THANK YOU 1 page

Kindle Edition, License Notes

This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Amazon.com and purchase your own copy.Please do not participate or encourage the piracy of copyrighted materials.Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

First Edition: October 2012

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living ordead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

ISBN-13:978-1478225539

ISBN-10:147822553X

This book is also available in print.

Please visit the author’s website(www.j-sterling.com)

to find out whereit can be purchased.

ONE

“Cassie, are you almost ready?” my roommate, Melissa, yelled down the hall.

“Just give me one sec! I’m almost done,” I shouted.

I ran my fingers one last time through my stick-straight blonde hair, trying in vain to give it the appearance of volume or thickness. One final coat of mascara on my eyelashes and I’d be all set. The purple strappy top I was wearing really brought out the green in my eyes.

“Perfect,” I muttered to my reflection, admiring the way my low-cut jeans hugged the curves of my butt.

“If you’re so perfect, then let’s go!”

“Good God, woman. It’s not like we’re heading to the prom.” I walked out of the bedroom and down the hall toward my stressed-out best friend. “It’s just a party. There is no late at a frat party, you know?” I leaned into the door frame, determined not to hurry.

“All the good guys will be taken.” Melissa stuck her bottom lip out in the pout that she had perfected, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“This is a frat party, Meli. There are no good guys.”

“I hate you.” She frowned, twirling her shoulder-length wavy brown hair around her finger.

I smiled. “Good. Let’s go.”

I tossed my arm around my pint-sized friend and headed out the front door, locking it behind us. I’d known Melissa since high school. She moved here right after we graduated, while I was forced to attend community college. “You have to take the same courses the first two years anyway. It’s much cheaper,” my mom had insisted. So I stayed close to home, while Melissa’s parents happily paid for all her expenses at Fullton State.

After two years of general education, I applied to three universities in Southern California and was accepted at all of them. I knew immediately which one I wanted to transfer to. Not only was my best friend at Fullton, but it also had one of the best photo communications programs in the state, with an award-winning student magazine and newspaper. And since my major was photography, the choice was easy.

Melissa’s parents insisted on getting an apartment for us to share and refused to let my parents pay for any of it. We weren’t poor, but we didn’t have an overabundance of cash the way Meli’s parents did. They told my folks that college tuition was expensive enough without all the extras and then they paid our rent a year in advance, including the summer. I remember my dad promising to pay them back during one of the many pre-moving discussions, and my eyes met Melissa’s with an all-knowing glance that the repayment would never really come to fruition.

Her parents had always been overly generous when it came to me. But then again, they were privy to the many times my dad had promised me something and then not delivered. On more than one occasion, Melissa’s mom’s was the shoulder I cried on and whose ears I vented my disappointment and frustrations to. I intended to start paying them back as soon as I graduated and opened my own photography business.

The night air was warm on my exposed skin as we walked the five blocks toward the fraternity house. “That top looks fierce on you,” Melissa complimented me with a slight smile.

“It’s cute, right?” I smiled, looking down at the formfitting top hugging my curves and accentuating my tiny waist. “You look as hot as ever.” I winked before slapping her black-skirt-covered ass.

Melissa was truly beautiful. Her dark brown hair contrasted with the blue of her eyes, making it hard to look away from her at times. She honestly looked like she belonged on the cover of a magazine, with her stunning figure and flawless features. We were total opposites, what with my five-foot-eight-inch frame and disproportionate body shape. I used to joke and say that God put me together like a Mr. Potato Head toy. One piece for my butt, one for my waist, one for my boobs…all a mismatch of sizes.

But it worked on me.

And I worked it.

The sound of hip-hop music filled the air. “Ooooh, I love this song! Let’s dance!” I grabbed Melissa’s hand and dragged her along, jogging closer to the source of the music.

“You always want to dance.” Melissa rolled her eyes. I’d smack those perfect blue eyes right off her face if I didn’t love her so damn much.

“Well, I’m a good dancer. And this butt of mine—oh, you know what it does.” I started shaking my hips in the crowded driveway of the fraternity house.

“Oh, no. Please stop.”

