The Other Game: A Dean Carter Novel (The Perfect Game #4) (23 page)

BOOK: The Other Game: A Dean Carter Novel (The Perfect Game #4)
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“I told Melissa that I was thinking about asking this other girl out,” I said, glancing at him while I dried the plate in my hand.

Jack smiled. “What did she say? What’d she do? If I was a betting man, and I am, I’d bet that Funsize didn’t like that too much.”

“I don’t think she did, but she told me to ask her out. She told me I could do whatever I wanted.” When I shook my head in frustration, Jack burst out into laughter.

“Of course she did. Would you expect her to say anything else?”

I stopped drying and leaned against the counter. “Yeah. I expect her to tell me not to do it.”

His brow furrowed. “Not gonna happen, little brother. She’d never tell you to not date someone because then she’d have to own up to feeling something for you. And for whatever reason, she refuses to do that.”

“Why? Why won’t she just admit it?”

“I honestly have no fucking idea.”

That was helpful. Not.

• • •

Jack being home was awesome, except for the fact that I still had school and had to work at the agency almost every day. We got the news that Chrystle refused to sign the paperwork, and while I wasn’t surprised, Jack was flipping out.

In the meantime, I’d kept pushing him to talk to Cassie, to fill her in on what he was trying to do. Every time I brought it up, he flat-out refused and threatened my life if I gave her a heads-up in any way.

Jack was always putting me in these shitty positions when it came to her, and I was growing tired of it, tired of hurting Cassie when I knew it served no purpose. Jack never specifically said that I couldn’t tell Melissa, though, and so this time I partially filled her in on what was going on, but made her promise to keep it to herself. She was a bit of a hard sell as she huffed and puffed, but eventually agreed that she would stay quiet . . .
for now.

When an entire month had gone by and Chrystle still refused to sign the papers, I thought Jack might have a nervous breakdown or spontaneously combust. We talked constantly about how out of control he felt, and how by sitting in California doing nothing, he felt like he wasn’t moving his life forward in any way. He compared it to being on pause, where nothing happened; you just lived in this stagnant existence, not moving in any direction.

So I shouldn’t have been surprised when he brought this topic up during dinner one night.

“Hey, Dean. Question—how long is your winter break?” he asked, knowing that it was coming up soon.

I gave him an odd look. “We go back at the end of January, why? What’s up?”

“You wanna fly out to Alabama and help me move my stuff back here?”

“Of course I’ll go,” I said without hesitation. “When?”

“After Christmas, we’ll head out. I want to get out of that state as soon as possible,” he said, his voice filled with disgust.

Gran reached out and squeezed his arm. “Did she sign the papers yet, dear?”

He shook his head, focused on his plate. “She’s still fighting it. Says I can’t prove there was fraud involved.”

“So, wait.” I wiped at my mouth with a napkin before placing it back in my lap. “Are you saying that there’s nothing you can do to fight it?”

“I’m just saying that the burden of proof is on me. And how do I prove all that?”

“I’m worried, Jack. This is taking so long. The longer it takes, the more you have to lose,” Gran pointed out, clearly talking about Cassie.

Jack sighed. “I know exactly what I have to lose.”

“Then you gotta talk to her, man. You’re wasting time, and Cassie thinks you don’t care about her. She honestly thinks that you let her walk out of your life for good. She’s confused. She’s hurt. And you’re just letting her feel that way when you could stop it.”

Hopefully something I said would get through. He needed to reach out to her in some way, whether it was a text, an e-mail, or a voice mail at her office.

Jack shook his head. “I know you don’t understand, but I can’t tell Cassie that everything is going to be fine and that I want to be with her. Not when I can’t be with her yet. Do you get that? Chrystle is a psycho who isn’t letting me go, and Cassie would get sucked into it. She’d have to deal with Chrystle too. And I don’t want her to ever have to think about that person again.”

He gave me a pointed look. “You know how Chrystle is. Would you want Cassie to deal with that?”

