Perfect Game Read online

  "Funny, that's what I do best."

  I sit up and see Scott angrily toss a towel next to my bag before he yanks his shirt over his head. I should look away, but I haven't seen his body like this since our last night together in Panama and I can't stop staring at his broad shoulders, my gaze traveling down to where his swim trunks are resting precariously low on his hips. He takes a deep breath before releasing it slowly, the muscles in his shoulders tightening as he balls up his shirt and flings it aside. When he turns back around, his eyes find me immediately, a scowl appearing on his handsome face when he sees me sitting next to Jake.

  "Scott…what are you doing here?" I stutter, aware that this looks a lot worse than it is.

  "I couldn't sleep. So I thought I'd soak my aching muscles. I didn't think I'd find the Kings' clubhouse reporter surrounded by all the single guys on the team." Scott stares Jackson and Colt down as they roughhouse each other out the door.

  "So what? It's a free country," I retort, not liking any man, including Scott, thinking he has the right to tell me what to do. I get enough of that at home.

  "That it is," Jake concurs as Scott's face turns red.

  "Jake, are you gonna leave or am I gonna have to drag your ass outta here?" Scott asks, approaching the hot tub.

  "I'm not going anywhere, man, unless Carrie wants me to." Jake turns his head toward me. "Do you want me to leave, Carrie?"

  "No. Stay, Jake." I reply, sticking up for him.

  It's my way of thanking him for fending off Jackson and Colt earlier, and it's because Scott is acting like a dick.

  "Well, move over, 'cause I'm coming in," Scott says, sliding his body in next to mine.

  "I think I'm going to go back up to my room now." I quickly stand up, because he's itching to get into another pissing contest with Jake, and I've already been there and done that one too many times.

  "But I just got here," Scott groans, reaching for my leg.

  "Too bad. I came out here to relax before bed, not for you to get me all riled up so I can't sleep." I take one step out of the hot tub, but I can't go any farther when he wraps his long, sexy fingers around my ankle.

  He grins up at me, beads of water cascading down his chest, nestling themselves in the hard, chiseled curves of his abs. "I know I have the tendency to do that to you, but I thought you liked it."

  "Scott, let go of my ankle," I whine, trying to shake him off.

  "Dude, if she wants to go, let her go," Jake says, once again intervening on my behalf.

  "Maybe she's trying to get away from you, Jake," Scott snaps, slapping the water. "I know for a fact she likes having my hands all over her body."

  Really? Now, of all times, he decides to let Jake in on our relationship? We've successfully kept it a secret until now, and all of a sudden, he decides to spill the beans just because I came down here without him?

  I glower at Scott, yanking my foot out of his hand. "Is that right?"

  "Care Bear, I—" Scott looks up at me, his gray eyes worried, realizing he went too far.

  "You've said just about enough, Scott. Thanks for ruining what remained of my evening. Goodnight, Jake." I exit the hot tub, water dripping all around me.

  "'Night, Carrie," Jake replies sadly, the realization dawning that there must actually be some truth to Scott's bragging from the way I'm reacting.

  I turn and hurry away, furious at Scott for having shot his mouth off like that in front of Jake.

  Scott staggers to his feet, clutching the edge for support.

  "Stay where you are, Scott," I command, pointing my finger at him.

  "Like hell I will," he says, getting out.

  "You're not following me through the hotel like that, soaking wet," I scold him, hearing his footsteps sloshing along behind me.

  "Don't say things like that when you're standing there in nothing but a bikini." He dodges in front of me, grabbing my towel before I can reach it. "You look good enough to eat."

  "Well, I feel exposed and uncomfortable, so can you please give me my towel?" I ask, crossing my arms in front of my chest, feeling like this stupid bikini must shrink when it gets wet because it feels about two sizes smaller than it did when I first put it on.

  Scott wraps the towel around me, snuggling me in his arms. "There. Is that better?"

  "You shouldn't be holding me like this. Not in front of Jake."

  "I don't care. Let him see."

