Broken Play (5 page)

Marian turned and looked at Cass and then Beau. Cass felt like a deer in the headlights. “Um, yeah. Hey, Tyler,” Beau said.

Tyler came up and hugged Marian from behind. “Hey, you! They wanted me to come over so you didn't think they were ganging up on you or anything.” He pulled away and smiled at her. “I'm too pretty to be threatening.” As far as Cass was concerned, he
was
too damn pretty, with his blond surfer looks. But Cass wasn't worried. Marian had shown zero romantic interest in the notorious flirt. Ty's sexual escapades were almost as well-known as Cass's and Beau's. As one of the only openly bisexual players in the NFL, he was always under scrutiny. He'd chosen the shameless-whore route instead of pretending to be searching for a monogamous relationship.

“You wanted him to come over so I didn't feel uncomfortable?” she asked, sounding choked up. Damn Tyler and his big mouth. What Cass had actually told Tyler was to come over and act like it was a surprise, and he was just dropping by. How could a brilliant quarterback who could memorize a hundred-page playbook not remember a simple plan?

“It isn't that big a deal,” Cass grumbled. “He lives two doors down. Close the damn door,” he told Tyler, rather than answering Marian's question.

Now it was Tyler's turn to look uncomfortable. “The thing is,” he started to say, and then another voice spoke from the doorway.

“Hey, Cass,” Tom Kelly said, sauntering in. “Are we having Chinese?”

Cass glared at Tyler, but the quarterback looked unimpressed. “The rookie was hanging out at my house. I thought I'd bring him along.”

“Whoa,” Tom said, halting and putting both hands up in front of him. “I can go. I don't want to intrude.” He spun around and headed back for the front door.

“Hold it,” Cass called out with a sigh of resignation. “Stay. We have enough.”

He'd invited Tyler over because he knew he had a few kinks and if things went that way with Marian, Tyler could be counted on to join in, watch, or leave without judgment. But Tom was young, just out of college. No way were he and Tyler fooling around. He was big, and looked like he could eat a Honda, but with his buzz-cut hair and dimples he exuded a kid-next-door innocence that meant there'd be no messing around tonight. And even thinking that, not to mention being disappointed about it, made Cass feel like an A-number-one asshole. He caught Beau's eye and Beau just shrugged. He'd come to the same realization that Cass had, apparently, but Beau tended to be more philosophical about these things.

Tom grabbed a plate and started to climb up on the table. “What the hell are you doing?” Cass asked. Tom froze.

“I thought we were sitting on the table,” Tom said slowly. “Wrong again?”

“Wrong again,” Cass said, pointing to a chair.

Tyler pulled out a chair and sat down and started to empty out the crispy duck container. “Why do you guys get to sit on the table?” he asked.

“It's a thing,” Beau told him.

“Are you guys a thing?” Tom asked in obvious confusion, waving his fork around to point at the three of them.

“No,” Marian answered quickly and emphatically. Cass just took a bite of duck and stared at her. Beau didn't say anything either.

“Ooookay,” said Tom. “Whatever.”

“They were just helping me look for a house today,” Marian explained, casually spooning more fried rice onto her overflowing plate.

“How do you lose a house?” Tom asked. It took a moment for Cass to realize he was joking. Tom looked so damn serious he'd almost missed the twinkle in the kid's eyes.

“What?” Marian asked, looking equally horrified and confused, as if she just couldn't believe Tom was that stupid.

“You know women,” Beau said, playing along. “Always losing something.”

Marian tossed down her fork in indignation. “Hey! I did not lose a house.”

“Then why are you looking for one?” Tom asked, all innocent confusion.

Tyler blew it. He broke up laughing and then Tom lost it, too.

Marian started laughing. “Oh, God. I can't believe I fell for that.”

“How young and stupid do you all really think I am?” Tom asked. His tone was light, but Cass sensed some insecurity behind his question. With chagrin he realized that maybe his doubts about signing Tom to the Rebels hadn't been as well hidden as he'd thought. And maybe some others on the team had picked up on that. He glanced over at Tyler, who was looking at him expectantly. Trust Tyler to pick up on all of that and set things straight.

“Stupid enough to eat the rest of the crispy duck,” Cass said casually. He grabbed his phone from off the table and tossed it to Tom, who caught it awkwardly. “Hunan Province,” he told him. “Under
P
. And you're paying this time.”

“Wait a minute,” Tom said, frowning. He pointed the phone at Tyler. “He finished the crispy duck.”

“Not so stupid after all,” Cass said with a grin.

“More egg rolls,” Marian demanded. Cass saw her wink at Tom. “I'm eating my feelings over my lost house.”

