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Authors: Samantha Kane

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BOOK: Broken Play
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Chapter 19

Half an hour later, Cass was still frustrated as hell over what had happened in Marian's office. He was hoping the workout with the team in the weight room would settle his mind. Weight training usually did. Beau called it Zen, something that you could focus on completely, body and mind. He sure as hell hoped so. He wasn't just frustrated with Smith, but with Marian and what happened before Smith arrived. For every step forward with her, they took two steps back. Both she and Beau had asked some hard questions, questions Cass wasn't ready to answer. Not because he didn't want to, but because he didn't know the answers yet.

For some reason, he wanted Marian more than any other woman he'd ever met. Maybe it was the way she responded to them in bed, as if they mattered. She wasn't just fucking the two most notorious players in the league, she wasn't being a bad girl—well, she was, but that wasn't the end goal—she wasn't just posting another notch in her lipstick case. She wanted Cass and Beau. And she and Beau together were so perfect for him that they had nearly driven him insane, in her office yesterday and again this morning.

He wasn't used to not getting what he wanted. Beau said he was spoiled like that. Damn right he was. If he wanted something he worked hard until he'd achieved it. That was his motto, his way of life. And he wanted Marian and Beau. He was determined to make this work. But first she had to tell them what she and Danny were hiding. How could he protect her if he didn't know what he was protecting her from?

As he and Beau were walking to the weight room with some of the guys, they were hailed by Melody Ann from PR. “Mr. Zielinski!” she called down the hallway, waving her hand like a lunatic. Cass grinned. He sort of liked when she called him that, even though he'd told her to call him Cass yesterday. Made him feel like front office already.

They all stopped, and when she reached them she was out of breath. Her little black pencil skirt was her one concession to business wear. She had on a silky, pale-blue blouse underneath a tiny, light-blue T-shirt that said
Lady Rebels Yell
. Cass liked that one. He'd sent it to his college-age niece, much to his brother's displeasure. She wore little white tennis shoes with those short socks that had a ball on the back. She was adorable. Today her hair was a collection of small, messy braids, all gathered in a knot on top of her head with pieces falling out. She had to know someone in the front office, because no way would the suits have hired her looking like she did. Nearly everyone else up in admin and PR wore boring suits.

“Yes, Melody Ann?” he asked with a smile.

“Have you seen the video?” she gasped.

Cass's heart did a little stutter and then a two-step. He hoped to God this kid wasn't watching that damn sex tape. “What video?”

“You,” she said, making it a little clearer. Her smile was so big that she looked like a lottery winner. “From last night.”

There were a few snickers in the crowd behind him and he turned to look. No one would meet his eyes.

“With Marian?” he asked, sharing a look of horror with Beau. Not again. Not with Marian. What had they been thinking at that bar?

Melody Ann frowned. “No. Was she singing too?”

“Singing?” Beau asked.

“Oh my God,” she said, exasperated. “Don't you two Google yourselves? Twitter? Facebook? Anything?”

“They're dinosaurs,” cornerback Rasheed Davis said with a laugh. “Regular cavemen.”

“Not anymore,” Beau said with a grimace, ignoring Davis. “I got sick of seeing all that shit about me online.”

She shook her head. “This is good publicity.
Good.
Yes?”

Cass got a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. “Holy shit. You're not talking about the karaoke?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said, nodding enthusiastically. “That was brilliant! You've gone viral again! That's twice in one week the Rebels have trended. Brilliant,” she said again. “Whose idea was it?”

With narrowed eyes Cass thought of Tom, who was doing him a favor right now. “Kelly's. And if I catch him I'm going to kill him.”

“Why?” Melody Ann practically yelled at him. “It's the best publicity you've had in years! It's your number-one hit on Google now. Do you understand what that means? The top of the page.”

“Not the other one?” he whispered, the light dawning.

“Not the other one,” she said with a nod and a wink.

“Still,” Cass said with a resigned sigh, “I'm not a good singer. Don't lie, I know it.”

“I wasn't going to lie,” she said with a shrug. “You suck. But the point is, people love it. The whole team up there.” She pointed at Tyler. “Air-guitar quarterback.” She brushed her hand along the side of her head. “Perfect hair. It was perfect! It was spontaneous! It's fantastic!”

“Okay,” Cass said, a little alarmed at her enthusiasm. “And?”

“And, we want more,” she said, staring intently around at all the players, who suddenly started mumbling about having to get to the weight room. “Stop right there,” she told them, and surprisingly, they did. “Do you know how much our season-tickets sales have jumped in the last couple of weeks?” she asked them. “Ten percent up from last year at the same time. Ten. We couldn't give them away last year.” She pointed to Cass and the guys behind him. “You made it happen. You want more fans, don't you? You want to fill the stadium, don't you?”