  "You just don't get it." I jerk away from his embrace. "I'm not some piece of ass. I'm a person, a human being, and if I want to hang out in the hot tub with some of the guys, I will. I don't need yet another man in my life telling me what I can and cannot do. My father and grandfather are capable enough of that."

  "Don't go to bed mad. C'mon," Scott calls out, his voice echoing off the tiled walls.

  "Kiss my ass!" I yell back at him.

  "Oh, how I'd like to." He gets the last word in before the door closes behind me.

  Shit. I was missing him so much. Then he turns up all sexy and shirtless and what do I do? I get into a fight with him and leave. I shouldn't have put myself in such a compromising position with the other guys, but he shouldn't have started with Jake, either. I don't like the feeling of him owning me like this, but I can't help it. My state of mind is so wrapped up in him—and I'm the girl who swore up and down on a stack of Bibles that I'd never get involved with another baseball player. He needs to see that this isn't a game where I'm pitting him against his teammates to secure his place in my bed.

  I don't think I can be happy without him—not anymore. Because whether he realizes it or not, Scott Harper is this close to winning my heart.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Carrie

  "We meet again, Jake." I smile, turning the mic in his direction for yet another post-game interview.

  "Yeah. It's funny how unpredictable this sport can be," Jake laughs, scratching the back of his head and glancing up at the roof of the dome.

  "You certainly have had a flair for the dramatic lately. This time, winning the game in the bottom of the tenth with a blast off the catwalk in right," I prompt, encouraging an enthusiastic response and doing my best to dispel any of the remaining awkwardness from last night.

  Jake stands up straight, clasping his hands behind his back. "Yeah, this one I knew was gone the moment I hit it."

  "So, did that make it extra…" But I stop midstream, quickly sidestepping out the way.

  "Ooooohhhh!" Jake moans when Scott overturns the bucket over his head and chunks of ice and gallons of green, sugary liquid wash over him.

  "I think Scott Harper is enjoying these Gatorade attacks a little too much," I say sympathetically, knocking a stray ice cube from his hair.

  "Nah, it's fine," Jake tells me, downplaying his discomfort, his cheeks reddening at my touch. "As long as we win, I'll do anything for the team."

  "I'll let you go so you can get cleaned up. Thanks for stopping by, Jake." I pat his arm before turning to the camera. "Back to you, Andy."

  But Jake hesitates, pulling his shirttail out of his pants and wringing it out. "Carrie, is your mic still on?"

  "Nope, we're clear. Why?" I glance at Jake, wondering what this is all about.

  "Because there's something I've been meaning to ask you."

  "Shoot," I encourage him, hoping he doesn't do what I think he's going to do.

  "There's gonna be a big party for Jilly Gillette while we're down here in Tampa, and I'd really like you to go with me." Jake peers into my eyes, hope radiating from his.

  "Oh, umm, I don't know, Jake." I look away, swallowing nervously.

  Wow. Scott basically blew our cover last night, and now, Jake decides to step up to the plate? Go figure. Jake must think I sent Scott packing when I stormed out in my bikini. God, he's not wasting any time, is he?

  "Carrie, you don't have to give me an answer right now. Take your time. Think it over." He goes to place his hands on my shoulders but stops himself just in time, remembering that he's covered in Gat
orade.

  "But I, umm…" I fidget with the mic in my hands.

  "Promise me you'll at least think about it," Jake says, his voice soft and tender.

  "Okay. I'll think about it," I blurt out, hating to say no to him, especially after what Scott pulled at the hot tub last night.

  Number fifteen needs to be taught a lesson for opening his big mouth. Let him see that he has to work for it. There's no way I'm going to let him take me for granted.

  "Great." Jake smiles down at me, his eyes coming alive.

  "But, Jake?" I glance up at him.

  "Yeah?" he asks, leaning in.

  "Go wash that stuff out of your hair before you have to get it cut any shorter."

  "What? Don't you like my new look?" he laughs, ruffling what remains of his thick, gorgeous hair after the last Gatorade bath Scott gave him when he was unable to wash it all out and had to schedule an emergency appointment with his barber.

