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I flipped Rhys off and kept walking, my eyes staying trained on the field ahead.

Today was game seven of the finals. The game that would determine whether we would be going to the World Series or not.

And my head wasn’t in the game.

In fact, if anything, the worst idea I’d ever had was telling the coach that I was all right to play this game.

He’d noticed my reluctance in practice the day before. He’d also seen that my temper was short—even with my own teammates.

It hadn’t taken a rocket scientist for everyone to know that something had happened with Wrigley and me—again.

But, I hadn’t wanted to talk about it.

In fact, the only thing I did want to talk about was the situation I found myself in, time and time again. That conversation, however, couldn’t take place without Wrigley.

Wrigley who wouldn’t take my phone calls. Wrigley who wouldn’t answer her fucking door.

Wrigley who was the love of my goddamn life.

“Heads up,” Rhys called.

I instinctively caught the ball that he’d lobbed in my direction, then rocketed it back.

He caught it, then shot it like a missile to Gunner.

Gunner caught it and tossed it underhanded to the pitcher, Gentry.

Gentry looked at the ball in his hand once before tossing it to the umpire.

The umpire took it, put it in the holder around his waist, and then tossed a new ball to Gentry.

“Yo, Furious George!” I heard a fan call from behind me. “Where’s your new girl? She’s hot!”

I gritted my teeth.

I realized that the guy was trying to be nice—in his own way of course—but that was what was fucking with my head already.

I didn’t need him adding insult to injury.

But, I somehow managed to ignore it.

Then he started talking to me like my ex-wife was a piece of trash for leaving me, and I might have, kind of, lost it.

***

Wrigley

“Turn on the game,” Diamond ordered.

I sighed and did what she said, I turned on the game.

Only to find George beating the shit out of some guy.

Minutes later, the fight was broken up, and George, as well as the other guy, were ejected.

An hour after that, the Lumberjacks suffered a loss by one single run.

Worst. Game. Ever.Chapter 23Apparently, you’re not allowed to serve out ass whoopings during professional baseball games. Who knew?

-Wrigley’s secret thoughts

Wrigley

If there was one thing in this world I didn’t want to do, it was go to a charity baseball game with my famous ex-husband.

However, since I’d organized it, and the women that I helped needed the money, I felt it was my responsibility to be there.

George was one of the last to show up, which was good for me.

I’d arrived at the Lumberjacks field at ten, and by twelve, every single seat in the arena was filled.

Despite the Lumberjacks horrific loss a week during their last game, the town of Longview still loved their team.

Which was good for me, because these tickets weren’t cheap.

And with as many of them that were sold just so they could watch one more baseball game this year, it was a major plus for me.

What wasn’t a plus was seeing my ex-husband arrive with Melanie.

I gritted my teeth and tried not to pay attention.

And honestly, I probably would’ve accomplished not actually talking to him had George not protested the ‘fun’ aspect of today’s game.

“I’m not doing it.” George shook his head.

That was when I knew that I was going to have to convince him.

I gritted my teeth, then did what I had to do.

“Come on,” I teased, my heart pounding like it did all those years ago when we’d first met. “It’s for charity.”

My husband usually wouldn’t do it. At least, until I asked him to do it, that was.

Then he’d do it.

He’d always been that way. He’d always done just about anything in the world for me, which made me feel even more upset.

I’d broken us, and then he’d broken us once I thought we were fixed.

But today wasn’t about us. Today was about the women that I advocated for. And I wouldn’t make this about me.

But I knew what worked on George, and I would use it.

I fluttered my eyelashes at him. “Please?”

George blinked, then blinked again. He was so confused by my change in attitude that it was adorable.

“What do I get if I do?” he challenged me.

“Anything you want,” I offered, then immediately regretted it.

I’d do just about anything…but the one thing I knew he wanted. Me back.

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.

“Anything?” he clarified.

Yeah, right.

I’d promise him anything, though, to get what I wanted.

I was such a bitch.

“Anything that doesn’t require a judge,” I amended.

George’s eyes narrowed, then he nodded once.

George sighed. “What is it I have to do again?”

George’s sweet, husky, deep voice that always sounded so yummy and delicious sounded from behind me.

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