I laughed and slowed down my booty-shaking when I noticed the number of eyes ogling me. I hated being gawked at. I know, I know. I’m a fucking hypocrite. I scanned the crowd before suddenly stopping on the most delicious pair of chocolate-brown eyes watching me. The fact that the eyes belonged to one of the hottest faces I’d ever seen was merely a bonus. He ran his fingers through his black hair before resting them against his tanned, scruffy face. He smiled lazily at me and I felt my stomach flip.

Stupid stomach.

“No. Tell me you are not looking at him, Cassie.” Melissa stepped in front of me, breaking the eye contact.

“Hey, move.” But every direction I craned my neck, she blocked me with her annoying face.

“No freaking way. Don’t you know who that is?” She threw her hand in front of my eyes before I swatted it away.

“Obviously not, or we’d be dating.” I hopped up to steal a peek over her head.

“Jack Carter doesn’t date. He sleeps with girls and all their friends.” Melissa’s mouth curled with disgust.

“So that’s the infamous Jack Carter, huh?” I was intrigued. This guy’s name was all over the school papers and online.

Melissa threw an arm over my shoulder. “The one and only.”

“Is he really as good as they say?” Jack would be eligible for the Major League Baseball draft after the season ended. Everyone said he’d get drafted within the first five rounds. And apparently that’s a pretty big deal.

“His ego certainly thinks so.”

“Typical.” If there’s one thing I know, it’s athletes. They’re all the same. Superstitious, cocky, insecure egomaniacs. Yes, I realize the words are contradictory, but most are somewhat normal guys. They just hide behind a hundred-foot-tall brick wall, built entirely on ego. Plus, they don’t know any better. They’ve been baseball players their whole lives; they don’t know how to be anything else.

“What is it with you and assholes, Cass? Jack Carter’s a world class jerk and you need to stay away from him.”

“Hey!” I stomped my foot and firmly placed my hand against my hip. “The question isn’t, ‘What is it with me and assholes.’ It’s more like, “What is it with most guys being assholes?’”

“Valid point. But still. You already know up front this guy’s a player, so why bother? You’ll only end up hurt.”

“Not if I hurt him first,” I mumbled under my breath.

“Trust me, you won’t. Jack Carter doesn’t get hurt by girls. Promise me you’ll stay away from him.” Melissa pinned me with a glare to let me know she was serious.

“I promise I’ll stay away from him.” I batted my eyelashes, my tone of voice insincere.

“Ugh! Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Melissa pushed her way through the crowd and I watched as Jack stopped her before she passed him. He reached an arm out for her and she moved it away, her foot tapping against the ground the way she always did when she was irritated. He turned to eye me and she matched his gaze before gesturing wildly and shaking her head no. A wide smile crossed his face as Melissa threw her arms up in the air before storming inside the front door.

Jack walked, no, make that sauntered, over to where I stood. His black cargo shorts and tight-fitting gray baseball t-shirt did a number on his body. The definition of his arm muscles rippled against the fabric, accentuating his well-defined shoulders on his six-foot frame as his arms swayed. He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes at me like I was some tiny, helpless creature who didn’t have a clue it was about to get eaten alive by the most beautiful, albeit dangerous, creature in the jungle.

I almost felt violated.

Dirty.

Like I needed a shower to scrub that look off my body.

It wasn’t until he got close enough that I could read the writing on his shirt. It said, “No Glove No Love” with a picture of a catcher’s mitt in the middle.

What a Pig. Yes, with a capital P.

Two can play this game.

Defenses up.

“So you’re Melissa’s roommate?” The words came out smooth like butter, his voice deep and sexy.

“You’re a genius,” I said, going for my most uninterested tone.

“Hey now, don’t be mean. I just wanted to meet you.” He looked me in the eyes with a focused, unbreakable stare. “You have beautiful eyes.”

“Nice shirt.” I gave him a disgusted once-over, trying to cover the fact that I wanted to laugh. It was clever, but I’d be dammed if I would admit that to a guy like him.

He looked down and smirked. “Ah, you like that? I think it’s a pretty responsible message I’m sending out, don’t you?”

I said nothing, questioning whether anything that came out of this guy’s mouth was genuine or not.

“What? Cat got your tongue? You don’t believe in safe sex?”

