I’m called many things: owner of the MLB’s Charleston Hurricanes, perpetual bachelor, and the biggest asshole this side of home plate. I’ve never had a problem with that. Until now. My infamous temper has landed me in serious trouble, and now I’m at risk of losing the baseball team I love. I have to complete three months of anger management sessions or I can kiss my ownership status goodbye. The only problem? My renowned life coach happens to be the irresistibly gorgeous woman I met and shared a world-shaking kiss with last night.