by Sterling, J.
“I will. No more texts or picture messages, OK? I promise. You’ll feel a million times better once you stop reading the things they’re posting.”
“I can do that,” I said, obviously trying to convince us both.
“I know it’s hard to stay away, but trust me, you’ll be better off.”
“Thanks, Meli.” My phone beeped and I pulled it from my face, staring at the screen. “Hey, I have to go. Jack’s calling on the other line.”
“Alright. Talk to you later. Love you!” she shouted before I clicked over.
“Hi, babe,” I answered.
“Kitten.” His voice purred into my ear. “I miss you.”
I released a breath. “I miss you too. How was the game today?”
“Eh, we lost. They outhit us.”
“Sorry, babe.”
“It’s alright. I’ll be home soon, and I have a surprise for you,” he teased through the phone.
I smiled, tucking my feet underneath one of the pillows on the couch. “What kind of surprise?”
He laughed. “I got in touch with my buddy Jake. I saw that he had a concert coming up at Madison Square Garden. So I reached out to him for some tickets.”
“Jake who?” I asked, never hearing about this friend in a band before.
“Jake Wethers,” he answered.
“From The Mighty Storm?” I choked out before bolting upright.
Jack laughed again. “Yeah, you’ve heard of the band?”
“Shut up, Jack. Everyone’s heard of the band. How the hell do you know Jake Wethers?”
“We have some mutual friends back in LA, and we met a few times over the years. We just hit it off and stayed in touch. You’ll love him.”
“Holy shit, I already love him,” I said. “I can’t believe we’re going to a Mighty Storm concert! And I can’t believe you freaking know Jake!”
“So I did good?” he asked, his voice a mixture of sweet and cocky.
“Better than good. I can’t wait to see you.”
“You just remember that you love me and not Jake Wethers, got it? I love Jake but I’ll kick his ass if I have to.”
“It’s hard enough dating you. The last thing I need is to date a freaking rock star,” I moaned.
“Yeah, and Jake’s no picnic like I am,” he said, and the irony wasn’t lost on me.
“Oh, I’m sure. Because dating you has been a real walk in the park,” I joked, my insides still giddy with the knowledge that Jack and Jake were friends.
“I’m gonna go grab some food, Kitten. I love you. See you tomorrow.”
“Love you too,” I said, before hanging up my phone and collapsing back onto the couch.
Jack walked through the front door with a wide grin on his face, and I practically knocked him over in my excitement. “God I missed you,” he breathed into my hair, tangling his fingers in it.
I kissed each of his dimples before pressing my mouth to his. “I missed you too,” I said, before sweeping my tongue across his bottom lip. He tasted like warm cinnamon, and I sucked his bottom lip into my mouth, nibbling gently.
Jack dropped his bag onto the floor with a loud thud and lifted me from the ground with one arm. He walked us into our bedroom and tossed me onto our new bed. “Get naked,” he demanded with an arched brow.
“You first,” I toyed, staring at him.
With a cocky grin, he shrugged and then pulled off his black T-shirt. I wanted to lick every inch of his tanned chest and abs. He unfastened his shorts and removed the rest of his clothes in one swift motion. I took in every delicious ounce of him, my eyes roaming from head to toe.
“Your turn,” he said, not moving from where he stood at the end of the bed.
I lifted off my white tank top before scooting out of my shorts and underwear. Then I unfastened my bra and dropped it to the side of the bed. Jack was on me, licking, nibbling, and kissing my body like a man starved for it.
“I need you,” he breathed against my skin before licking my neck.
I didn’t want the foreplay; he’d been gone for so long that I craved his touch. I pulled at his body, aching for him to enter. I didn’t want to wait a second longer without having him inside me. “Jack,” I breathed out, as he kissed my breasts and moaned against them. “Jack, get in. I want you. Now.”
His mouth moved up to mine, his tongue moving in and out of my mouth passionately. He was feverish, and I was desperate. “Say it again. Tell me you want me.”
He kissed my mouth harder as his body moved around mine. I tried to force him inside, but he resisted. My fingertips dug into his lower back as I attempted to guide him. “Say it.”
“I want you, Jack. I need you.”
“Where?” His hands grabbed at me all over. “Where do you want me?”
“Inside me. I want you inside me now,” I breathed and moaned in unison.
With one deep thrust, he pushed himself inside of me. I moaned, the pleasure mixing with pain. “Oh God. You’re so deep.”
He moved in and out, pushing deeper with each thrust until he could go no further. I wrapped my legs around his waist, taking him as deep as he could go. “I’m not going to last, Kitten.”
I tightened my grip, pushing my hips against him harder and faster as he grew inside of me. I maneuvered my body and Jack flipped us over so I was now on top. Taking him even deeper from this position, I cried out with pleasure. I looked down at Jack, his eyes locked on mine. “You feel so fucking good,” he groaned.
I leaned forward, thrusting my tongue into his mouth while working my hips up and down in a rushed pace. The feeling of him inside of me was unlike anything else, and I moaned as he pressed against the right spot. Bursts of feeling shot through my body as I screamed out with the pleasure he gave me. I worked my hips against his as he moaned, his hands gripping mine forcefully. He throbbed against my insides as he groaned in raspy breaths. Our movements slowed and he pulled me against his heaving chest.
