𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘵 » bryce harper [✓]

the pact | one.

Cassandra

A lot can happen in four years, and I am the evidence. Sitting on the couch in Bryce's apartment four years ago, everything seemed simpler. Yet the result of that conversation only yielded two major changes in my life: I got my degree in marketing from Penn State, and finally cut Mike out of my circle. My dream, the one thing I've always wanted to do ever since I was a kid, is write. Not books or poetry, but sports journalism.

The interest I held in the NBA and especially the MLB had cultivated long before Bryce entered the major leagues. I fondly remember sitting in the bleachers while my Dad coached Little League at my older brother's middle school. And that feeling's only gotten stronger since my best friend is one of the most well-known right fielders in the majors today.

Problem is, cracking into a male dominated industry is hard enough if you don't have any good connections. And if you're a black woman? Twice as hard. I didn't want to use Bryce as my crutch either. So four years later and I have a marketing degree, a yearning to be a sportswriter, and nothing to show for either endeavor.

At least the Nationals hadn't disappointed me so far. Clinching the division title and having home field advantage during the playoffs was cool enough to snap me out of my funk, even if it was for a little bit.

I got off work a little early—a temporary marketing job in retail—when Bryce called and asked if we could meet up for coffee. I was a little worn out, but he always brightened up my day, so I agreed.

Our usual spot was Peet's Coffee & Tea on Pennsylvania Avenue, not too far from Nats stadium or my job. When I got there it was practically empty, save for a family of four occupying a large table and an older gentleman reading a book with a small dog settled at his feet.

I spotted Bryce sitting toward the back, alone, clad in a black hoodie and sunglasses while nursing a mug of tea. It made me giggle because his attempts to be discreet rarely worked. People would recognize him from a mile away with that beard of his.

I ordered a cappuccino for myself and then pulled up a seat beside him. "Are you working undercover, or can I hug you in that getup?"

"Shut up." Bryce pushed his sunglasses to the top of his head, a playful glare on his face. He stood and wrapped his arms around me in a quick hug, the scent of his cologne dancing across my nostrils. He always smelled good, but I didn't dare tell him so. "You look nice."

I laughed. "Don't lie to me, bro. My clothes look frumpy and I'm tired as hell."

"While that may be, my statement still stands. Learn to take a compliment, babe." He sipped some tea and lifted his pinky in the air.

I rolled my eyes, cheeks growing warm at his words. Problem with not being in a steady relationship for years? Thinking that your best friend could possibly be into you. Now isn't that crazy?

After a long bout of silence his eyes met mine. "So, it's been a while since we last talked."

Two months, to be exact. "I know. I really missed you."

He half smiled, nudging my knee with his. "I missed you too, Cass. You coming to the game on Saturday?"

I gave him a look. "Where else would I be?"

"True. Just wondering." Bryce steepled his fingers, seeming to be deep in thought. As though he were debating on whether or not to divulge information. "Unfortunately I didn't invite you here just for small talk. I need to tell you something."

I hate when people lead off with that line. It always made me nervous and had me fearing the worst. "Okay, what is it?"

He ran his fingers through his hair. "It's sort of stupid. But I'm sure you've been hearing about my supposed dating life in the tabloids lately."

"Yeah, rumor has it you're dating Kendall Jenner." My tone dripped with annoyance, even though I didn't really believe they were an item.

"We only hung out once or twice over the weekend in LA." He explained. "There's nothing there. I just wanted to set the record straight with someone who knows me best, you feel me?"

I felt a small measure of relief. I didn't know why, except maybe that it gave the media even less credibility when it came to celebrities than ever before. "I feel you. You don't seem like her type, anyway."

"Yeah. I bet you would've loved for it to be true, so you could say I broke the pact."

I took a leisurely sip of coffee, smirking. "Let's hope you break it, huh? 'Cause I know you don't wanna marry me, not really."

When he didn't say anything, I glanced over at him. Was my mind playing tricks on me, or did I detect disappointment in his eyes? "Did I say something wrong?"

Bryce snapped to attention and the flash of a sullen expression that I'd seen quickly faded. "You're fine. Got my mind on the game. And that pact is still on, babe."

"Good." I pursed my lips and tried to bury my own thoughts. I needed to find a boyfriend before Bryce found a girlfriend. The quicker I beat him to the punch, the quicker I dispelled a scenario where we're married and living in a high rise condo in downtown DC.

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I'm shook, y'all, how is this book already at 117 reads?! You guys are amazing. I hope you enjoyed chapter one!