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“I mean, I could do without the attention.” I grip the back of my neck, hating the idea of women throwing themselves at me. That’s what changed my life. It sent everything spiraling and left me alone and depressed.
“Oh my gosh! Are you Cord Powell?” A woman stops on the street in front of me and stares at me with wide eyes. She’s beautiful with long blonde hair, dark brown eyes, and a little button nose.
“Yeah. How are you?” I smile the most genuine smile I can muster, but I know it’s not meeting my eyes.
“I’m great now.” She grins up at me. “I know you probably get a lot of attention from fans.”
“A little bit.” I shove my hands in my pockets, not really knowing what else to do.
I feel like a prepubescent boy getting flirted with for the first time by a pretty girl. I don’t know what to do or how to act and that has nothing to do with my ability to flirt and everything to do with me not wanting to lead her on.
The only woman I want to flirt with hates my guts. And no matter what I do, I can't seem to fix things between us.
At one point in time, Macy Hayes was my entire world. I’d move heaven and Earth for her, but it wasn’t enough. She wanted me to give up baseball. The one thing I’ve worked towards my entire life. The only thing in this world that doesn’t care what my last name is or how much money I have in the bank. It all comes down to skill and hard work on the field, and I love that.
“Could we take a picture together? My friends are going to be so jealous!” She squeals and rushes to my side. She has her phone out and is ready to take a photo before I can even process what’s happening.
“Let me take it for you, darlin’.” Smithy smirks as he takes the device and steps backwards until he’s put enough space between us. “Smile!”
He snaps a few photos before handing the woman back her phone. She’s immediately scrolling through them. I have no doubt that if she doesn’t like them, she’s going to ask for us to take new ones.
“Oh! Could you sign something for me?” She rifles through her purse and after a few seconds frowns. “I don’t have anything.” She peeks up at me and asks, “Would you sign a tampon?”
“Um… no. How about I sign your shirt?” I offer, more than ready to move on with my day.
“Ok! Can you sign my chest?” She shoves her chest in my face and points to her left tit. Ok, then, I guess I'm signing boobs now if it means I can get away from her.
Tugging a sharpie out of my back pocket, I put the cap between my teeth and tug it off. I quickly scrawl out my name on her shirt, making sure to never touch her with my hand. Her eyes are glued to me and her mouth is hanging open again.
“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” she whispers.
“Do you want Smithy to sign too?” I hold out the marker to my teammate, knowing he won't pass up the chance to flirt and maybe he can get her attention away from me.
“Are you on the Pit Bulls?” She blinks up at him.
“You wound me, darlin’!” He slips his arm around her shoulders and angles her away from me. He’s the best when you don’t want fans talking to you. “I’m the hottest third baseman in major league baseball.”
I tune them out when my phone beeps with an incoming text. I breathe a sigh of relief at Cici’s name on my screen.
Cici: We’re hanging out at Kennedy’s tonight. Are you in?
Cord: That depends.
Cici: On what? *eye rolling emoji*
Cord: Will you protect me from women throwing themselves at me?
Cici: *unless their last name is Hayes and I used to enjoy shoving my tongue down their throat.
Cici: Sorry, I was correcting your text. I hate when you only say half of your thoughts.
Cord: I think you spend too much time with Dad.
Cici: I KNOW I spend too much time with Dad.
Cici: But that doesn’t change what I said.
I sigh and shake my head. I hate admitting I want her attention or how much I want her to be there, but let’s be honest, Cici knows. She’s well aware of how I feel about Macy and how much I want her back. It’s hard to hide anything from your twin.