When I shook my head, he said, “I don’t want to put Cassie through that. I just want to reach out to her when I don’t have a single piece of baggage holding me back from being with her forever.” Studying my face, he groaned. “Does that make any sense at all, or do I sound completely insane?”

Unfortunately, I couldn’t argue. “No. I get it. I totally get what you’re saying. I just wonder if there’s a balance there. Maybe I could tell Cassie not to give up on you? Something to give her hope.”

“No,” he said, his voice resolute. “As long as she’s not dating anyone, I don’t want you to say anything, Dean.”

I swallowed. “Well, this guy from work keeps asking her out.”

Jack’s face hardened. “Has she said yes?”

“No.”

“Then we still have time.”

I bit my tongue, wondering how much of it he was willing to gamble with when it came to Cassie.

Getting Lucky

“So did you ever ask out Miss I’m-So-Pretty-It-Hurts-To-Look-At-Me yet?” Melissa asked me at lunch, nodding her head in the direction of Serena, who was sitting with a group of her sorority sisters on the other side of the student union.

I ducked my head to hide my smile. “Not yet. Why? Jealous?”

Melissa scowled. “Why haven’t you? Asked her out, I mean.”

“I thought you didn’t care?” I asked before taking a bite of pizza.

“I don’t. I was just wondering.” She poked at her salad. “I just like to keep Cassie in the loop. She asks about your love life and stuff.”

This time I did smile. “Ah. Cool. I can tell Cassie myself, you know.”

We continued eating, and the silence stretched out uncomfortably between us.

A few minutes later, Melissa grabbed her tray and stood up. “I have to go. But I was wondering if you’d like to come over later?”

Although I was half-tempted to toy with her and tell her I was busy, I knew I’d better say yes before she changed her mind.

“Sure,” I said with a noncommittal shrug.

“Okay. Text you later.” She walked away, and I watched her as she went.

• • •

Later that night, I showed up at Melissa’s apartment with a cherry Slurpee in hand, trying to be charming. Apparently she had the same idea, because the smell of brownies hit me in the face when she opened the front door. We both laughed.

She reached for the Slurpee and took a quick sip. “Thank you so much for this.”

I bent down to give her a hug and her lips were suddenly on mine. Shaking off the surprise, I gripped her by the ass and lifted her, and she wrapped her legs around my waist.

We’re kissing. Holy shit!

Melissa’s mouth was hot and wet and sweet, and I couldn’t get enough. For a second, I wondered if I should walk us over to the couch or to her bedroom, but had no idea what to do, so I stayed put. As I stood in her entryway, holding her tightly by the ass, my hard-on stealing all of the blood from the rest of my body, I lost myself in that kiss, and hoped she was doing the same.

The damn buzzer from the oven sounded, pulling her attention—and mouth—away from me. She smirked as I set her back on her feet.

“I just wanted to do that,” she started to explain, and I hoped like hell she wouldn’t take it back. But then she said, “It doesn’t mean anything, though, so don’t read into it.”

I rolled my eyes. Being with this girl was like being in a car wreck. Whiplash was guaranteed.

I followed her into the kitchen and watched as she pulled the brownies from the oven and switched it off. When she’d set them aside to cool, I reached for her arm and pulled her body firmly against me.

“You don’t have to overthink everything all the time,” I said as I wrapped my arms around her. “I’m fine if you just want to kiss me. I don’t expect anything from you.”

Without giving her a chance to respond, I pressed my lips against hers, and she leaned into me, the curves of her body molding against mine. She let me continue to kiss her, but I didn’t push us any further, happy with what she chose to give me. And when I left her house that night, she kissed me good-bye, not the other way around.

I convinced myself that this was progress.

• • •

After my last final, I sent Melissa a text telling her to have a good winter break. She asked if I was still at school, and when I said yes, she told me to wait.

She walked up to me and gave me a hug. “I just wanted to say ’bye.” She smiled up at me and I actually considered kissing her in public, but figured she’d flip.

“Have a good break,” I said, hating that it would be over a month before I’d see her again.

“Do you have any plans?”