There were mumbled “Yeahs” among the guys.

“Then give me more of that,” she said. “I don't care if it's karaoke or something else. But give me stuff that the locals can film and put up on YouTube. Not the X-rated YouTube,” she amended quickly. “We've already got a couple of classics there. Stuff that will draw crowds to the games.”

“But we didn't plan the karaoke,” Cass argued. “It just happened. I don't know how to draw fans with crazy stunts.”

“Just watch YouTube, man,” King Ulupoka said with a nod. “You'll think of something.”

“You think of something, too,” Melody Ann said to King.

“No, man,” he said. “They don't want to watch me. They want to watch these guys.” He pointed to Cass and Beau, and then Tyler. “The big names. The pretty boys.” King pointed to himself, all six feet five inches and 305 pounds of him. “Not this.”

“Maybe,” Melody Ann agreed. “But we want them to want to watch all of you. So put your heads together and think of something.”

—

Cass watched Marian and Smith walk into the workout room. He was doing circuits with most of the team. He stood up when they entered and walked over to meet them. He wasn't being a big dumb-ass this time. As captain of the team, it was his job to meet and greet and acclimate new players to the system. Right? Right.

“Smith,” he said, trying to maintain a calm, professional manner. “Welcome to the Rebels.” He held out his hand to shake. “We started off on the wrong foot and I'm sorry for that.” He wasn't sorry at all, but Marian was beaming at him, which made this pussy move on his part tolerable.

Smith slapped his hand away and stepped right up in his face. “Don't bullshit me,” he said in a low voice. “You don't like me, and I don't like you. Stay the fuck away from Marian if you know what's good for you.”

Cass took the step that pressed their chests together. “You don't want to go there,” he told him. “Not just because I will beat the shit out of you for daring to try to tell me what to do, but I'm pretty sure Marian will kick what I leave of your ass crying on the floor.” By now the entire room had gone silent while all the guys watched their exchange.

“Danny,” Marian whispered furiously. “I thought we worked this out in my office.” She was tugging on his arm while he and Cass stood there and glared at each other. Cass had about five inches on him, but, damn, Smith was one tough son of a bitch.

“No,” Smith said. “You talked, and I didn't interrupt because my mama taught me good manners.”

“You are such a bullshit artist,” she told him. She looked out at the rest of the team and gave a nervous laugh. “Aren't they funny? Just fooling around. Everybody go back to what you were doing.” Beau sidled over to her side and Cass relaxed a little. Beau would get her out of the way if the need arose.

“Who made you her champion?” Cass asked Smith, not looking away from him. He really wanted the answer to that question. “What gives you the right to try to keep us away?”

“Us,”
Smith hissed. “Exactly. That's what gives me the right. You disrespect her and treat like that and wonder why I'm pissing on you?”

“Danny.” She was practically begging him now. “Not here. Not now.”

Cass looked between them. “Then when and where? Because I really want to know.” He looked at Marian. “I deserve to know.”

Smith pushed him away. “You don't deserve shit,” he told him. “The why doesn't matter, and the when is never.”

Beau had pulled Marian aside and was standing with his arm around her. Smith turned on him. Marian shook Beau's arm off and advanced, jabbing her finger in Smith's chest. “You are in so much trouble,” she said from between clenched teeth. She looked around the weight room. “But not here. Get acquainted, find your locker. I expect you to participate in this workout with the team. I will talk to you later.” She turned to Cass. “I can't babysit you two 24/7. So grow up and act like the captain of this team. I'm not a bone that you two dogs get to fight over.”

“Marian,” Cass said angrily.

“No,” she practically shouted. “My life is none of your business unless I choose to make it so. I am not making that choice right now.” She turned and stalked out of the locker room.

Chapter 20

Beau was about to step up and offer to show Smith around, but Jo Jo beat him to it.

“Smith, yo, come on,” Jo Jo said, motioning him away from Cass. Smith walked over and they clasped hands. If Beau remembered correctly they'd played ball together in Detroit for a couple of years.

“How's it going, brother?” Smith asked. Jo Jo let go of his hand, not smiling, which was unlike him.

“I ain't your brother,” he told Smith. “This is a good place. I like it here. He's part of the reason.” He pointed over at Cass. “Everything he does is for this team. We've all got a lot riding on it, man. Don't think we won't shut your superstar ass down if you get in the way of what we're trying to do. Understand?”