“It’s nice to have you home,” I whispered against his chest.
He huffed. “It’s nice to be home.”
“I love you, Jack.” I loved Jack more than I’d ever loved anyone in my life, but dating him was hard. I wanted to tell him about all the Internet sites and the things they posted, but he had enough to concentrate on during the season. So I stuffed my unhappiness deep inside, hoping to God it would stay there.
He ran his fingers through my hair as he leaned up to plant a kiss on the top of my head. “I love you, Kitten.”
Not Cut Out For This
Cassie
I could rarely attend Jack’s afternoon home games because of work, so I was following a game online when my cell phone sang its Melissa ringtone. I reached for it, silencing it immediately. I answered it quietly, “What’s up, girl?”
“I know we said no more, but I have to tell you something.”
My chest tightened as I held my breath. “What?”
“Chrystle sold her story to a tabloid.”
My stomach dropped. “What story exactly?” I managed to ask through my shock.
“Oh, the one where you’re a home-wrecking whore who stole her husband after she lost their baby to a miscarriage.”
My head started to pound as the walls of the office spun around me. I clutched the phone tight against my cheek, willing the bile rising in my throat to subside.
“Cass, are you there?”
“I’m here.”
“There’s more.”
“More?” I choked out, wondering what more there could possibly be.
“There are pictures online of their wedding. And pictures of you. And the article is filled with lies. People are eating it up, Cass. Believing every word of that lying bitch’s story. The message boards online are blowing up calling you a home wrecker and the devil. It’s crazy!”
My body started to tremble with fury. I hated Chrystle so much for everything she’d done to come between me and Jack. And here I’d thought she was out of lives for good. “Why won�
�t she just go away?”
“’Cause she’s a money-hungry publicity whore. I’m going to fucking kill her. Straight up murder the bitch.”
I managed a chuckle through my rage-filled tears. “Me first.”
“Cassie, can I see you please?” Nora shouted across the bustling office floor.
“Meli, I have to go. My boss is calling me.” I tossed my phone into a drawer before my nervous legs walked me into Nora’s office. Her walls were covered with various magazine covers from over the years and pictures of Nora with celebrities and local politicians.
“Close the door and come sit,” she said, not looking up as I entered. I did as she requested, shaking as I collapsed into the overstuffed white leather chair. “Talk to me about this article that just came out.”
“What do you want to know?” I asked, my eyes instantly welling.
She leaned forward onto her elbows and looked directly at me. “How much of it is true?”
“I just found out about it, so I’m not quite sure what it says.”
“Was Jack married to this person?”
I nodded. “Yes.”
“And she got pregnant.” I could tell she assumed those parts of the story were accurate.
“No. She lied to him. She told him she was pregnant, but she never was. The minute Jack found out, he left her.”
“So he didn’t leave her for you?”
“He was with me first.” I suddenly wanted to defend what Jack and I had in the past, before Chrystle came along and fucked it all up. “We were together when he met her.”
“So he cheated on you?” she asked matter-of-factly.
“Yeah.”
“Did she know about you?” Nora eyed me, and I sensed that an idea was coursing through that brain of hers.
“She knew about me. She didn’t care. She said that she always wanted a baseball-playing husband, so that’s what she got.” Anger and embarrassment collided within me as I struggled to keep my emotions balanced.
“Do you want to address this article publicly? We could make a statement on your behalf, disputing all of this woman’s claims and accusations.” Nora folded her hands together and rested her chin on top. “Or we could run a counter article on you and Jack.”
I hadn’t even thought about defending myself. In the past months, I’d learned to keep quiet when it came to all the things people wrote about me. I was told standing up for myself would end up making me look worse, which I never understood, but I had to agree with because I didn’t know what else to do.
“If you fight back they’ll attack even harder,” Melissa’s mom had advised me at one point. “Don’t give them any more ammunition. People like that love getting a reaction out of you. So when they don’t get what they want, they eventually move on.” But they hadn’t moved on.
“Is that what you think I should do?” I asked Nora. “Make a statement? Won’t it make it worse?”
Her brow furrowed. “Possibly. Let me think on it for a couple days.”
“OK.”
“I worry about you. I don’t know how you put up with all of this crap. Being with this guy sure has its downfalls, doesn’t it? I hope he’s worth it.”
My lungs constricted as if all the air had been sucked out of the room. I wanted to choke, but couldn’t. I struggled to keep my composure as the tears spilled out. And just like that, I broke down. I couldn’t take it anymore. The bad press, the constant harassment, the online sites judging me every day. It had become too much weight to carry.
“Oh dear.” Nora pushed back from her desk and walked over to me. “I’m sorry. I just meant that it’s a lot to take.”
“I know. It’s not what you said; it’s how I feel,” I tried to explain through my sobs.
“Why don’t you take a few days off? Go clear your head. Hell, take a vacation or something. Get out of the city for a while.”
I wiped at my eyes and sniffled. “Maybe I’ll fly home. Are you sure that’s OK?”
