The Game Changer

“I need to go.” I leaned toward Jack and planted a soft kiss on his cheek before turning to walk away.



He gripped my wrist from behind and yanked me around to face him. “Get over here,” he said roughly as he pulled my body effortlessly into his. Before I could situate my arms, his were wrapped around me, pulling me tight against his heaving chest.



Oh my God, he’s crying.



“I love you more than anything. You need to know that before you walk out that door.” The warmth of his breath fluttered against my skin. My eyes met his, and the tears that rolled down his cheeks caused my heart to shatter.



“I love you too.” My current dysfunction had nothing to do with my feelings for Jack. I loved him more than I ever thought possible. But sometimes love wasn’t enough, and in order to be with him forever, I needed to make sure I could handle whatever came my way.



“I’ll do anything to make you happy. Anything, Kitten. You just tell me what I need to do and I’ll do it. Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you. You want to file a lawsuit against Chrystle, I’ll start the paperwork tomorrow. You want me to quit baseball? I’ll stop playing.”



It pained me to hear his voice sounding this desperate, this needy. “That’s not what I want,” I choked out, my jagged heart beating out painfully piercing beats. “Right now I just need some space.”



He peeled his arms from my body, and I instantly craved their attention again, but refused to give in. “OK. Space,” he breathed out in response, his cheeks tearstained. “But not forever. I won’t let you quit on us. I know this is all my fault. One fucking mistake that never goes away. I’m so sorry about all of it.”



“I know you are,” I whispered. “I am too.”



I pulled my suitcase out the front door, leaving Jack behind.



I walked out of the elevator, noticing the gaggle of press still gathered outside our building. Seeing me, the cameras started flashing against the glass of the window as they fought over one another for the best shot. Matteo lunged through them on his way to reach me. Blocking me from view once again, he grabbed my suitcase while keeping a tight hold on my body.



Stepping outside, I was bombarded by the press shouting their questions.



“Where are you going, Cassie?”



“Did you and Jack split up?”



“Is he going back to Chrystle?”



“Why are you leaving?”



“Why are you crying?”



I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs for them to shut the hell up and mind their own business. They didn’t know anything about our relationship and their stupid assumptions drove me nuts. Matteo opened up the passenger door, and I shook my head, opting for the rear seat, which had privacy glass on the windows. I watched as some of the paparazzi scattered, and I assumed they were heading for their cars so they could follow me.



He opened the door for me and ushered me inside. “Are you OK?”



I wiped the tears from my cheeks. “I will be.”



“Are you and Jack alright?” he asked as he pulled the car onto Second Avenue.



Unsure of how much I wanted to confide in Matteo at the moment, I opted for the easy way out. “I’m not sure.”



Matteo checked the rearview mirror a few times before I asked, “Are they following us?”



“I don’t think so. I can usually tell if they’re around us because they drive like assholes, but I don’t see anyone.”



“Good.”



“Cassie?” His voice questioned and I simply looked in his direction. “You know I’m here if you need me.”



I forced a polite smile. “I know. Thank you.”



We drove the rest of the way in silence. My brain turned inside my skull, causing more confusion, questions, and pain. I closed my eyes as the sound of my cell phone beeping filtered into my ears.



I read the text message from Jack.



I love you. I wish there were different words that I could say, but no one’s been clever enough to invent any yet. So it’s all I’ve got. But it’s everything. I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Please come home soon.



Half tempted to ask Matteo to turn the car around, I turned my phone off instead. Another text message like that, and I would go back. I’d never leave.



And I’d probably become a shell of a person who secretly resented everything her life had become. Because the problems and issues would still remain. I needed to fix this. I needed to fix me. Before I knew it, the car screeched to a stop in front of the airline terminal. I pushed out of the backseat with the help of Matteo’s outstretched, muscular hand.



“Come here,” he said, pulling me against his chiseled body.



God, he smells good.



“You’ll be OK.” He patted the length of my hair, his hands sliding down my back slowly. Matteo had never touched me like that before. I sensed deliberation in his movements, but did nothing to stop him.



Why aren’t I stopping him?



“I hate seeing you cry,” he whispered in my ear, before wiping my cheek with his thumb.



Pull away, Cass.



I didn’t move. Nerves surged through my body like waves in the ocean. Forceful and without remorse, they ebbed and flowed from my head to my toes. My knees started to shake as my heart rate quickened.



Pull aw—



Before I could process another thought, Matteo’s soft lips pressed against mine. I tensed quickly at first, shock and disbelief sprinting through my head. I squeezed my eyes shut, allowing the difference in his kiss and his touch to overwhelm my senses. His mouth opened and his tongue pushed up against my lips, begging for entry.