I nodded. “I’m going to go to Alabama with Jack to pack up his house.”

“When?”

“After Christmas.”

“Has she signed the damn papers yet?”

“No.”

She curled her lip up in a snarl. “I hate that girl so much.”

“Join the club.”

“Okay. Well.” She looked up at me with those big blue eyes and wrapped her arms around my neck. I pulled her close as she whispered. “I guess I’ll see you later.” Her lips met my cheek, and then she let go and disappeared into a group of passing students.

Christmas in Alabama

I tried to give Melissa space. Or maybe I simply wanted to give her a chance to miss me, so I let her take the lead when it came to our communications over the break. To my surprise, she either texted or called me every couple of days. I took it as progress.

“Who are you talking to?” Jack asked, punching me in the arm as he passed me on the couch.

“Melissa,” I told him with a smirk, then spoke into the phone. “Melis, hold on a sec.”

I covered my cell phone with my hand and lowered it toward my thigh so she couldn’t eavesdrop. “She wants to come with us.” When he looked at me like I was speaking French, I added, “To Alabama.”

“Why?” he asked, clearly confused.

“She said she’s bored at home without Cassie. And she wants to help. Personally, I think she just misses me.” I laughed as if I were joking, but the truth was I was hopeful.

He paused for only a second, and when the confusion left his face, he said, “She can come.”

“Really?” I was surprised, prepared to argue on her behalf.

“Yeah, I don’t care,” he said offhandedly.

“He said you could come,” I said excitedly into the phone.

Melissa let out a huff. “Of course he said I could come. Why wouldn’t he?”

“Just shut up and get over here,” I demanded.

“I kind of like it when you’re bossy,” she said, and I thought I could hear the smile in her voice. “I’ll come over tomorrow night.”

• • •

When we landed in Alabama, Jack’s house seemed different somehow. Maybe it was the lack of things—Chrystle’s crap—that no longer cluttered every surface.

“This place is really nice,” Melissa said, and Jack agreed before bringing in an empty suitcase from the garage.

After packing up the few items that Jack planned to bring back to California with him, we all sat in the kitchen, drinking beer.

“Can we go out tonight? Please? Somewhere fun?” Melissa begged, putting on the pout that always drove me crazy.

Jack smirked at her suggestion before glancing at me for approval. When I nodded, he said, “Sure. But there are only two bars in this town, and I was at one of them the night that ruined my life. I haven’t set foot in it since, and never want to again. Bad juju. So that only leaves the other one.”

“Yes!” Melissa jumped up and ran up the stairs. “I get to shower first!”

Once she was out of earshot, Jack turned to me. “What’s the latest with you two?”

“She likes to kiss me,” I said, smiling like a lovesick idiot. “A lot.”

He gave me a disgusted look. “Are you in junior high? What the fuck does that even mean?”

“It just means that anytime that girl will let me kiss her, I’m going to take it. I like her, all right. I just don’t think she really likes me.”

He punched me in the arm. “Kiss her better then, jackass.”

“I kiss her just fine, fuck you very much.”

“Obviously not,” he teased. “You want me to talk to her for you?”

I bristled. “Definitely not. The last thing I want is for you to talk to her.”

“Just tryin’ to help, little brother.”

He took another sip of his beer before pouring the rest of the bottle down the sink. The shower turned off, and I glanced up the stairs.

“Go up there, already. What you should have done was hopped in the shower with her,” he suggested with a laugh.

“You’re such a dick,” I shot back as I ran upstairs.

“But I’m right,” he shouted, and I flipped him off over my shoulder.

• • •

Later that night, the three of us sat around a tall bar table, drinking and laughing. Melissa pounded her fist against the tabletop before shouting over the loud country music, “Jack, I forgot to tell you that I sent Cassie the jar of quarters the other day!”

His eyes glazed over, and he looked lost for a moment. “Why?”

“She asked for it. And she made me promise to wrap it in a thousand layers of bubble wrap so it wouldn’t break.”

