Fuck Danny McAdams with his perfect body and sexy smile. I hadn't seen him shirtless in seven years, and yet seeing him that way a few minutes ago had my nipples budding, my pussy contracting like she had a mating call out for him.

It was disturbing on far too many levels to think about. He'd been sexy back in high school and early college, but nothing like he was now. Thick muscles covered his chest and stomach, and tight tanned skin stretched across them. The tight white boxers he'd been sporting left nothing to the imagination, and I knew the other guys in the locker room had to be jealous.

It was all I could do not to stare at him when I walked into the room. It was good to see he was being a total asshole. That's about the only thing that would keep us apart. Him. It had always been him pushing me away, refusing me the warmth of his love. Good. Seemed things hadn't changed. I liked consistent. I could live with it, or so I told myself.

"Terra." A deep voice called after me. Gary.

I turned and offered him a kind smile. "Hey there. Good to see you."

"Terra. I'm sorry about the way-"

I held up my hand and shook my head. "It's not for you to deal with, Gary. I'm a big girl and I've been in a lot of locker rooms. I've dealt with things that would make Danny's comments seem like a nursery rhyme." Where part of my comment was true, the rest was a lie. I had been through more than my fair share of shit over the last seven years, but nothing cut as deep as his words did. It was because, on some level, I still loved him. There was a small smidgen of hope that we would find resolution and be together.

"I know, but it's Danny." His eyes filled with sorrow. He knew our story as best as my father had. Danny, Lance and I had been a part of the team's lives since they all started years before. Gary had been one of the only ones on the playing field that stuck it out with my father.

"And Danny is just another player to me now." I shrugged and reached out to squeeze his shoulder. "Get out there and do what you do best."

"Alright, but I think Alan should talk to him." He moved back and tilted his hat to me.

I held my tongue. Alan didn't need to talk to Danny. I did. He could act like a cocky bastard anytime he wanted to, but it wasn't going to happen in my dugout, my locker room, my bullpen or on my goddamn team. He'd be off the team so fast it would make his head spin.

"You coming?" Alan glanced back at me as he paused on the stairs.

"Right behind you." I nodded and followed him up. Danny and I would have to get over our shit. Neither of us were kids. We had a baseball franchise to take to the World Series, and we would do it together. I had to remember that I wasn't the only one hurt by our breakup. Or maybe I was, and some part of me wanted to protect him from me.

Why the hell didn't you kiss me the other night?

My body ached at the idea of him picking me up and pressing me to the wall of my father's bedroom. I knew how good it felt to drown in Danny's aggression, and the passion etched into his eyes that afternoon after the funeral was intense. I'd have opened myself up and given him my virginity and anything else he wanted. I'd downed liquor like a fish in water in hopes of him coming on to me. It was a great excuse the next day.

But no. He'd acted like a dick and stood his ground. Much like he had in the locker room. Fine. I could call it over before it started too. Fuck it.

"You alright?" Alan moved back and opened the door to the owner’s box. "You're breathing a little hard."

"I'm out of shape." I walked in and shook the hands of the guys taking up a few chairs. Alan and I both knew I wasn't out of shape, but there was no need in being truthful. Danny had my heart racing, my palms sweating, my anger rising sharply. Bastard.

After talking about how great my father was to everyone, I found a seat and leaned forward, focusing my eyes on Danny. He looked like sex incarnate in his baseball uniform. He had to have on a cup, but the thick bulge at the front of his uniform still looked so damn good. I wasn't going to make it around him. One of us had to go. Maybe talking to my scheming-ass brother would help. He could help me think about how to separate myself from the desire to dive back in the past and fix everything as if none of it had ever happened.

It was a pipe dream for sure.

"Yes!" The guys around me jumped up. Danny had caught a ball the batter hit hard as hell. I stood up, my pulse racing a little. It could have hurt him so easily. He glanced up to the box and lifted the ball, smiling. Cocky bastard.

I dropped back down. Maybe it should have hurt him.

One of the older guys moved over to sit beside me. "Your father was a good man, young lady." He folded up his newspaper and laid it down on the small table in front of us. "Tell me how you plan on filling his shoes."

"I'm not sure that was ever the plan." My eyes caught the story on the front of the paper. It was about me and the upcoming downfall of one of the greatest baseball teams of all times. My father's. I forced myself to look away from it and turned to stare into his condemning gaze. "I'm going to pick up where my Dad left off and apply the rules he taught me my whole life."

"And she's not alone." Alan moved up behind me, gripped my seat and leaned over a little. "Frank, you know as well as I do that an owner is important, yes, but the GM, the coaches, and the players make the team."

"I guess." Frank stood, glanced down at the paper, back at me and walked away.

"Don't mind him. He's stuck in the 1930's." Alan walked around to take Frank's seat as I picked up the paper. "And don't mind that either."

The room erupted again, jumping up and shouting for joy as Danny shut down the inning with no runs.

I read the article, diving into my own doubts so deep that I wasn't sure how to get back out. It started with touting the greatness of the late Martin Harmon but very quickly moved into his poor decision to hand over the team to his daughter, not that his son was any better.

"Wow." I leaned back and continued to read. Not only was I not capable of running a team, but I was a woman. "A woman for god sakes." I put the paper down and gave Alan a look. "It's going to be an uphill battle, isn't it?"

"It is, but I think the more you hang out with the guys and let them see you as one of them, the better." He shrugged. "They all go to Margarita's for food and drinks after the game. We'll go. Stick close to me and I'll make sure they behave."

"I can take care of myself." I stood and moved to press my hands to the glass.

"Shit." Alan stood and moved up next to me. "Text from Joe. They're pulling Jeremy out."

"Why?" I turned and narrowed my eyes, trying to see over to the bullpen. There was no way. The angle was too shitty.

"Your father decided to do random drug testing for HGH. Jeremy was tested and the results just came in. The kid's taking it."

I turned back to the game. "Let me know what I need to do."

"We have to report it to the league on Monday and suspend him. They'll want to test everyone and talk with you."

"A scandal should be much more entertaining than what the media has on me now." I nodded toward the paper. "Just being a woman isn't too exciting, but having drug abuse in my first month? That'll sell."

"Terra." Alan rubbed the top of my back. "It happens to every team. We'll talk to the kid and figure out what the fuck happened."

"Sounds good." I kept my eyes on the game, not sure what to feel about everything. I wanted to be a GM and help run a team, not own one. Every good thing that the team did would be credited to the coaches and the players, but the shitty things?

Those were all mine to deal with.