Was this guy for real? “What do you want?” My lips pursed together, making my tone harsher than I had intended.

“I told you, I wanted to meet you. I’m Jack Carter.” He reached out his hand and I looked at it, my arms firmly crossed against my stomach.

“I know who you are.” I pretended not to care. He was beautiful. And he was charming. And a man-whoring pig. God, what is wrong with me?

“So you’ve heard of me, huh, Kitten?”

My lips suddenly felt like they were filled with lead as they turned downward in disgust. “You did not just call me ‘Kitten.’ Do I look like a stripper to you?”

He looked me up and down and then did it again. “Well, now that you mention it.”

“You’re an asshole.” I pushed past him to walk away, but he grabbed me.

I tore my arm from his grip. “It costs fifty cents every time you touch me. Don’t do it again.”

“Oh, so you’re not a stripper, you’re a whore?”

“Oh, so you’re not only an asshole, you’re a piece of shit,” I responded as I stomped away.

“I like you,” he shouted at my back.

“So you’re dumb, too,” I tossed over my shoulder with a glare. “I’ll add it to the list of your many redeeming qualities.”

I heard him laugh before I entered the house to search for Melissa. I finally found her in the backyard, drinking something out of a red plastic cup and talking to a group of people I didn’t recognize. I appeared at her side before she realized I was there.

“Oh my God, Cass, what did he say to you?” She ushered me toward an empty clearing in the yard.

I grabbed a drink for myself off a nearby table and rolled my eyes. “Nothing. He’s a jackass.”

“I told you.” She smirked and shrugged her shoulders. “Well, he’s clearly gotten over you already. Look.”

She pointed toward an open window where Jack was attached at the lips to a scantily clad blonde. One of his hands gripped her backside, while the other pulled at the back of her head. I shook my head in disgust at his public display of man whoredom.

“And then what? He’ll just never talk to her again?” I asked, trying to figure him out.

Melissa turned to eye me, curiosity lurking behind those baby blues. “No. They’ll talk. I mean, unless she gets all pissed off at him for…being him. But he won’t ever hook up with her again. He never hooks up with the same girl twice.”

“And the girls…they know this?” I was shocked. Seriously, do these girls have no self-esteem?

“They know.”

“Pathetic.” I frowned and looked back at Jack just in time to see him leading the girl away by the hand, a smile plastered all over her perfect little face.

*****

And that was my first introduction to Jack Carter.

Jack fucking Carter.

The next big thing in the world of baseball. Word has it he throws somewhere between ninety-three and ninety-four miles per hour when he’s on the mound. That’s fast. Real fast. Especially for a lefty. And you can’t teach speed. You either have the ability to throw that fast or you don’t.

And apparently he had it.

On and off the baseball field.

*****

Two days later I walked into the student union, scanning the area between the bowling lanes and the bar for Melissa. Everyone on campus seemed to congregate there since it’s where the lone pizza restaurant was located. When it came to college and college students, pizza seemed to be on everyone’s diet menu.

She spotted me and waved her tanned arms frantically above her head. Melissa looked like a lunatic and it made me laugh out loud. I waved back, then grabbed a tray and bought my lunch before weaving my way through a crowd of other students toward her table.

“Kitten.”

The deep, sultry voice stopped me in my tracks as my smile faded. I turned toward the source of the voice with revulsion. “You know, I don’t even like cats.” I lifted one brow and fixed Jack with a fierce stare.

He fiddled with his baseball cap before putting it back on his head and tucking his dark hair underneath. I felt almost mesmerized as he ran his fingers absentmindedly across the white stitching of our school’s initials. I found myself noticing the way his dark blue shirt fit snugly against the muscles in his arms and shoulders. I hated how good-looking he was.

“Actually, I didn’t know. But I’m glad I do.” He smiled and I swear part of my heart melted right then and there at the sight of his dimples.

I totally suck.

I tried to walk toward Melissa, who eyed me with piqued curiosity, but he stood his stupid gorgeous body in my path. I quickly moved to the right, but he hopped to his left to block me. I took another step to the left and he quickly moved too.

“What do you want, Jack?” I said, the anger in my voice taking us both by surprise.