He raised his eyebrows, and a cocky grin appeared. He looked happy until he focused over my shoulder and his smile abruptly fell. A muscle tensed in his jaw, and I turned to see what he was staring at.

It was Chrystle.
Oh shit
.

“Oh, look who it is, Vanessa. My husband. And if it isn’t his delicious brother too. Vanessa, you remember Dean, don’t you? From the wedding?” She looked toward her friend, who shifted uncomfortably but didn’t respond. “Hi, Dean. How you doing, sweetie?”

I stared at Chrystle, wishing like hell she’d disappear into a puff of smoke, when I noticed Melissa’s hands balled into fists.

“Jesus, Jack, I guess it’s true what they say about beer goggles,” Melissa sniped, giving Chrystle the once-over with pure disgust in her eyes.

Chrystle’s jaw dropped slightly and her eyes widened as I fought back a laugh. “What did you say?”

“I said you’re as ugly on the outside as you are on the inside,” Melissa spat out, clearly not intimidated by anything or anyone.

“And just who the hell are you?” Chrystle pulled her shoulders back and tried to sound tough, but failed.

I noticed Vanessa fighting to hide a grin, and wondered what that was all about. Vanessa had been her maid of honor.

“None of your fucking business,” Melissa shot back before taking a sip from her glass.

“But it is my business. See, you’re sitting with my husband and my brother-in-law,” Chrystle said as she ran her fingertips down my arm.

I tensed before swatting her hand away. Damn, I felt violated.

“Oh, great.” Melissa rolled her eyes. “You touched her, Dean. She’s probably pregnant now.”

When Melissa’s meaning sank in, Jack burst out into knee-slapping laughter and I joined in.

“Why don’t you take your ugly skank ass away from our table so we can enjoy the rest of our night?” Melissa turned to look at my brother. “Seriously, Jack. How drunk were you to fuck that?”

I shook my head in amazement at Melissa’s lady balls, knowing that she was trying to be extra vicious to give Chrystle a dose of her own medicine, and I loved every second. That bitch deserved nothing less.

Chrystle’s face turned an unattractive shade of red and she scurried away from our table, almost tripping on an out-of-place chair. Vanessa shot us a look that almost looked embarrassed before she trailed behind her.

“Holy shit, Funsize. That was awesome.” Jack reached out to high-five Melissa from across the table.

“The easiest way to get under any girl’s skin is to call her ugly,” she said matter-of-factly. “Especially when she’s not.”

I nodded and smirked at her. “Good to know.”

“Don’t get any ideas, buster. You pull that shit with me and I’ll never speak to you again,” Melissa said with an extra dose of sass.

“Yes, ma’am,” I said in my best Southern accent.

As the three of us walked toward the bar’s exit a little later, Chrystle stepped in front of Jack and grabbed his arm.

He jerked his arm from her grasp as he said loudly, “Don’t fucking touch me, you crazy bitch.”

“I just want to talk to you, Jack.” She batted her eyelashes and tilted her head in a fake attempt to appear sweet.

Jack glared at her. “How about we talk after you sign the papers?”

Her mouth pursed in frustration. “I’m not signing those. You can’t prove anything, and you know it.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” he said.

Chrystle smirked and folded her arms over her chest. “You’re lying.”

“Just remember how many friends you have before I subpoena them all and make them testify against you. If you get them to lie on the stand, I’ll make sure they go to jail.”

She dropped her arms and her eyes grew huge. “You wouldn’t dare!”

“The fuck I wouldn’t.” He leaned in close to her face, making sure she understood just how serious he was, and how willing to do whatever it took to get her to go away.

“It won’t work anyway. I’ve covered all my bases, so to speak.” She grinned wickedly, and I wondered what made someone turn so vicious.

“Just sign the fucking papers, Chrystle.”

“No.”

“Why the hell not?”

“Because I refuse to make it easy for you to get rid of me.” She smirked again before looking at Melissa and me.

“Is this a fucking game to you?” Jack asked through clenched teeth, and I knew he was starting to lose it.

“I want to stay married, so I won’t sign anything if I can avoid it.”

