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I feel like this entire city is on edge waiting for Brady to come out of his slump. That’s all it is.” I bite my lip hard, a habit that rears its head when I’m either worried sick about something or in the ecstatic throws of passion. Mitchel used to make fun of my silly habit. Which reminds me…
    “The jerk has been texting me since he landed here.” I don’t need to give the details. There’s only been one jerk in my life—or guy, for that matter.
    “I really despise him,” Taylor spouts, disgust clear in her voice.
    Taylor’s bossy and opinionated, but also the most loyal friend I’ve ever had. She’d walk on glass for me if it would make me happy or gain a boyfriend. Everyone needs a Taylor in their life, and I am one lucky gal to be her best friend.
    “I know you’re wondering. I didn’t text him back. I blocked his number instead.” I add a skip to my step at the mention of blocking his ass.
    “Oh my God,” Taylor says, yanking my arm and pulling me to a stop. “You did?” She beams, and I nod back at her.
    “It was easy.” Well…after I sat and stared at the block option for a few minutes—or was it an hour?
    “This is major. I’m so damn proud of you. I think it’s the beginning of you really getting over him.
    “I hope so. I really, really do. It just seems like he haunts my heart.”
    “You need a stellar orgasm from a man’s tongue. Trust me.” I look around to see if anyone heard her say that, but everyone is too busy hustling by us to pay any attention.
    “Maybe you’re right.”
    “No maybes about it.”
    Taylor and I enter the stadium and make our way to the awesome seats her father’s company bought for her. They’re right by third base and I can’t wait to see Brady warming up. It’s my favorite part of the game.
    I watch him bend over to pick up the ball, throw back his arm, then send it sailing to first. He repeats this motion over and over again, putting me in a fan girl trance. Occasionally, he’ll step away from third base and chat it up with a teammate. I love to watch him toss back his head when he laughs, but he’s not laughing today. I frown, biting my lip.
    The Yankees start walking onto the field and my heart drops into my lap when I see Mitchell taking a few throws. His golden hair catches the light of the sun and my breath hitches. Damn him and his glorious hotness.
    “Stop it,” Taylor admonishes. “Keep your eyes on third base. He’s the one worth staring at, not that piece of shit.”
    “Thanks. I needed that reminder. Do you ever think seeing him will get easier?”
    “Yes, I do. He did a number on you and it just takes time. Falling in love with someone else will be the ultimate remedy, and it will happen. I promise.”
    “Thanks.” I lean into her side and she brings her head to mine.
    We sit back up in our stadium seats and watch the men get ready to start the game. The umpires call for the start and the first pitch is thrown. The player hits it right to Brady and he stumbles toward the line drive. I hold my breath as he regains his footing and sends the ball to first base.
    The ball arrives just in time for the out and I swear the entire stadium lets out a big sigh as the umpire makes the call. Something is definitely not right with Brady. His game is off and I fear my lip will have permanent teeth marks by the last pitch.
    After a few innings, Mitchell is forgotten, for the most part, my attention staying on Brady. He paces around third base as an unmistakable frustration pours off him. A few of the players have ended up on third base and I believe they’re taunting him, rubbing in that his game is falling apart.
    When Mitchell hits a triple and lands on third, I can’t tear my eyes off either of them. Mostly because I know Mitchell and his love for hitting his opponents where it hurts the most.
    Mitchell turns to Brady and says something, his usual cocky grin in place. Brady stops and faces Mitchell, turning away from me so I can only