“He’s such a good guy,” the real coach says to me while the kids trip over themselves to assure Cooper that yes, they cheer for each other. “I’ve been doing this a long time. Nobody ever cares about paying attention to the losing teams in the Little Sluggers, but Cooper—man, he steps up. He’s been involved in the league since before Aiden’s older brother played, always showing up for the kids who struggle the most, totally flying under the radar because no one pays attention to the losers, especially in the off-season. Don’t know if you know or not, but the Fireballs themselves sucked so bad for so long that even the people who knew who he was didn’t care. Thought he’d be too busy with the Fireballs having so much pressure this year, but he reached out a couple weeks ago. When he told me he had a hook-up for tickets tonight, I thought he was kidding. But look at us. This is making so many of these kids’ dreams come true.”
And this is exactly my problem with Cooper Rock.
The man who gave me the best three days of my life eight years ago, ghosted me after promising he’d call, and then made every last gossip page on the planet when he was caught making out with an A-list actress two days later, is the same man who’d adopt the worst team in the Little Sluggers and make their dreams come true.
Also, Levi Wilson is on myI shouldn’t put you on my shit list for this but I’m going to anywaylist. It’s not a far leap to guess that my fellow pop star, native of Copper Valley, brother of the Fireballs’ new co-owner and known friend of Cooper, was the hook-up that made this meet-and-greet moment happen.
I shoot Hiramys theno no no no nolook.
But she doesn’t see me.
Of course she doesn’t.
Not when Cooper Freaking Rock is showing off those sparkling blue-green eyes and that lady-killer smile and those dimples and that swagger that somehow manages to sayI’m just a regular guy who’s also a god on a baseball diamond and a heartbreaker off the field.
Hiramys extends a hand to Cooper. “Oh my god, Iloveyou in those Pirate’s Booty commercials. You and your grandfather areadorable.”
Cooper grins the sameaw, shucksgrin that he wore for his adoring crowd the one time I spotted him at a party a few years back, when I didn’t realize at first that it was him having that tumble-off pool-side with Simone Biles, which is one more reason to love-hate Cooper Rock.
The man can doanything.
And he knows it, but that humble-not-humbleaw, shucksgrin always feels genuine. “Pop’s the real star in those commercials,” he says to Hiramys as I sign the last few autographs for the kids who won’t stand still for our picture. “Did his own wardrobe and makeup, and every last bit of the script was improvised. I was merely along for the ride.”
“You are so sweet. Look at you, passing off all the credit and adopting some kids who could use exactly this kind of baseball role model.”
She takes a big breath, and oh, no.
Oh, no no no.Don’t do it, Hiramys. Don’t—
“Waverly and I watch the Fireballsall the time, and you are—shew.” She fans herself.
The boys have stopped to listen, and they all stare at her like she’s crazy.
The room is shrinking.
And that’s before Cooper’s gaze shifts past Hiramys to me, where I’m standing in front of my normal photographer, gaping at him.
Our eyes connect, and an electric current zaps through the air, first making my heart cramp, and then my vagina, who quickly gets over the cramp and starts in with an unwelcome throb.
It’s been eight years, I silently remind her.You don’t get to pretend you remember, and also, we’re on stage in forty-five minutes since this is running long, so simmer down.
She also doesn’t get a say, becauseCooper Rock.
Backstabbing heartbreaker who, by all accounts, is master of the one-night stand and yetstillcomes off smelling like freaking roses in the press anytime his name happens to hit the media.
And he’s standing there with that smoldery grin, posture screaming,This is but one more normal part of my day. He breaks eye contact with me to turn the grin back on Hiramys.
“Eh. I’m just a guy who can catch a ball. Sometimes hit it too. Let’s get these pictures and get out of your hair. Really nice of you to let us in even though we were late. I know you didn’t have to.”
And this is why it’s impossible to hate him, no matter how much I want to.
I believe the line.
I freaking believe it.
My gut twists.
It’s been eight years—let it go, I tell myself.