“Are you always this hostile?” His smile told me he was teasing, before forcing his dimples to reappear and my body to flush with heat.

“Only to guys like you.”

“So tell me, Kitten, what’s a guy like me?”

“Not worth my time.” I shoved my tray into his gut and when he let out an ooof, I scurried past him, trying not to spill my soda.

“You’ll come around,” he shouted.

“I wouldn’t hold your breath.”

I rushed to our table, throwing down my tray of food.

“Nice scene.” Melissa’s eyes were huge as she fought a grin.

“Huh?”

“Look around.” She waved an arm, gesturing toward the crowd.

I glanced around the bar and the other tables. All eyes were either on me or Jack. Great. The last thing I wanted was the entire school thinking I was Jack Carter’s latest conquest.

“Is he always that obnoxious?” I ripped the top off my raspberry yogurt.

“I don’t know, Cass. I’ve never seen him act that way before if that’s what you’re asking.”

“I don’t know what I’m asking.” Irritated and annoyed, I scanned the room for Jack’s face. He sat at a table surrounded by giddy girls, tossing their hair, pawing his muscles, and laughing obnoxiously at whatever he said. His eyes briefly met mine before I turned away, and I felt my heart beat a little faster.

“Jesus. How have I never noticed this spectacle before?” I wondered out loud.

Melissa chuckled. “I honestly don’t know. Happens every day.”

“Those girls have no shame. I’m almost embarrassed for them.”

“You know they all want to be the one he actually falls for.” Melissa sounded sympathetic as she removed the crust from her slice of cheese pizza.

“Good luck with that, ladies!” I gave the gawking girls a fake salute, then turned my attention to attacking my yogurt.

Curiosity got the best of me when I heard shouts and the sound of slapping high-fives. I looked back to Jack’s table to see a boy about Jack’s height and build sitting down next to him. “Who’s that?” I asked Melissa, nosy in spite of myself.

“The one who just sat down? That’s Dean…Jack’s little brother. He’s a freshman.”

“How the hell do you know that? You’re like a freaking college directory,” I teased.

“He’s in one of my classes.”

“Wait,” I said, putting one hand up in the air. “How do you have a class with a freshman?”

“I still have a couple of lower-level classes to take and he’s in one of them. He’s really sweet. Not like Jack at all,” Melissa added with a smile and a faraway look in her eyes.

“Oh my God, you like him!”

“I do not!” Melissa whispered defensively. “I barely even know him! I’m just saying he’s nothing like his brother, is all.”

“Okay, calm down. Jeez. It’s okay to like Jack Carter’s little brother.” I glanced back at Dean, admiring his smile, but noting the lack of dimples his brother wore so well. “He is cute.” I poked her shoulder.

“He is, right?” She eyed him from a distance.

“At least you like the good one.” I smiled, turning back to see the brothers throwing their arms around each other’s necks.

“As if I’d like the other one! Jack’s disgusting.” She pretended to stick a finger down her throat and made gagging noises.

“So you keep saying,” I said, taking another spoonful of yogurt.

“I swear to God, Cassie. If you end up falling for his shit, I don’t want to hear it. I’ve watched him the last two years before you got here. I’m telling you, he’s the ultimate playboy.” She silenced her rant with a quick chomp at her banana.

“I hear you. Okay? Steer clear of Jack Carter. It shouldn’t be that hard, considering I don’t want to go anywhere near him.”

We both smiled, momentarily satisfied with my promise.

TWO

The sun warmed my body the moment I stepped out of the three-story Communications & Arts Building. A gentle breeze swept across my face as I observed my fellow students. Some rushed to get to class, while others fought for sunny areas on the lawn. I smiled as I passed a long-haired kid playing the guitar. He played under the same tree every day, and I started to wonder if he was a student at all or if he just liked being on the large, sprawling campus.

I passed by the university bookstore and shops, making a mental note to pick up two scantrons for my upcoming tests. Herds of people milled in and out of the student union entrance as I walked in. My eyes immediately fell on Jack and his harem of fans. I couldn’t get over how I’d never noticed it before, but now it was all I saw. He flexed his muscles for a couple of girls who screamed when they grabbed on to his bicep. I heard him say, “Hold on,” as he lifted them into the air. I frowned with disgust as he demonstrated his pitching motion in slow speed, much to the delight of the squealing girls.