I placed my hand on his shoulder to hold him back and remind him to keep his cool. “Avoid it?” I repeated to her. “You think you can avoid this?”

“Actually, yes, I do.” Her voice was dripping with confidence, and I couldn’t wait to see this bitch fall.

Jack threw his hands up in the air. “You’re just a bad person.”

“So are you!” she fired back.

“No. I’m an asshole. There’s a difference.”

Melissa stepped forward, her hands fisted, and I grabbed her shoulders to hold her back. My feisty little pixie looked ready to get herself into trouble, and the last thing I needed was to have to bail her out of jail tonight. She tried to wriggle away, but I tightened my grip.

“I’ll do whatever I have to do to be rid of you,” Jack said in a low, menacing voice in Chrystle’s face. “You hear me? Whatever I have to do.”

“Are you threatening me?” she asked, her voice deliberately raised to draw more attention to the scene she was creating.

“If I were threatening you, you’d know it. Sign the damn papers.”

Jack turned away and punched the door open as I followed behind, dragging Melissa out by her arms.

Once in the car and on the road, we all seemed to finally exhale. I rolled down my window partway and allowed the air to blow over me, needing a little cooling off.

“I can’t believe we saw her tonight,” Melissa said from the backseat. “She’s wretched, Jack. In every way.”

“She’s worse than I remember,” I said, nodding.

Jack glanced at us. “Do you guys get it now, why I can’t go see Cassie until she’s gone? I have to be rid of that woman completely before I knock on Cassie’s door.”

Being here now, seeing and hearing Chrystle the way we just had, it did make more sense to me. Jack wasn’t avoiding Cassie for no reason; he honestly believed he was protecting her. And after what happened tonight, I didn’t blame him one bit.

We walked into the nearly empty house and I reached for Melissa’s hand. “You okay? I thought you were going to kill Chrystle back there.”

“I wanted to. Once she started saying that shit to Jack, it’s good you held me back,” she snapped, her sass coming back in full force with the memory of earlier, and Jack and I both laughed.

“Honestly, I think I would have paid good money to see you hit her,” Jack said with a smile.

Melissa jerked her thumb toward the door. “We could always go back.”

I grabbed her and lifted her off the ground. “We’re not going anywhere, you feisty little thing.”

She tilted her head back to kiss me and without thinking, I kissed her back, no thought of where we were, or that Jack was standing right there.

“Jesus, it’s about time,” he blurted, and the moment stopped. Melissa abruptly pulled out of my arms.

“Shut up, Jack,” she said before heading upstairs.

“Thanks a lot,” I said, socking him in the arm.

“I didn’t know she’d stop!” He threw his hands up in surrender. “Sorry.”

I groaned in frustration before trudging upstairs to my own bed.

Alone.

• • •

The next morning, we all woke up to the sound of the doorbell ringing incessantly. I heard Jack head downstairs to answer it, so I rolled back over and buried my head in my pillow until he started yelling. At that I jumped out of bed and ran downstairs, convinced that Chrystle was here trying to pull something.

I reached him just as he closed the door, holding some paperwork in his hand. At the sight of it, I was actually happy for a moment, thinking that Chrystle had signed the annulment.

He glanced up at me after scanning the papers, completely annoyed, by the looks of it. “We’ve been served.”

“We’ve been
what
?”

“Chrystle filed a restraining order against all three of us, saying we threatened her life and she feared for her safety.”

Dumbfounded, I stared at him as the words sank in. “All
three
of us?” I asked, emphasizing the number.

“Yeah. Melissa too.”

“Better not tell her that, or she might give Chrystle something to fear.”

“Tell me what?” Melissa appeared at the top of the stairs wearing next to nothing.

“Nothing, Funsize. Go back to bed,” Jack told her, and I smacked his arm, enjoying the view.

“You’re not the boss of me, Jack. But I’m not ready to get up yet, so see ya later,” she said before trudging back to her room.

BOOK: The Other Game: A Dean Carter Novel (The Perfect Game #4)
4.14Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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