  "Go!" I direct him toward the dugout with my mic.

  He chuckles, jogging down the steps and out of sight.

  "You shouldn't be doing that," Sammy says, stepping out from behind the camera.

  "What?"

  "Encouraging him."

  I give him an exasperated look. "Sammy, I don't mean to be rude, but butt out, okay?"

  "Harper's gonna go ballistic if you say yes."

  Sammy has some nerve to throw that in my face.

  "Well, he didn't ask me to Jilly's party, now did he?" I grumble.

  "But you're not supposed to be dating either of them. If John finds out—"

  I cut Sammy off, not in the mood to have him start lecturing me. "But he's not going to find out—because you're not going to tell him."

  "Carrie, you can get in big trouble for this, especially if you cause a war between Scott and Jake. The Kings' front office isn't going to like it," he says, trying to scare me off.

  "I'm not worried about the front office." I give him a smug, close-lipped smile.

  "Well, you should be," he warns, subtly referring to how the blonde before me lost her job.

  "I don't think so, Sammy," I fire back. "Trust me. I know a thing or two about dealing with them."

  Chapter Fourteen

  Scott

  "I asked her," Jake blurts out the second he reaches his locker.

  "What?" I whip around, my T-shirt half over my head.

  "I asked her to Jilly's party," he gloats.

  "And she turned your sorry ass down, right?" I pull my shirt over my stomach, itching for a fight.

  "Far from it. She said she'd think about it."

  "You're not bringing her to the party, Jake."

  "Yeah? Try and stop me," he replies angrily, stripping out of his wet uniform. "Even if you do ask her now, it's too late."

  "Why? Because you're trying to guilt trip her into being your date?" I snarl back.

  "She just needs to spend some time with me and get to know me better so she can see I'm the guy she's supposed to be with, not you." He sticks his chin out, confident he can win her over.

  I glare at him. "You're gonna be sorry you did this."

  "It's time for you to up your game, Harper. She's not gonna settle for being another notch in your bedpost when I'm offering her so much more." He swings his dick around, naked as a jaybird—something I've been known to do around the clubhouse on more than one occasion—while striding past me toward the showers.

  That's not Jake. What, now he thinks he can just cop my style?

  I don't think so.

  It's on, Woodchucker. It is so on.

  ***

  I storm out of the locker room and hit the parking lot, looking for Carrie. I'm the first one out of the clubhouse. There's nobody else around, and I spy her heading toward the bus.

  I march up to her, reaching for her hand, not even saying hello. "Are you going to Jilly's party with Jake?"

  She flips her honey-blond hair over her shoulder, a whiff of her mango-scented shampoo hitting me dead in the face. My crotch tightens in response, making me even more frustrated.

  "I haven't decided yet."

  "What kind of answer is that?" I growl.

  "An honest one," she says, unafraid to meet my gaze.

  "If you wanna go to this party so badly, then I'll be the one taking you," I state like it's a given.

  "Wow. That just made me go all weak in the knees," she responds sarcastically.

  "I'm serious. Go with me. Be my date."

  Her hazel eyes begin to soften.

  Until I utter, "Not his."

  She narrows her eyes at me before stomping her foot. "You had to go and ruin it by saying that, didn't you?"

  "What?" I ask, not understanding why she's so angry when I'm more than ready to go public with our relationship—at least, at a party with only my teammates. What the hell? I mean, Jake already knows. It's not long before they all do. It seems like she's the one who's not ready to be seen with me.

  "Scott, you're not asking me because you want to go with me. You just don't want me going with him."

  "Damn straight, I don't."

  "Then why don't you try asking me out for real when you outgrow being such a selfish prick?" She turns on her heel and climbs onto the bus, leaving me standing there with my mouth open.

  "Don't you dare go with him!" I call out.

  She turns around at the top of the steps, her eyes flashing. "Watch me."

  And I know I'm the biggest idiot in the universe for screwing this up. I'm practically pushing her into Jake's arms, making it happen.

