7. Macy

Chapter 7

Macy

I pace around my living room for the hundredth time. It's two minutes shy of six o'clock and I'm praying Cord doesn't knock on my door in the next one hundred twenty seconds.

I don't want to work things out with him. I don't want to build a bridge and find friendship with him. If I can't have Cord Powell as my boyfriend, I don't want him in my life. At least not in a friendly manner.

Ninety-five seconds. If he doesn't knock on the door in the next ninety-five seconds, I won't answer and I'll just tell him he was late and he missed the opportunity to talk.

I snort out a laugh and shake my head. If I tried to do that, Cord would probably knock on my door until he pissed off every neighbor in my building. He wouldn't care one bit… except now he's a big-time baseball player. People would recognize him and probably tell the gossip rags how he's harassing their neighbor. It would serve him right though .

Sixty-one seconds and counting. It's going to be fine. It's just Cord, I've spoken to him a million times. This is no different, right?

Forty-seven seconds. That's three quarters of a minute. Yes, let's focus on math and not the man who will be knocking on my door soon. Math is our friend. Math doesn't depress you unless you take your measurements to buy something online, then math is a dirty bitch. No one wants to measure their waist and hips. Those numbers just hurt feelings and make you feel guilty when you eat ice cream or cookies.

Twenty-three. Holy shit. Is it hot in here? It's got to be over ninety degrees. Maybe I should change out of these yoga pants and into shorts. Something that will cool me off.

I rush into my room, shoving my yoga pants down my legs as I go. I trip three times trying to tug them off and shuffle through my drawer looking for comfortable shorts. I should probably find a t-shirt too. This long sleeve one is making me feel like I'm on fire. After slipping on the shorts, I begin searching for a comfortable shirt. Before I can find what I'm looking for, there's a knock on the door.

No. No, no, no. I think I'm going to be sick. Do I have to let him in here? Maybe we can just have this discussion via text. Why not? You can have entire work meetings via video chats now, why can't this be done virtually too?

I grab the shirt on top and slip it over my head as I rush to the door. I know he won't hesitate to cause a scene and as much as I don't care what people think, I don't want to be known as the woman who has professional athletes at her door. The women in this building will want to be friends so they can flirt and the men will try to get free tickets or want to hang out on the off chance they might meet a pro baseball player. No thank you.

"Open the door, Mace," he calls as he pounds on the wood harder this time.

"I'm coming! Jeez, I was getting changed." I yank the door open and am met with the most beautiful bouquet of flowers.

There are hot pink roses, soft pink lilies, and lavender Gerbera daisies. They're my favorite flowers and make a breathtaking arrangement.

"Cord," I whisper as I take the flowers from him and hurry into the kitchen to put them in some water. I've always loved getting flowers, but it happens so infrequently. "You didn't have to do that."

"I know how much you love flowers, Mace. I wasn't about to show up here empty handed." He stuffs his hands into his pockets and rocks back on his heels as he stares down at his feet. He reminds me so much of the teenage boy I fell in love with right now.

"Thank you. They're beautiful."

"They're nothing compared to you, sweetheart." He peeks up at me through his lashes and flashes me a lopsided grin .

"What are you doing here, Cord? You say you're not trying to get back together, but you keep making comments like that." I move into the living room and drop onto the couch with a sigh. Tucking one leg under me, I hug the other knee to my chest so I can rest my chin on it.

"I'm tired of the tension between us," he says softly, taking the spot next to me, leaving barely any space. He absentmindedly strokes my sock covered foot with his massive fingers. It's something he's always done when we were together. It's almost like he needs to be touching me in some way.

"And you think barging into my apartment is going to make that disappear?"

"I didn't barge in." He rolls his eyes. "You opened the door for me."

"Only because you started yelling." I point a finger in his direction.

"I thought you were getting changed?"

"I was. I almost fell over three times in the process, but I did it."

"Damn, look at you growing up and shit. Soon, you won't even need a bib when you eat." He smirks.

"I know, right! When are you going to grow up and learn to look in the mirror before you leave the house?" I blink innocently at him, making his smirk grow.

This is how things have always been between us. We're like oil and water, yet we were so good together… until we weren't .

"Are you saying I don't look good, babe?" He quirks a brow. "Because we both know you're lying."

"That shirt makes you look like you have boobs," I blurt out before I can stop myself.

"They're called pecs. I know you're jealous because they're bigger than yours, but it's all muscle."

"Yeah, I'm sure." I roll my eyes just to piss him off. "And my ass is all muscle too."

"I mean I haven't seen it in a while, so you could be lying. Maybe you should strip so I can evaluate it properly."

"Because stripping would solve all of our problems," I deadpan.

"We never had problems when we were naked, so you might be onto something there."

We're quiet for a few moments. We could keep bantering the rest of the night, but that isn't going to solve anything. There's a reason he's here and I want to get to it.

"Can we cut to the chase? I'm exhausted and I need to clean up all that crap." I motion to my dining room table.

"What is all of that?" Cord frowns.

"My office packed into boxes." I lift my shoulder in a shrug.

"Why is your office stuff here?" He asks slowly, never taking his eyes off of me. I could lie, but he'll see through that and it's not really worth it.

"Because I no longer have an office… or a job," I add quietly .

"Why? What happened?" He scoots a little closer and loops his arm between my stomach and my thigh, hugging my bent knee to him.

"It's not important. I just lost my cool and said some things I knew would get me fired. It doesn't matter though; I hated that company and I didn't want to work there. This is probably the push I needed to look for something new."

"Have you applied anywhere?"

"Nah, I was fired yesterday. Today, I haven't really had the energy to start searching for a job. I want to take a week or two off and really evaluate what I want in life, because this isn't it."

He nods his head like he understands where I'm coming from, but he doesn't. There's no way. Cord's known what he wanted to do when he grew up since long before we met. He always wanted to play ball professionally and if he couldn't do that, or when he retires from the game, he planned on working at Scott, Powell, and Coleman. He's been trained since he was little to take over the business with Cici, Lochlan, Jo, and Mia, but only Cici works there so far.

"What do you want in life? A husband and a family? The perfect house with a picket fence? A cuddly yellow Labrador puppy?"

"At one point, yeah. Now, I think I want to be single and just enjoy my life and job."

"But you always wanted kids. "

"Yeah, I did. But then life happened and I realized being alone is probably the better option for me." I say softly, refusing to meet his gaze because I know exactly what I'm going to find. I'll be staring into the eyes of the man I saw forever with, knowing I can't have it anymore.