Instantly, my eyes shot open as I pushed away from his Adonis body. I wiped his taste from my lips with the back of my hand before covering my mouth from view. My mind raced to piece together what the hell had just happened and why I’d allowed it.



Fuck, what if someone saw that?



I quickly scanned the area, noting the absence of prying eyes and cameras. I couldn’t be certain there wasn’t someone hiding, but it looked all clear.



Thank the stars.



“Oh God, Cassie. I’m so sorry.” His eyes widened as a look of horror crossed his face. “It broke my fucking heart to see you crying. You’re too beautiful to cry like that. I just wanted to take your tears away and make you happy.”



I processed his words.



I think.



What is he saying exactly?



I refused to move for what seemed like an eternity, but I’m sure it was only a few seconds. “Um,” I stuttered, “I… I have to go.”



I reached into the open trunk of the car, pulling at my suitcase. “Cassie. Look at me,” Matteo said forcefully. I released my grip on my suitcase, turning to face him. “Please don’t tell Jack. I’m so sorry. I never should have done that.”



“Then why did you?” I yelled as embarrassment and anger all competed for the gold medal in my emotional Olympics.



His long, tanned fingers gripped the edge of his jacket. “Oh, come on. Don’t make me say it out loud.”



“Say what out loud? What the hell are you taking about?” I didn’t have time for this. Not tonight. I was already coming apart at the seams; I couldn’t take any more shit from anyone.



Here, Matteo, pull this frayed piece of fabric and watch me fall into particles of skin, clothing, and hair in a big heap on the ground.



“I like you. I didn’t mean to and I know we can never be together, but fuck!” He started pacing.



“What do you mean, you like me?” I shouted at his back. “You don’t fucking like me. We’re friends. That’s all we’ve ever been. That’s all we’ll ever be,” I insisted.



His jaw worked under his fingertips as he continued to pace. “I know. Like I said, I fucked up. I didn’t mean to go and fall in love with you—”



I interrupted, refusing to hear another word. “You are not in love with me! Do you hear me?” I inched closer to his body, my anger rising. “Say it!”



He stopped pacing and shook his head. “Say what?”



“Say you’re not in love with me! You just think you are because we spend so much time together, and you’re supposed to protect me. But you’re not in love with me. Not really. So I want you to fucking say it.” I jabbed my finger into his rock-hard chest repeatedly.



He shrugged his shoulders, no words leaving his lips. I jabbed at him again. “Say it!” And then I lost it. I started crying out of pure frustration. “Say it, damn it!” I insisted, stomping my foot on the concrete.



He took a step toward me, and I firmly placed my hand against his stomach, stopping him cold. “Do you feel something for me? Anything at all?” his voice pleaded.



I wanted to kick him in the nuts right then and there and tell him that pure hatred raced through my veins for him. And well, that was something. But it would have been a lie. “Matteo, I do not feel anything for you other than friendship. I love Jack. I’ve always loved Jack.”



“So you’re not attracted to me? This is purely a one-way street?” His lips formed a snarl, and I fought down the urge to sock him in the jaw. He’d pushed all the wrong buttons tonight.



“I’d have to be dead to not be attracted to you!”



“I knew it!” he shouted, pleased at my apparent revelation.



“But it’s not the kind of attraction that means anything!” I yelled back, my frustration boiling over so hot and thick I thought my skin might blister.



He shoved a hand through his hair in frustration before leaning toward me. “What the fuck does that even mean?”



“It just means that yes, I think you’re hot. But so does anyone with eyes! You’re a good-looking guy. Of course I’m attracted to you,” I explained, intentionally lowering my voice before continuing. “But I don’t want to be with you. I don’t want to leave Jack for you. It’s not the kind of attraction that makes me question anything in my life, if that’s what you’re asking.”



His gaze dropped to the ground, looking like all the wind had just been sucked from his sails. “Oh.”



Guilt seeped into my bones, making itself at home. Scenes of our time spent together ran through my mind like a sports highlights reel. Had I given him the wrong impression? Did I lead him on? Did I make Matteo think there was something between us?



“Look, I’m sorry if I’ve ever given you some impression that I wanted more from you. I don’t. And I don’t say that to hurt you, but I’m in love with Jack. I want that to be very clear.”



“You didn’t.” He paused, exhaling a breath so large his chest caved inward. “You didn’t lead me on. It’s just that I don’t really spend any time with anyone other than you.”



“That’s what I’m trying to tell you. You don’t love me, Matteo. I promise you that you don’t. You just think you do because we’re always together. Maybe we should look into hiring another driver when I get back into town?”



The idea of a new driver filled me with a sliver of relief. The lines of our relationship had blurred so often that I suddenly appeared blinded by it. Matteo worked for us, but the friendship we formed often took precedence. Lines needed to be clear again—business first, friendship second. But how would I ever explain that to Jack without him suspecting something?