The Wrong Game

Two season tickets. One genius idea. Zero interest in a relationship. The plan is simple: a brand new, hot, preferably funny, definitely single male will fill one of those seats for every Bears game at Soldier Field. And I’ll fill the other. I can’t think of a better way to use the season passes I’d bought for my ex-husband. I am a woman of plans, and this one’s foolproof. Until Zach Bowen offers to be my practice round. He’s infuriating. Presumptuous and overbearing. And absolutely, undeniably