“Absolutely. We’ll come up with a game plan when you get back.” She squeezed my shoulder before returning to her chair.
“Thank you, Nora.” I forced a smile before walking out of her office. I gathered my things, typed a quick out-of-office notification for my e-mail, and turned my computer off. I stopped at the lobby store, grabbing a copy of the tabloid as my legs wobbled. The wedding picture of Jack with Chrystle caused me sharp stabs of pain as I stared at it.
Mortified, I tucked the tabloid under my arm and walked outside. I couldn’t take the subway home, I’d never last surrounded by all those people, so I called the only person I could think of while I walked back into the lobby.
“Matteo, can you come get you from work and bring me home?” My voice was shaking as I practically begged.
“Of course. Are you OK, Cassie?”
“Yeah. I just need a ride home please.” He knew I was lying, but he didn’t press the issue.
“I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
Matteo arrived right on time, and I headed out of the lobby doors toward the car. He rushed out of the driver’s seat, concern written all over his face. He took me by the hand, opening the door for me and closing it softly. Once inside, I buckled myself in and waited for the inquisition that never came. If he had a million questions, he wasn’t asking any.
Matteo pulled the car up in front of my building as hordes of cameramen surrounded it. “Oh my God,” I said, the shock clearly written all over my face.
“Cassie, what’s going on?” Matteo asked.
The press realized it was me in the car, and it took less than two seconds for them to swarm the side I sat on, cameras flashing nonstop, practically blinding me, even in the daylight. “I got this,” Matteo said before exiting the car. I heard him demand they move as he opened my door and helped me out. I lowered my head upon exiting, refusing to make eye contact with anyone.
Reporters shouted questions while Matteo wrapped a protective arm around me and pushed through the crowd.
“Did you know she was pregnant?”
“Did Jack leave her for you?”
“Were you having an affair with Jack while he was still married?”
“Do you think stress made her lose the baby?”
“Leave her alone!” he shouted, trying to get me into my building.
Once inside the building, the doorman blocked the reporters while Matteo shielded me from view and pressed the button on the elevator. He stayed by my side until it opened. “Thank you,” I said through watery eyes.
“Are you going to be OK? Are you sure you want to be alone right now?” He held the elevator door open with his hand.
“You have to go get Jack soon, right? I’ll be fine until he gets home. But I might need you to drive me somewhere later. I’ll call you if I do,” I said, knowing I was being cryptic.
“Whatever you need, I’ll be there for you,” he reassured me.
“Thanks again.” I swallowed before allowing the doors to close and block everything but my own reflection from view.
In the security of our apartment, I collapsed onto our bed, tucking my knees into my chest. I allowed my tears to spill out onto my pillow. I couldn’t believe this was happening again. I’d never experienced someone so vindictive and cruel, and I hadn’t even read the damn article yet.
I flashed back to being at Fullton, when reports started coming in about Jack getting married and how I was portrayed as the woman left behind. I thought I’d never experience pain and humiliation like that again, but this was far worse. Now that Jack played in the major leagues, everything was amplified. Our lives weren’t simply a local story anymore; they were national news. And this Chrystle story garnered everyone’s attention.
My stomach twisted and turned as I tried to block it all out, but failed. My cell phone rang, causing me to jump as I looked at the number flashing on the screen. I didn’t recognize it, but answered it anyway. “Hello?”
“Is this Cassie Andrews?” a male voice asked on the
other end of the line.
I hesitated. “It is.”
“I wanted to ask you a few questions about the article today for our website, OK?”
“No, it’s not OK. How’d you get this number? Don’t call again.”
Horrified, I ended the call as quickly as I could. I guess I should have been surprised it took them this long to track me down, but I was completely losing it. I didn’t want the press to have my phone number. I hated it enough that they knew where we lived.
I closed my eyes after putting my phone on silent, falling into the comfort of sleep. The sound of the door slamming woke me.
“Cass? Cassie? Where are you?” Jack’s voice was frantic as the sound of his footsteps beat against the wood flooring. I stayed silent, knowing that he’d eventually find me in here.
“Kitten. Are you OK?” He curled next to me in the bed, holding my shaking body in his arms. All I wanted to do was run. Literally. “Talk to me, Cass.”
“Are they still downstairs? The press?” I avoided looking at him.
“Yeah. They’re fucking vultures.”
I pushed off the bed and walked into the kitchen. I opened the cupboard and pulled out a glass. Filling it with water, I gulped the entire thing down. “How did you hear about the article?”
“The team’s publicist saw it and alerted me. He’s putting out an official statement on my behalf.”
“What is your statement?” I asked, placing the glass down on the cold granite countertop.
“I don’t know.” He shrugged.
“What do you mean, you don’t know?” I started getting pissed, the heat rising in my belly.
“The team makes a statement, and I’m required to go along with it,” he told me, trying to make me feel better but failing miserably.
“What if you don’t agree with it? What if it’s a horrible, stupid statement? You’re just supposed to smile and nod your head?”
“That’s what happens, Kitten. They put out a statement that’s best for the team, and I’m supposed to agree with it. I have no say.”
