Page 39 of Playing Hard to Hate

TATUM

PRESENT

I had never been to a pro baseball game before, but tonight, I wasn’t just any fan in the stands.

Millie was bouncing off the walls, talking a mile a minute about the guy she went out with last night, and then changing the subject to tell me how excited she was to be here, then started planning my wedding.

Yup, planning my wedding with Griffin, even though only a few hours ago, I had just said yes to being his girlfriend.

And a day ago, she hated him. Bipolar much?

“I can see it now. Two babies. Big house. Two dogs. Oh, I can see it now,” she had chanted on the drive over here, and I hadn’t processed a damn thing.

All I could think about was the fact he’d given me his jersey to wear and his hat.

I was wearing his number. Something I had secretly dreamed about for years.

We were sitting with the wives . The realization settled over me as I walked through the exclusive stadium entrance, our names checked off a list by a well-dressed attendant.

My stomach twisted. This wasn’t my world .

And yet tonight, it was. I was the girlfriend of rookie Griffin Silver.

My picture had been taken numerous times already, and I could only imagine the articles that were starting to surface.

The stadium was a heady mix of scents, a cocktail of everything that made a ballgame feel alive.

Something you could never quite grasp by sitting at home.

Freshly cut grass from the field, the crisp, almost sweet scent hanging in the warm night air.

Sweat and leather, the undeniable musk of athletes who had been grinding all day under the sun.

Hot dogs and popcorn, the buttery, salty aroma wafting through the stands, mixing with the sharp tang of mustard and the sticky-sweet scent of cotton candy.

The wives’ section carried its own fragrance, a blend of expensive perfume and coconut-scented sunscreen, and the faintest trace of champagne fizzing in tall glasses.

I caught a whiff of my own jersey, Griffin’s scent still clinging to the fabric—clean detergent, a hint of cedarwood, and something undeniably him.

I inhaled, grounding myself.

Even surrounded by thousands of people, it was that scent, the one that reminded me of late-night drives, stolen glances, and the way he used to say my name that made my chest ache the most.

The wives’ section was a private, cushioned area, elevated just behind the dugout with an unobstructed view of the field.

The women around me were effortlessly beautiful with long, beachy waves, designer sunglasses perched on their heads, and expensive jewelry glittering under the stadium lights.

They laughed easily, chatting like they’d known each other forever.

And I didn’t think I’d ever belong with this crowd . Thank God he let me bring Millie.

I smoothed a hand over my jeans, suddenly regretting my outfit of a simple tank top and Griffin’s oversized jersey, the one he’d given me just hours ago. It felt like armor . A reminder of why I was here. He wanted me here, and at the end of the day, that was all that mattered.

I was here for him.

The moment the team took the field, the energy in the stadium shifted.

The crowd roared as Griffin’s name was announced, his presence commanding even from a distance.

God, he looked too good in his uniform. Confident, strong.

Mine. At least for now. It was different hearing the energy, feeling the energy, ripple through the crowd compared to watching it on a screen.

Millie grabbed my hand and stood at the entrance of the private section. “This is real,” she whispered, and I nodded, totally at a loss for words. We edged farther into the area finding two seats.

The wives erupted into cheers, some standing, some raising their drinks.

Next to me, a woman with perfectly tanned skin and a rock-sized engagement ring and platinum wedding band leaned over, the one I had assumed was with Griffin all those weeks ago.

I wanted to die of embarrassment. She was married.

“So which one is yours?” she asked, flashing a friendly smile.

My breath hitched. Was he mine?

I forced a smile, eyes locked on the field. “Number twenty-eight.” My voice was softer than I intended.

The woman’s eyes widened slightly. “Silver? Wow. He’s a hell of a player.” Then, with a knowing smirk, she added, “And I heard he’s got a wild side.”

My stomach flipped. Had she been a cleat chaser?

I barely had time to respond before the game started, and for the first time in years, I watched Griffin play from the sidelines and not through a screen. He was no longer the cocky boy I’d grown up with, but now a man who was absolutely fearless.

“They look so much hotter in person,” Millie exclaimed, earning a giggle from the woman on my other side .

“Aren’t they? I didn’t have a chance to introduce myself earlier. I’m Logan Dexter, and this is Kane,” she said as another woman handed her a very happy baby boy.