Beau laughed out loud and they all joined him while Tyler ordered more food.

“So, do you guys have any ideas to get the Rebels more press coverage?” Marian asked. “The head office wants more of what Beau gave them.” She looked relaxed and happy and Cass realized that inviting Tyler over tonight might have been the best play he'd made all day.

Cass slammed the locker-room door open with a flat palm and Beau winced when it hit the wall. “If that motherfucker doesn't get his ass here pronto, I'm going to serve it to him on a plate. He won't even return my calls. What am I supposed to do with that?”

The locker room had gone quiet when Cass stormed in, and Beau rolled his eyes at Cass's dramatics. “Not cool, bro,” he whispered. “You want to sink his chances with the team before he even gets here?”

“You're the one who called him a prima donna on cable TV,” Cass growled. “Not me.”

Beau was so sick of hearing about that interview that he wished he'd never opened his big, fat mouth. Except the part about the Rebels bringing trouble to your fucking door. That part was good. He liked that. “I was pissed off at the reporters and all the bullshit,” he snapped. “You know that. I took it out on Smith. We've all been where he is. He was blindsided by this trade, salary cap or no. He expected the Ravens to fight to keep him. It was a blow from left field. He'll get over it. He's a pro.”

“I don't know much about his situation,” Tom offered from where he stood in front of his locker. He slipped his arms into his T-shirt and pulled it over his head. “Maybe none of us do. There could be shit going down we don't know about. Right?”

“Marian said the same thing,” Cass growled. “I don't care if he's got his own shit. He needs to deal with it on his own time and quit wasting ours.”

“Amen, brother,” Jo Jo said. “Preach. No offense, but the young Jedi there shouldn't be our only running back.”

“Fuck you, Yoda,” Tom said mildly. “I can handle it.”

“You shouldn't have to,” Cass argued, ripping his shirt off. He tossed it into his locker and grabbed his practice shirt. “He was hired to do a job. He needs to show some professionalism and do it. He acts like he doesn't even want to play football. If he doesn't want to play, then what the fuck, man? Why is he even in the NFL in the first place?”

“What's all the yelling about?” Marian asked. She stood in the doorway, one hand holding the door open, a frown on her face. She wore an all-white shorts-and-polo outfit today. Beau liked her in white. It made her hair look like melted gold against her shirt. Tyler came up behind her and laid his chin on her shoulder. She let out an undignified squeak and jumped a mile high before she threw her back against the door and looked frantically from side to side. Cass didn't like that at all and took a couple of steps toward them, a scary-as-shit look on his face. Beau grabbed his arm.

“He didn't mean to scare her,” Beau said quickly.

“Hell, no, man,” Tyler said. “Sorry, Marian.” He held both empty hands out in front of him as if he were surrendering. “I thought you heard me coming.”

“Hey, are you okay?” Tom asked starting to walk over to Marian.

“I'm fine,” she said, a little too loudly. She was pissed, but she was also breathing heavy and her hand was on her chest, as if her heart were racing. “He just surprised me, that's all. I don't like surprises.”

“Like the guy in that commercial,” Jo Jo said, laughing. “The one who jumps and squeaks just like that when he opens the door to his surprise party.” Some of the other guys in the locker room laughed, too, and the tension was broken.

“Do not, on pain of death, ever throw me a surprise party,” Marian said, pointing at him. “I mean it.”

“No, ma'am,” Jo Jo said. “Not me.”

“If you're dead, can you feel the pain?” Tom asked thoughtfully. Marian glared at him. “Just weighing my options,” Tom said, going back to his locker.

“Now, why was Cass yelling? Again?” Marian asked, smoothing her polo across her flat stomach. Beau frowned when he noticed her hand shaking a bit.

“Danny Smith,” Beau told her, knowing it would take everyone's mind off Marian's overreaction.

Marian put a hand to her forehead and closed her eyes. “Again? Seriously? Can't you let the head office worry about Smith and focus on playing football? Would that be too much trouble, Mr. Zielinski?”

Oh, man, she was going to push Cass too far. Beau wasn't sure if he should intervene. He'd sort of started it, making it open season on Smith with that interview. Cass had a right to be pissed. They all did. But he could see Marian's point, too.

“That's what I'd like to do,” Cass said from between clenched teeth. “But it's pretty hard to learn the playbook and scrimmage without your star running back.”

“I'm doing all right,” Tyler said affably from his locker. He'd sauntered over, making a wide berth around Marian when he came through the door. “It's Smith who's going to be playing catch-up. Ha!” He looked around the locker room with a grin. “Did you get that? The running back playing catch-up?”