  I don't know how to fight for a girl. I've never had to before.

  Maybe she's looking for that moment of reckoning, the one that'll provoke her into laying it all out in the open, and Jilly's party may be just the place to goad her into acknowledging her true feelings for me. I know she's sensitive about being labeled as another one of my selfie girls, but she needs to get over that. I want her to stop caring so much about what other people think and follow her heart.

  Bottom line, I don't want her to be embarrassed to be with me. I can't go back and change the past. What's done is done. I don't want to have to keep hiding how we feel about each other. I hate that she's still so unsure about us, and I need to make it right.

  She may need a little push to fall back into my arms again, but I know just the thing that'll bring her running to my side. Something that's sure to tug at her heartstrings and show everyone just how much she cares about me. She can't deny that she has feelings for me. I ignite her fuse, and now's the time to bring that passionate fire of hers to the surface.

  Because I know she's as hot for me as I am for her. The way her sweet nipples rose to greet me when we were arguing just now is proof enough. If she wants to play games, then let's play, because I don't intend to lose. I'm going to win her over once and for all, even if I have to suck it up and suffer a blow to my ego in order to do it.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Carrie

  "Hey, Alex. It's me. Got a minute?" I ask my sister, hitting the speaker button on my phone as I hold two dresses in front of me.

  Her voice greets me over the sound of New York traffic. "Yeah, but I'm walking down the street to my next class, so talk fast."

  "Listen¸ something came up for work last minute." I pause, not wanting to go into too many details. "Do you think you could send me something nice to wear?" I pace in front of the full-length mirror in the hotel room, discarding my limited options onto the bed. "I need it by tomorrow night, and I don't think I'll have time to go shopping for anything new while the team's on the road, and I wouldn't even know where to begin, to be honest," I mutter, since finding clothes that fit right is always a constant battle for me, one my sister always helps me with.

  "Yeah, no problem. Text me the address of the hotel and I'll overnight something to you, okay?" she responds like it's no sweat when I've been hyperventilating, trying things on for the last half hour.

  "You're a lifesaver, Alex!" I exhale, feeling like I'm
finally able to breathe again.

  "Please. It's nothing," she insists. "Hold on. I have to stuff a few dollars in this guy's jar."

  "What? Did another cute street musician catch your eye?" I tease her. "Don't go jotting down your number and tossing it in there."

  "Carrie, c'mon. I haven't done that in ages," she giggles. "Besides, do you hear any music? It's not some guitar player. It's a poor, wounded vet." She turns serious. "I just came out of an aquatic therapy session and I feel like wheeling him right back to the pool with me and strengthening those leg muscles. God, they look so atrophied. But instead of receiving treatment from the professionals inside, he's out here holding up a sign about how physical therapists suck and begging for spare change. It's so not right, and it burns me up that there's nothing I can do about it."

  "I know," I soothe her, aware of what a tender heart she has. "But you don't know what his story is. Maybe he had a bad experience. Remember that soldier who flipped out last year at Kings Stadium?"

  "How could I not?" Alex responds, glumly. "I was at that game, and it was painful to watch."

  "Yeah, I remember you telling me about it," I reply, hugging my arms to my chest, getting the chills just thinking about it. "How he was just home from Afghanistan and the Kings were going to honor him as a part of their military tribute program during the seventh inning stretch, and he just lost it and wouldn't come out on the field. I heard my producer talking about it the other day. He had to cut to a commercial break because the guy started yelling and wouldn't leave the dugout. They didn't even get to announce his name."

  "Yeah, it's a great program and all, but after being in a war zone, the dude obviously wasn't ready for something like that. It was too much, too soon. He needed more time to decompress before facing a stadium full of people," Alex replies heatedly. "The noise, the crowd, the lights—no wonder he panicked. God, I felt so bad for him."

  "The K-TV crew said the Kings tried to hush it up," I relate, sighing deeply. "That they were embarrassed for traumatizing a veteran like that."

  "Figures," Alex groans. "God forbid anyone say a bad word against the Kings, especially you."