Page 21 of West Bound

“Doubtful.”

“Hey guys, can I move?” Cisco asks, his very thick accented voice cutting in between ours.

“You don’t know shit about me, Red. People change but clearly you’re too hung up on old mistakes to see that.”

“Quit calling me Red, you asshat. And it wasn’t just a mistake, Phoenix. You fucking decimated me. And to your group of douchebag teammates, no less. So excuse me for not falling at your feet like all of your other cleat chasers just because you flashed me a smile. Go find some idiot bimbo to suck you off because I will never fall to my knees for someone like you.”

Twenty-four hours. I lasted twenty-four hours before losing my shit on Phoenix. I knew it was only a matter of time, but I was hoping I could keep my wits for more than a day.

“I’m gonna…” Cisco stands but Phoenix does also which effectively boxes him in.

“Someone like me? What the hell does that mean?” He rests his hands on his hips and I can see just over his shoulder that we are catching the attention of a few guys.

“It means,” I say, flipping my hair out of my face. “You are worth the chewed up gum on the bottom of my shoe. You may be hot shit now, but I bet in a year or two you’ll be an overworked, overrated, overpaid, used to be good, old ass nobody.”

I witness the brown of his eyes disappear as they turn black as night. I’ve hit a nerve and I have to admit…I’m shaking a little. The look he gives me is one that I can only equate to what a lion looks right before he tears his prey to shreds.

“Listen here, little girl. Why don’t you sit back down and stick to what you’re good at; asking questions that someone writes down on those little flashcards of yours. I’ll stick to what I’m good at and that’s throwing a fastball that could singe the hair off your ass.” His lip curls with a snarl.

We stand in a tense standoff, neither of us speaking a word, and I swallow back what feels like a sob climbing up my throat because I don’t cry. Not anymore.

“I’ve earned my fucking right to be where I am. I worked my ass off and I’ll be damned if I’ll allow yet another man to belittle me simply because I’m a woman. So why don’t you just sit your ass down and wait your turn to throw a ball. It’s only a matter of time before that elbow gives out again, so rest up buddy.”

I’m so tired of defending myself in this man's world. I’m good and I know it. I don’t need anyone to tell me I am. But the constant “who’d she fuck to get here” attitude from men like Phoenix, Dan and Jonathan is really starting to wear on me. I don’t sleep with men to climb up the ladder. I sleep with them because, just like a man, I can. Simple as that.

Cheers explode throughout the stadium, and we both look to the field to see one of the guys hit a home run. The ball soars through the air and out of reach of the centerfielder, causing the sound of the Wranglers cannons to pierce through the screaming fans.

I sit back in my chair and immediately scribble down some notes about the play and focus on my job. Not Phoenix. He’s nothing. He’s not even here. Forget about that asshat.

When my notes are completed I can see movement in the corner of my eye and slowly turn my head to see Phoenix standing closer than ever.

“You better watch your mouth, little girl. Your bark is bigger than your bite and if you don’t quit sassing me, I’m gonna put you over my fucking knee and spank that tight little ass of yours. I’ll show you there’s no problem with my throwing arm. Try me, Red. I dare you.”

He’s so close I can feel the warmth of his words as his breath skates across my skin. I swallow and try to not show how affected I am by them. My mind races, searching for a witty comeback but for once in more years that I can remember, I am at a complete loss.

His eyes flick down and a cocky smirk graces his stupidly handsome face. My eyes drift down, following the direction of his gaze, and I find my traitorous nipples trying to claw their way out of my blouse.

Horny little bitches.

When I look up, I find him staring at me with an intensity that makes my legs quake and my vagina quiver. Why can’t he be as ugly as he is arrogant?

The sound of cleats pounding the cement catches my attention and I see players run into the dugout.

The bottom of the inning is over which means seventh inning stretch will be coming soon and a loud rendition of Deep In the Heart of Texas will soon follow. I take the opportunity to slip away from Phoenix’s stare and shuffle as quickly as possible to the bathroom, deciding to forgo the convenient one located behind the dugout.

Once inside, I rush over to a stall and lock the door behind me. My mind is racing, my hands are shaking, and my stupid body is reacting like it forgot the awful thing Phoenix did to us.

I reach for my phone that’s hidden in the waist of my pants and type out a text to my girls with trembling fingers.

Me: SOS. Mud has been flung and shit has hit the fan. Necesita margaritas pronto. Meet at Ike’s after the game. I WON’T TAKE NO FOR ANSWER.

Seconds pass when I see those lovely little dots appear just before the first text rolls through.

Cami: Oh shit. Phoenix?

Me:Yup!

Cat:You didn’t even last a day!

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