“He is such an attention whore.” I slammed my body down in the seat across from Melissa.

“Then stop paying attention to him.”

“It’s sort of hard not to when he’s always creating a spectacle.” I waved my arms toward the gaggle of girls following his every move.

“Hi, Melissa.” A deep voice interrupted my Jack-bashing.

“Oh…hi, Dean,” Melissa responded, her voice all soft and sweet. I shot a quick glance at her under my eyelashes, and smiled to myself.

“Would you mind if I sat with you?” Dean smiled when he asked and kept his hazel eyes locked on Melissa’s.

“No. We’re much better company than your brother’s table anyway,” she teased, poking him in the ribs.

He glanced in Jack’s direction, shaking his head. “It just gets old sometimes, you know?” He placed a slice of pizza on the table and sat down.

“Hi, I’m Dean.” He stretched his hand across the table.

“I’m Cassie. I’m Melissa’s roommate.” I grabbed his hand and squeezed.

“It’s nice to—”

“Dean! What are you doing over here?” Jack’s sultry voice echoed throughout the student union, and I felt my stomach lurch. I lifted my gaze to find him staring at me, so I pinched my lips together, hoping my annoyance would be loud and clear.

“Oh, Kitten. I see you’ve met my little brother.” Jack winked before placing his hand on Dean’s shoulder and squeezing.

“Thank God he seems nothing like you. I might actually be able to tolerate him.” I tilted my head and smiled sharply before taking a bite of my turkey sandwich. I noticed Melissa and Jack sharing an amused glance, and I wanted to kick Melissa under the table. The last time I did that it left an ugly bruise on her shin and she didn’t speak to me for days, so I restrained myself.

“You need me to work some of that aggression out of you?” Jack offered with a sexy smile.

My mouth was full, but I didn’t let that stop me. “I’d rather eat dirt.”

“I almost want to see that.” Jack chuckled and one dimple appeared on his cheek.

“You would. Go torture someone else,” I begged, nibbling at my sandwich before looking away.

“But I like torturing you.” He grinned and moved to sit next to me.

“Uh, no!” I shouted before throwing my bag right where he was about to plop his perfect little ass. He stopped short and stood back up.

“Why so angry, Kitten?”

“Why so annoying, jackass?” I mimicked his tone.

I had just taken a bite of my pickle when Jack’s warm breath in my ear stopped my chewing. “You’ll come around. You’ll see. You can’t resist me forever.”

I suddenly had the urge to spit my half-chewed food all over his arrogant face. The thought of doing it made me laugh, and I accidentally inhaled a little of what I was chewing. As I choked and struggled to swallow, he walked away smiling.

“Sorry about my brother. He isn’t really a jerk.” Dean smiled as he defended his brother, his head cocked to one side with sincerity.

I coughed to clear my throat and picked up a napkin. “He just plays one on TV?”

“Something like that. Don’t take him too seriously. He’s just having fun with you.”

I half smiled. “But I’m not having fun.”

“But you are. And he knows it,” Dean added, his expression a mixture of confidence and knowing.

I didn’t respond to Dean’s accusation, not wanting to prove him right…or wrong. I took a healthy bite of my sandwich when Jack walked back over to our table. Caught with a mouth full of food again, I couldn’t speak, so I simply narrowed my eyes and glared at him.

He shoved a napkin into my hand and walked away without saying a word. I started to unfold it before reading #23 on the field, #1 in your heart, followed by some numbers written in black ink. I quickly crumpled it up and threw it in my bag.

“What was that?” Melissa interrupted the thoughts swirling around in my head.

I swallowed. “His phone number, I think. I didn’t really look at it.”

“He gave you his number?” Dean’s face appeared puzzled.

“I think. Maybe I’m wrong. I’ll look at it later.” I was suddenly embarrassed at the assumption that Jack had given me his number, when maybe it wasn’t Jack’s number at all.

Melissa turned toward Dean. “What’s with the face?”

“He doesn’t give out his phone number. There’s no point with him.” Dean’s gaze darted from my face to Jack’s, turning his head to scrutinize his brother, now sitting several tables away.

