door.

My heart thumped as it battered against my chest. The cab sped away and Cassie’s image in the rear window faded from view.

TWENTY-TWO

CASSIE

I’d spent the last four months falling in love with New York City. I hadn’t heard from Jack at all since the night I left, which not only surprised me, but broke my heart all over again. No matter how many times Dean tried to assure me that Jack was still in love with me and to give him time, his silence proved otherwise to my doubtful heart.

I wasn’t sure what I’d hoped for, exactly. I guess a part of me wanted some sort of grand gesture. I wanted to walk outside one morning and find him waiting there for me, like he’d done that one time when I got out of class. And when I told him to “prove it” the night I left, I honestly thought he would. I just wanted something from Jack. Anything but silence. And when nothing came, I tried my best to move on.

I shuffled out of the jam-packed subway car and moved along with the crowd up the stairs and into the chilled air outdoors. I was still awestruck daily by the sights and the sounds of New York and constantly forced myself to keep walking, when I was dying to drop to my knee to shoot the scenes around me.

The building I worked in was thirty stories tall with rectangular windows spaced three feet apart in all directions. I opened the oversized gold door before shaking off the chill.

“Morning, Craig.” I squeezed the shoulder of our salt-and-pepper-haired security guard.

“Morning, Miss Andrews,” he said with a nod, before pressing the elevator button for me and holding the door open once it arrived.

“Thank you.” I smiled, repeating the same routine we acted out each morning.

I hopped in, pressing the button for the twenty-seventh floor before I heard, “Wait! Hold the doors!”

I threw my arm between the closing doors, forcing them to stop abruptly and stutter back apart. Joey, an adorable brown-haired, blue-eyed copy editor from Boston, hopped inside, his arms full of papers.

“Thanks! Oh…morning, Cassie.” He glanced over his shoulder at me, and I looked away, embarrassed. He’d asked me out a few times since I moved here, but the truth was, I wasn’t ready to date. After everything I’d been through with Jack, I wasn’t sure I’d ever be ready again.

“Morning, Joey. Can I help?” I asked, reaching for the papers that threatened to fall.

“Thank you.” Half his mouth twisted upward into a smirk. “So, what you’d do last night?” he asked with his cute Boston accent.

“Uh, I worked until a little after eight. Then I grabbed some amazing Italian food on the way home from this tiny café, and that’s about it.”

“Where do you live again?” He asks me this every time we talk. I haven’t figured out why, but he does.

“Lower East Side, not far from here.”

“What street?”

“Clinton,” I responded as the elevator announced our arrival.

The doors opened and the sounds of rushed voices filled the air. The floor was packed with wall-to-wall cubicles spilling over with the previous day’s work. Privacy was not something one could find in this office. I secretly loved the chaos and the constant rushing around.

“So, do you like it?” he asked, watching my eyes. “Living in the lower east?”

“Oh, I do. Most of my neighbors are young and super artsy so it’s kind of inspiring and annoying all at the same time.” I laughed as I followed him to his cubicle.

“We should grab dinner sometime.” I started to turn him down as he held up a hand in the air to stop me. “It doesn’t have to be a date. Just friends sharing a meal together. I don’t think you get out of your Clinton Street apartment enough.”

He smiled and I shook my head. “I don’t know.”

“Think it over. Just friends, no pressure.” He leaned in close and I could smell his cologne as he grabbed the papers from my arms. “Thanks.”

“I’ll see you later, Joey,” I answered, feeling a little flustered as I rushed across the hardwood floor.

“Think it over!” he shouted, although no one else seemed to notice in all the chaos.

I quickened my pace, my cheeks burning as I scurried past the wall-mounted antique mirror. I slid into my cubicle, pushing the button on my computer as the screen flickered to life. I scrolled past the spam that always seem to get through the e-mail filters and landed on Melissa’s name. She’d gotten into the habit of sending e-mails to my work address so that I would have something to read from her first thing in the morning. And in return, I had to write back, no matter what, so that she’d have something from me when she woke up.

Hooker,

Do you think your IT guy reads my e-mails? Because if I was an IT guy, I would totally read my e-mails. Maybe he would if he knew how hot I was. I should probably attach a picture. LOL

So, tell me more about this Joey kid. Is he hot? Where’s he from? What’s his deal? Are you gonna go out with him, or what? What is it with you and making guys beg? You’re really sort of a bitch, Cassie Andrews. JK, LOL, smiley face (say it super fast like this.) JKLOLSMILEYFACE

Ooooh, I think Dean has a crush on this really cute freshman, so make sure you give him shit the next time you talk to him, K? K. I’m not going to ask about “him” this time, so don’t freak out. But hey, if he does call or text or anything, I’d better be the first person to hear about it! Just sayin’! :)

I’d better go. I know this was like the most boring e-mail ever, but what can I say? Life is sorta boring without you. I miss you.

Melis <3

I hit the Reply button and watched as her message scrolled to the bottom half of the page.

Dork,

I’m pretty sure our IT guy (Hi Shawn!!!!!) is far too busy to sift through my e-mails and read them. But if you want to attach some super-hot photo of yourself, I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t be opposed. LOL

You’re crazy, just so you know. Joey is really cute, with an accent that kills me every time he talks. He’s from Boston and is “wicked” smart, as he would say. LOL He seems like he totally has his shit together, which is kind of intimidating, to be honest. He asked me out today, just as friends. I don’t know, I don’t want to lead him on…

Tell me about this girl Dean likes. Is she nice? She’s not in a sorority, is she? Make sure she isn’t a bitch, Meli. Dean’s too nice.

I’m pretty sure “he’s” done with me. Although to be honest, I have no idea why. If I ever hear from him again, which I highly doubt, you’ll be my first call.

I love you and miss you so much. Move in with me after you graduate. Just kidding. Not really. When are you coming to visit?

xoxox C.

Even talking about Jack in an e-mail forced my stomach to spin. I tortured myself constantly, thinking up scenarios as to why he stopped liking me. I’d pushed him too far this last time. I’m never happy. His words never mean enough. I’m always asking him to jump through hoops for me.

Ugh. I hated this feeling of self-blame and discontent.

The next two months flew by in a blur. The snow finally melted and spring filled the air with its warmer temperatures, its colors, and its smells as flowers bloomed and trees budded. The dull, colorless winter that was so often gray and dreary quickly gave way to full green trees, white flowers, and bright blue skies. In a word, New York in the spring is amazing.

“Hey, girl,” I answered after seeing Melissa’s name flash across my screen.

“How’s New York today?” she asked happily on the other end.

“So beautiful! Seriously, when are you coming to visit me?” I was so dying to show her the sights of the city.

“Soon, I think! Maybe over break, is the weather nice then?”

“I don’t know. Probably not, to be honest. I think that’s when everyone goes to Florida.”

“Wait, what? They go to Florida willingly?”

“Melissa!” I giggled. “It’s a quick flight and the weather is way better! It’s no different than everyone in So Cal heading to Hawaii.”

“Uh, yes it is. It’s H a w a i i and really, who goes to Florida on purpose?” Her voice sounded so exasperated, it made me smile. “So, have you heard from Jack?”

I should have known that was why she called. The Diamondbacks were coming into town, and she and Dean wouldn’t stop blowing up my phone.

“Nope.”

“Really?” she said, her voice laced with disappointment.

“Really. We have to stop talking about him, Melis. I mean, when will we stop talking about him?” I hated that we had to go over this again; it really didn’t help.