The whole room was quiet as everyone watched this exchange. Smith looked around. “They elect you spokesperson?” he asked sarcastically. He focused on Tyler. “What about you, quarterback? You ready to throw away a star running back because I made your center cry?”

Tyler shrugged. “I've got nothing to prove that I can't prove without you. And for the record, I think there are only a few people on the planet who can make Cass cry, and you aren't one of them.”

There were murmurs of laughter and agreement around the room, and Cass smiled smugly at Smith. Before he could start something else, Beau stepped up. “Jo Jo, why don't you show him his locker? The trainers are waiting for you in the back,” he said, addressing Smith directly for the first time. “You don't touch anything until you get a thorough physical. Welcome to the Rebels.”

Smith looked around slowly and met each hostile stare. “Yeah, right,” he said sarcastically. “Welcomed to a team full of losers by a junkie. Great.” Then he followed Jo Jo out of the room.

Beau glared around the room. “Get to work, you pussies,” he said to them, his jaw tight as he tried to ignore Smith's words. “Or do you need a group hug?”

“I'm going to go talk to Marian,” Cass told him quietly, after everyone got back to work and the noise level went up.

Beau needed a minute to figure out how to say what needed to be said; surprisingly, Cass waited, as if he'd been asking permission, or at least Beau's opinion, which was new. He led Cass just outside the weight room and the door shut behind them, giving them some privacy.

“I don't think that's a good idea,” he said, leaning back against the wall. Cass faced him. “Marian is scared.”

“I know that,” Cass agreed.

“Do you?” Beau asked seriously. “You don't act like it. You're trying to railroad her and push her where you want her to go. And that's the problem. She's not afraid of us, but of where this is going between her and us, and maybe between you and me.” Beau didn't blame her. He was scared, too, but he wasn't going to pretend that scene in her office hadn't happened. It was too late for that. “This is new territory for her, for us, for the rest of the world. Because the rest of the world is going to find out. I saw your face earlier when that girl from PR mentioned a video of last night. Maybe they didn't catch us with Marian last night, but they are going to catch us, Cass. Sometime, somewhere. An honest-to-God relationship between the three of us will absolutely make the tabloids. Any woman willing to take on the two most notorious players in the NFL is bound to be newsworthy. And all they have to do is check out that damn sex tape online and they'll know what the three of us are doing and how we're doing it.”

“It wasn't anything like that tape with Marian. It was more,” Cass said quietly.

“True. But you made a good point back there. I want to know what she and Smith are hiding, too. Is it something that could hurt us all if the press gets wind of it? And even if it is, do we care?” Beau shook his head. “If I'm a rock,” he said, “I'm sinking. I'm out of my depth here.”

“Whatever it is, we'll face it and get through it,” Cass said angrily. “I don't care. Don't tell me you do. I know you. I know how you feel about her.” He ran his hand through his hair. “Look, we can go and get her now, take her home and talk about it. She'll tell us what's going on and then we can deal with it.”

“Drag her back to our house, lock her up, and throw away the key?” Beau suggested wryly. “Good idea. She'll go for that.”

“If no one else can get to her, no one else can hurt her,” Cass said, and he sounded so hurt and angry and frustrated that Beau just wanted to touch him, to make everything okay.

“Except us,” he said quietly. “We can hurt her, and we will if we treat her like that. She doesn't want to be rescued, Cass. I think she just wants to be loved.”

“That's all I'm trying to do,” Cass said angrily, his voice rising. “She won't let me, and you keep telling me I'm doing it wrong. What the hell? If I'm not supposed to change, then what am I supposed to do? This is who I am. This is how I deal with shit.”

“No, it's how you've dealt with it in the past, because people put up with your bullshit and let you get your way,” Beau said, finally unleashing his own temper. “You barrel through life like a bull in a china shop, and for whatever reason, people just clean up behind you. I'm not going to clean this one up, Cass. Don't break it. Don't break her.”
Don't break me,
he thought, but didn't say it.

“If I'm so awful,” Cass said angrily, crossing his arms, “then why are you still here?”

“Because you're not awful,” Beau said, exasperated. “You're spoiled. That's different.”

“Are you saying I'm some prima donna, like Smith?” Cass asked incredulously.

“Fuck,” Beau yelled in frustration. “No. I would never say that. Don't you get it? I've been in love with you for years.
Years,
Cass. I've followed you around like a puppy dog. Maybe I leaned on you so much for support so that you wouldn't leave me.” He shook his head, furious at himself for revealing so much here. This wasn't the way it was supposed to go down. “I've seen you at your best, Cass,” he said a little more quietly. “You've taken care of me when I was at my worst. You were never impatient with me, you were never mean or spiteful. You could have mentioned cleaning up my messes a minute ago, and you didn't. Maybe what Marian needs right now is that Cass. The bull in the china shop has his uses, too. But not right now. Not in this.”

