Bad Call by Raquel Riley

One bad call can change your entire season.

Casey
The first night we met, he burned hotter than the sun for the handful of hours we spent in bed. How immature to be bitter that I never called him back.
The second time we met was on the ball field. I couldn’t decide if his bad calls were directed at my team or me. But if I didn’t play nice, the Muskrats had a zero chance of winning the College World Series.
I enjoyed his body, but his smart mouth made my blood boil. This might work if I could find something to stuff it with.

Baylor
Casey checked every one of my boxes. So what if he couldn’t stand me? I think he loved the tension as much as I did.
Besides our petty bickering and his obsession with the worst team in the MLB, we were perfectly matched. He was the first man I slept with. What would it take to make him the last?