Broken Play Read Online Free

Beau was sure enough pretty when his copper skin was all sweaty, his tats gleaming black and slick.
    Marian cleared her throat and Cass turned back to her. “Uh,” she said, blinking nervously as she backed up, holding the door with her hand. “Thanks. Hurry up. Down on the field. Press. Bye.” She turned and hurried off, letting the door swing closed.
    “That girl got it bad,” Jo Jo said with a whistle. “You gonna put her out of her misery, or let me pick up the pieces of her broken heart?”
    “Do you have a death wish?” Cass asked quietly, rearranging his to-do list again. He took a sip of his water as he stared at Jo Jo over the top of the bottle. Jo Jo backed up, his hands in the air.
    “No, sir,” he said, shaking his head. “Not me. I didn’t say anything.”
    Beau laughed. “Chicken.”
    Jo Jo grinned. “You got that right, my man. Smart chicken.” He laughed as he sat down and started to get dressed. “See, I’m gonna be the first one down there with Miss Marian, while you pigs still got to wash the dirt off.” He laughed again as he danced out of the way of Cass’s reaching hand. “None of that,” he chided him. “Miss Marian would be very put out if I appeared all bloody for the press.”
    “We’ll just make sure you don’t appear at all,” Beau said, which made Cass feel better. Beau may not have been actively pursuing Marian, but he was definitely interested in her, thank God. Cass didn’t want to be with a woman without Beau. He hadn’t been for…hell, three years. There was something between Marian and Beau. He just had to push it past the edge of whatever it was and into sex. No, more than sex. He wanted more than sex with Marian and Beau. It was time for more.
    Before he could digest that mind-boggling thought, Beau slapped his shoulder. “Come on, man,” he said. “We’ve got to shower and get down there before they miss us.”
    “Coming,” Cass said. He put aside his confusing thoughts and focused on the upcoming interviews. He really hated the press.
    —
    Beau twisted his head and cracked his neck with a satisfying pop. He was so tense he was getting a headache. Even his eyelids felt tense, and he knew he was frowning. Most of the sports reporters were avoiding him like the plague. He felt diseased when he was around them. Like if they came too close his personal shit would infect them. But they made him feel that way with their questions. They didn’t ask him about the team’s chances this year, or how the rookies were playing. No, they asked him about his drug addiction and the sex tape. Always the drugs and the sex. He’d done that to himself, so he really had no cause to complain. But, Christ, you’d think no one had ever gotten clean and stayed that way. Cass was frowning from about ten feet away, watching him and picking up on his tension. Beau took a deep breath and blew it out, trying some of the breathing techniques he’d learned in rehab. Sometimes they worked, sometimes they didn’t.
    “Beau,” a bright, happy voice said from beside him. He turned and Marian was standing there with a big fake smile on her face as she led a reporter around. It was Stan Litchfield, one of the anchors of ESPN’s
Football Junkies
. Litchfield usually didn’t give him the time of day. “Stan, this is Beau Perez. I’m sure you two have met. Beau is one of the veteran players who anchor the Rebels. We’re thrilled with his performance at tight end.”
    Well, that was a surprise. “Marian,” he said, politely returning her greeting. He held his hand out to Litchfield. “Stan. How are you?”
    Litchfield looked unhappy. “Perez,” he grumbled, shaking his hand. “How are you doing?”
    Beau gave him a crooked, cynical smile. “I’m clean and sober, thanks for asking.”
    Marian’s eyes narrowed in warning, but Beau ignored her. He’d danced enough for these losers today.
    Litchfield looked a little taken aback. “Are you? Good.” He grinned. “Feeling a