Cass stood there gaping at him. “I knew you wanted me,” he blurted out. “I mean, you know, what just happened and other stuff. I've known. For a while. But you love me?” He looked up and down the hallway. “And you tell me here?”

“I've got terrible timing,” Beau said wryly. “I know.” He waved his hand. “Forget it. It's not important. Let's focus on Marian right now.”

“Fuck, no, we're not going to focus on Marian right now,” Cass whispered harshly. “You don't say something like that and then wave it off. It's not a minor penalty, for Christ's sake. You love me.” The last was said with amazement. “Why?”

“I'm beginning to wonder,” Beau said, straightening from the wall. Cass pushed him back with one hand on his shoulder and stepped in close.

“I'll tell you why,” Cass said quietly. Beau's stomach tightened at the rough timbre in his voice. “Because I know what you need. I give it to you, and I'll keep giving it to you until you get all that you want. I know you, Beau. I know you inside and out. And I've stayed with you because I love you so much I can't stand the thought of ever leaving you. Sharing women and sex was a way to have you, to be closer to you. It started out as a way to give you something that would replace the drugs and the loneliness. But somewhere along the way it became about the two of us. And now it's about Marian, too.” He put his hand on the side of Beau's head, holding it almost the way he would a football, a rough, possessive hold. “Before Marian, neither of us had the guts to take the next step. I don't know why it's her, why she's the key, but she is. What we have together is better, richer, stronger because of what she's brought to it.” He pressed their foreheads together. “Make no mistake, I want this. I want us. With Marian.”

“With Marian,” Beau agreed, choked up at Cass's honesty and naked emotion.

Cass sealed the promise with a kiss. Right there in the hallway. A rough, hard kiss, forcing Beau's mouth open and taking possession of it. He tasted salty and citrusy, like Gatorade, and just so…Cass. Beau had gotten a hint of it from kissing women after him, but this was straight from the bottle. Ninety-proof Cass. He held Beau's head in both of his hands and owned him right there. Beau grabbed the back of his shirt and let him have what had already been his for a very long time.

It was over too soon. The sound of someone cursing loudly broke through the haze and then Cass was pulling away. Beau's lips felt bruised and overly sensitive, a bit raw from Cass's beard. It was the strangest sensation he'd ever felt.

“What the fuck?” Rebels tackle Dominique Reyes stood a few feet away glaring at them. “I knew you two were fucking fairies, but word was you kept it out of the locker room. This shit is not cool. I did not sign up to be on the NFL's token gay team.”

“We're not in the locker room,” Cass growled at him. “And we are not fucking fairies, asshole.”

“Yeah?” Reyes said with sneer. “Well, I don't tongue fuck my buddies, Zielinski. Shit, man,” he said, shaking his head. “Now I can't even shower here, motherfuckers. Ain't getting naked with damn faggots in the locker room.”

“You get naked with me in the locker room.” Tyler was standing just outside the weight room window, blocking most of the view for those still inside. Beau wasn't sure how long he'd been there. “Everyone knows I like dick.”

“Don't think that don't creep me the fuck out, man,” Reyes said. “But you're too tiny to take my ass.”

“I don't want your ass,” Tyler said with a curl of his lip. “No worries.”

“Ditto,” Beau said, finding his voice again.

“Sure,” Reyes said, clearly not believing a word they said. “That's what all the faggots say.”

“You've certainly got a high opinion of your ass,” Tyler said.

“It's out of the locker room,” Cass said, and his tone shut the conversation down. “Go do your circuits and rest assured your ass is safe in the shower.”

Reyes gave them all a wide berth as he stomped past them into the weight room, muttering to himself. He was another new addition to the team and didn't have many friends here yet. Actually he didn't have many friends, period. His history was clouded with stints in juvie and gang connections. Beau hoped that meant he'd keep his mouth shut. There were other guys on the team—hell, in the league—who wouldn't be too happy with this development either. Better they find out later rather than sooner. Plus, he didn't want it to get back to Marian before they had a chance to talk some more.

“Trust me on this, guys,” Tyler said, smiling at them. “You want to take this somewhere else. Guys tend to get a little freaked out when they see two players making out.”

“We will definitely take this somewhere else,” Cass said, staring right into Beau's eyes. “Later.” Beau shivered in anticipation at the promise.

BOOK: Broken Play
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