“You’re Jaxon Dexter’s wife!” Millie screamed, earning us a few curious looks, and I looked at the woman wide-eyed.

“You seem surprised.” Her green eyes glittered under the stadium lights, and her thick black hair was pulled back into a ponytail that her son kept trying to grab with every swish it made.

“Oh god, you thought I had been with Silver.” A soft smile played on her pink glossy lips.

“The cleat chasers are out there. They aren’t allowed in here, don’t worry.

And from what I’ve heard, that man apparently hasn’t even looked at another woman in months.

I’m assumin’ since you came into the picture.

” Her drawl thickened the more she spoke, reminding me of the perfect southern belle.

Millie took this prime opportunity to answer for me.

“These two have driven me crazy for almost eight years now.”

“That long? How have you been since the whole grocery store incident?” Logan directed her attention to me.

“A bit shaken up,” I told her honestly before looking out onto the field and searching for Griffin.

“I know the paps have been tearin’ you apart lately, and I’m sorry. I just want you to know that I think you are absolutely gorgeous, and they’ve done it to all of us. They said the nastiest things about me after I had Kane,” she said, bouncing the happy baby on her knee.

“I don’t think it helps that I was a small influencer before we were spotted together, and then, of course, the campaigns,” I told her, feeling my phone vibrate in my pocket. It hadn’t stopped since we got here with social media notifications.

“No, of course not. I’m surprised they haven’t spun the typical tale of you using him to gain popularity. What’s the second campaign? I only saw the beachwear.”

I kept forgetting that the jewelry collection had yet to be released, and I wasn’t supposed to talk about it, but I didn’t think Logan had any ulterior motives.

“An engagement ring collection for a boutique jewelry store.”

Logan grinned, her eyes twinkling in amusement. “The tabloids are sure gonna love that one.”

“Don’t remind me. I’m not looking forward to those articles. I keep telling myself not to read them but find myself spending far too much time devouring them,” I admitted, getting more and more comfortable talking to Logan. It helped that I had Millie beside me.

“I read every single one. Just had to teach myself to laugh at the critiques and not let them drown me.” Kane started to fuss, and Logan stood up rocking him slowly.

“Are any of the players single?” Millie asked, glancing around the room at the other wives and girlfriends. None had approached us or even bothered to glance our way.

“Graham and Hunter,” I answered Millie, who rolled her eyes.

“Not them.”

Logan laughed, earning a few curious looks. “You don’t like them?”

“Went to high school with them. They’re total idiots. Not a brain cell between the two of them.”

I snorted, as did Logan, who had managed to rock Kane to sleep. She slowly walked over to his stroller and settled him inside.

“Can’t say I blame you, but you know boys do eventually grow up, right? ”

Millie and I shared a look and then burst into laughter.

“When they’re forty?” Millie asked in between giggles.

Logan smiled, shaking her head at the two of us. “I like you two. I hope you come to the next couple of games, and maybe we can still be friends once Jaxon retires.” She whispered the words like it’s a big secret.

My brows raised and my mouth flopped open at what I’d just heard. Starting to blush, I did my best to act normal…did Griffin know all along? I wondered.

“Why on earth would he do that?” Millie asked in shock. Jaxon was the best pitcher this team had ever seen.

“I’m pregnant again, and he wants to get us out of the city. We have a house and some land in Honey Magnolia where he grew up with his brothers. We want to raise the kids around family.”

I couldn’t help but let my eyes fall to her stomach. You sure as hell couldn’t tell she was pregnant.

“You could have fooled me. You look hot as hell,” Millie sputtered. “I hope I look that good when I’m pregnant.”

Logan’s eyes filled with warmth and happiness at the compliment. “I really like you two.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, a quick reminder that this is game five of the playoffs, and what a night it’s been!

The Atlanta Braves are currently tied with the New York Navigators, 2-2.

The Braves are just a few innings away from punching their ticket to the next round.

” The announcer’s loud voice boomed through the stadium, catching our attention.

“On the mound, we’ve got a living legend, Jaxon Dexter, who could be making one of his final playoff appearances before retirement.

After an incredible career spanning over a decade, the veteran ace has hinted this might be his last run, and what a way to go out if the Braves can seal the deal tonight! ”