“He has a cell phone, right?” Melissa asked, her head bobbing.

“Yeah…?” Dean responded, dragging out the word like a question.

“I’m just saying, caller ID!” She rolled her eyes.

“His number is private. It doesn’t show up.”

“Really? Who does that?” Melissa’s face crinkled.

“Someone who had to change his phone number fifteen times in high school because it never stopped ringing, or pinging with text messages.”

“Fifteen times?” I asked, far louder than I intended. I ducked my head as several people sitting nearby stared at me with curiosity.

“It might have been more, but it was insane. The girls would post his number online and then his voice mail would fill up within a day. And then they’d all start calling my phone looking for him when he didn’t answer.”

“Holy shit, that’s bananas!” Melissa laughed at the insanity.

“That’s why it’s weird that he’d give you his number. He doesn’t give anyone his number.” Dean shook his head.

“Well, like I said, I could be wrong,” I quickly recanted.

Melissa gestured toward my bag. “Then get it out and read it now.”

Heat spread throughout my cheeks and down my neck to my chest. “No. Not in the freaking student union while he’s right over there, thanks. Later.”

I rose from the table, grabbed my bag and my trash, and walked nonchalantly past Jack and his pack of groupies. I heard the sound of female voices whining when Jack pulled himself away to jog over and catch up with me.

“I expect you to call me, Kitten.”

“I’m sure you expect a lot of things,” I said rudely, refusing to look at him as his stride slowed and he let me walk away.

“Come to my game tonight!” he shouted when I opened the glass doors.

I turned toward him before walking out. “I don’t think so.”

“Don’t you want to see me pitch?” He raised an eyebrow, his voice cocky.

I tilted my head, holding the door open with one arm. “I saw you pitching earlier. In slow motion, remember? I think I got the gist.”

The glass door closed behind me with a loud bang and I walked to my next class, wondering how long I’d be able to resist him.

*****

I opened the door to our two-bedroom apartment, the smell of this morning’s bacon still lingering in the air. Mail and schoolwork were strewn across the top of our table, and I added my backpack to the mess.

Melissa sat watching TV on our L-shaped couch while eating a bowl full of cottage cheese and green grapes. I smiled at her odd food combination and headed straight into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and some chips from the cupboard.

I took a sip of the water, letting the cool moisture replenish my dehydrated body.

“So, we’re going to the baseball game tonight,” she informed me, and the water in my mouth sprayed out all over the carpet.

“Shit.” I laughed and grabbed a towel before bending down to soak up the mess. “You might be, but I’m staying here.”

“Cassie, the whole school goes to the baseball games. It’s like the state of Texas and high school football.” Her head tilted as I looked up from my carpet cleaning, my eyes clearly confused. “Friday Night Lights, hello? Ugh, don’t you watch any TV?”

I chuckled at her frustration with me as she continued. “Anyway, everyone goes. Especially when Jack’s pitching. It’s sort of a spectacle, really.”

“How so?” I asked, tossing the wet towel into the sink before leaning my shoulder against the wall.

She glanced up toward the ceiling and pursed her lips together. Then she looked back at me, draping her body over the side of the couch. “Well, a ton of scouts are there for starters. And reporters from all the local newspapers and TV stations. You just have to see it. Even if you only go to one game, Cassie, it has to be one when Jack’s pitching. Plus, you can take some really cool pictures for that Tuck magazine, or whatever it’s called.”

My eyebrows lifted at the thought of photographing the school’s new stadium and fans. “It’s called Trunk,” I corrected, referring to the university’s student-run magazine. “And someone is already assigned to the baseball team. But I do need to work on my night photography.” I pulled away from the wall and glanced at my camera bag, mulling the idea over.

“And you can work on your action shots too,” she added with a sly smirk.

I rolled my eyes. “Three hours ago you hated this guy, and now you’re like his biggest fan. What gives?”

“Excuse me!” Her voice was animated as she held up one finger. “Jack Carter the guy sucks and should be avoided at all costs. Jack Carter the baseball player is totally amazeballs and should be observed whenever possible. You see the difference?”

Date: 2015-01-29; view: 634