Subject Change

Cassie

Reliving it all, when it wasn’t that far in the past to begin with, was beyond overwhelming. I had no idea all the things Jack had gone through during our time apart. Parts of it broke my heart and other parts downright pissed me off. I was half tempted to tell him to stop. That I didn’t want to hear any more. That I’d heard enough. What could there possibly still be left to say?

But my mind—my ever-loving, godforsaken, pain-in-the-ass mind—wouldn’t let it go. My mind would be the biggest monkey wrench in our getting back on track. I didn’t want to be stupid. I’d already accepted Jack’s apology and welcomed him into my home with open arms, but going forward, I didn’t want to be dumb ever again. There would be no next time if he fucked up. There would be no more chances. A girl can only take so much.

“Another break,” I suggested, and knew immediately what crossed Jack’s mind when I saw the knowing look on his face. “Not that kind of break.”

“Why not?” He licked his lips and my jaw dropped open.

“A change-of-subject break.”

“And change-of-location break?” He nodded his head toward the direction of the bedroom.

I narrowed my eyes, barely able to see him through the tiny slits. “Fine. But only talking first.”

Jack laughed. “Talking first. Sex after.”

“Jack!” I howled, my cheeks flushing.

“Come on, I can barely move anyway, I’m so full. New York pizza is fucking good.”

“I know, right?” I said. New York pizza was unlike anything we had in California. Don’t get me wrong, we had plenty of “New York style” pizza places back home, but they were nothing like this. This had become, hands down, my most favorite style of pizza. Ever. “They say it’s the water.”

“They say what? What water?” Jack asked as he put the dirty dishes into the sink.

“The pizza. They say it’s so good here because of the water. It does something to the dough. I don’t know if that’s true, but I totally buy it.” Every time I shared a tidbit of information I’d learned about New York since living here, an excited chill coursed down my spine. I loved being the person teaching Jack all this stuff.

“Sounds good to me.” He grabbed a towel and dried off his hands before turning to me. “Shall we?”

“If you insist,” I said.

“Oh, I insist alright.”

I walked into the bedroom and began stripping down, when Jack blurted out, “I thought you said we weren’t—”

“I’m just getting into my pajamas!” I interrupted. “I hate lying in bed in jeans.”

“Damn.”

“I thought you were full?”

He licked his lips. “I am, but there’s always room for K-I-T-E-N.” He sang the word like the Jell-O jingle, and I laughed.

“You forgot a T,” I teased.

“It wouldn’t fit. You try to sing it with two t’s.” He patted the top of the bed before leaning his head against a pillow as the Jell-O jingle played in my head. “Get over here.”

I slipped into a pair of boy shorts and a tank top before literally jumping onto the bed. When I snuggled my head against the crook of his shoulder and wrapped my arm around him, he sighed with contentment and pulled a blanket over us.

“So, what’s our subject change?” he asked.

“Your new baseball team.” I smiled against his shirt.

“What about it?” His chest rose and fell against my cheek.

“Tell me about it. How does it work in the big leagues? What do you have to do?”

“I have to report to the field on Monday morning. I need to be there by eight so I can fill out some paperwork. And I’ll spend the day there until the game.”

“But the game’s at night, right?”

“Uh-huh.”

“You’ll be there all day long?”

“Yeah, well, I need to get checked in, get my locker, make sure my uniform fits, meet the manager, work out, take infield, have batting practice, eat lunch, attend meetings—” He stopped abruptly before continuing, “and miss my Kitten.”

I laughed before sitting up to look at him. As much as I loved lying against his chiseled body, I enjoyed looking into those chocolate-brown eyes when we talked. Call me crazy.

“Should I come to the field after I get off work? Are you pitching? Do you want me there if you’re not pitching?” Working in the office Monday through Friday all but assured that I’d miss plenty of Jack’s games. While a part of me hated knowing how many I’d miss, other parts of me reveled in the dreams and goals I had for myself. I’d moved to New York to advance my career, not follow Jack around the country. Still, the idea of him traveling and playing in stadiums without me filled me with sadness.

I feel like a walking contradiction.

His eyebrows pulled together. “I have no idea if I’m pitching or not. But I want you there no matter what.” He reached for my hand, his thumb caressing my knuckles. “I always want you there, Kitten.”

My heart skipped with his touch, his words. “Then I’ll be there.” I smiled softly as he raised my hand to his lips. The truth surged through me in that moment. There was a rush that happened whenever I watched Jack play. Nothing compared to sitting in a stadium, no matter how big or small, and seeing Jack on top of that mound of dirt. It was magic.

“I’ll have a ticket for you at Will Call and you’ll get an ID card so you can go underground after the game.”

“An ID card?”

“It’s mostly for the away games. That way security knows you’re a player’s wife—” He stumbled before quickly recanting, “or girlfriend. So they know you’re with the team.”

All other feelings escaped in a rush as jealousy settled into my stomach. I wondered if Chrystle possessed one of the ID cards in question. As if reading my mind, Jack added, “She never had one.”

I exhaled and inhaled quickly. “I know it’s stupid to think about stuff like that, but I can’t help it.”

Jack quickly shook his head. “It’s not stupid. Those thoughts are in your head because I put them there.” He leaned his mouth next to my ear, his breath warm and enticing. “I won’t mess us up again. I promise.” He nibbled on my earlobe before he pulled away.

I closed my eyes, drinking in his vow. Part of me cringed, acknowledging the vulnerability that coursed within me. I needed to be strong, but the reality was that Jack would be away a lot and I wouldn’t be able to go with him. As much as I wanted to believe that his mistake with Chrystle was a one-time major screwup, I’d be lying to myself if I said I wasn’t fearful.

I was.

And I wasn’t sure I’d ever not be.

“Do you believe me?” he asked, his brow furrowed with worry.

I fought back the tears that formed in my eyes. “I want to.” What I wanted to do was bottle my anxiety up and put it on a shelf where it could only come out in small doses, but I didn’t know how. Right now it lived on the outside of my skin, like an extra layer I couldn’t shed no matter what. My emotions had taken full control over every other part of me. I’d become victim to my own insecurities.

“I’ll show you.” His forehead pressed against mine as he continued. “I’ll never lose you again.”

“What if I want to be lost?” I teased with a half-serious tone and watched as he pulled his head from mine.

“I won’t let you.”

“You won’t let me?” I mocked, secretly loving the way he wanted me.

Jesus, Cassie, you’re a fucking nutcase right now. Pick an emotion. Pretend like you’re in charge here.

“No. I won’t let you. End of discussion.” His mouth remained stoic.

“That wasn’t really what one would consider a discussion.”

“Because there’s nothing to discuss. I’m not leaving you ever again. And you’re not leaving me. No matter how pissed off I make you, or how frustrated. I fucking love you, and I’m not going anywhere.”

I attempted to fight back the smile that formed. “And I love you. But really, if you ever cheat on me again, I’ll cut your nuts off and hang them from the Empire State Building.”

Date: 2015-02-28; view: 960