“Don't quit your day job,” Beau said absently. He was watching Cass and Marian closely. If they went head-to-head, should he let them go at each other? It could ruin whatever it was that they'd started. A few weeks ago, Beau wouldn't have worried about that. He would have been glad about it. But now…now that he'd spent time with Marian. He liked her. He maybe more than liked her. If Cass walked away, Beau wasn't so sure he'd follow his play, which was unnerving. Beau always followed Cass's lead. He felt a little unsteady at the implications. Cass had always been the only one he really wanted. But Marian made him feel like his old self again. Actually, better than his old self, stronger and smarter, and like he was somebody.

Staying with Marian could cause him problems, problems he'd been avoiding ever since that damn sex tape came out. He was high profile right now. That could change on a dime; the press was notoriously fickle. But if it didn't? If they got wind of what was happening between him, Cass, and Marian? It would be all over the news, and not just the sports news. Did he want to go through that again? Was Marian worth it? His head hurt just trying to think it all through.

Marian pressed two fingers to her forehead. Her head was throbbing. Tyler had scared the living daylights out of her. She was still recovering from that and she was pissed, mostly at herself for letting something so stupid scare her so much. She'd thought she was over that stupid shit; over letting someone's innocent actions cause a panic attack. And now Cass was going after Danny again. God, she wanted to tell him about Danny. But she wasn't going to. There was so much more to it than what Danny had done for her. Implications that could sink Danny, despite the fact she owed him everything.

Cass didn't even know she knew him, for Christ's sake.

“Just leave Danny Smith to us,” she snapped. “You learn the damn playbook and play some fucking football and worry about your own ass.” Her outburst was met with stunned silence in the locker room and Cass's burning, angry glare. Before anyone said a word to her, she turned and stalked off.

She didn't get far. A hand grabbed her arm and spun her around and she came out swinging. Cass put a hand up and her fist met his palm. He promptly closed his hand around hers, effectively holding her captive.

“What the hell was that about?” he demanded angrily. “That wasn't just about Danny Smith.”

“Yeah, maybe it was,” she countered. “Maybe I'm sick of my offensive captain trash-talking our newest player acquisition and second-guessing the head office. You're tanking this team with your attitude, and you know it.”

Cass looked like he'd been sucker punched and Marian felt a stab of regret. She was taking her own guilt out on Cass. She should speak up. She should tell him, and Mike and the rest of the team that she and Danny went way back, back to a time they were both trying to forget. If Cass picked up her phone and scrolled through her contacts he'd find Danny's name under Favorites. Danny had saved her that awful night and suffered the consequences for it. He'd blamed himself for some stupid reason, and he'd taken on the role of her protector. He always made sure she had all his numbers, texted her if he was going to be out of reach, and generally made a nuisance of himself. She hadn't actually seen him in six years, though, and he didn't know she was in Birmingham. He would have warned her against the job. If he knew she was here, she had no doubt he'd be on the next plane. But she didn't want to take advantage of his misplaced guilt and protective feelings. She had the power to bring him here, and she wasn't using it for her own selfish reasons, trying to put off the inevitable. She was the one tanking this team, not Cass.

“Look,” she said, starting to apologize, “I'm sorry.”

“No,” Cass interrupted. “I'm sorry.” He released her hand and stepped back. “You're right. If Smith shows and plays up to his potential, he's a franchise player. He can make or break us. But if I pit the team against him before he even shows, then that's on me.” He shook his head, a look of disgust on his face. “I should know better. But I'm too impatient. I know this team has what it takes to make it, and I know Danny Smith can help us get there. I want him here yesterday because I want to start right now. I want to start at the finish. I've always been too much like that. Too impatient.”

“Oh, Cass,” she said, putting her hand on his arm. “That's not true. Well, okay, it is. You are impatient. But I get that. I get that you're anxious to see this team finally come together and play the way we know they can. But you have to trust me. And Mike. Let us deal with Danny Smith.” She felt sick about her lies, and yanked her hand away from his arm. She felt dirty. The feeling made her grit her teeth and she clenched her fist at her side. She hadn't felt that way in a very long time and she'd sworn she wouldn't let herself believe it again. But this was different. This time she was the one in the wrong. And she just couldn't bring herself to tell him.

“Why are you afraid to come in the locker room?” Cass asked quietly.

She was blindsided by his question and stumbled back a step or two. “What? What are you talking about?”

“You know what I'm talking about,” Cass said with quiet intensity. “Tell me, Marian. What's going on?”

“I'm having a bad day and it's getting worse,” she said, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Do you think we're not working on the Danny Smith issue? That your thoughtless accusations aren't making it worse? That we don't have the corporation on our backs?”

“The owners are getting involved?” Cass said incredulously. It was a well-known fact that the Rebels had been bought by an obscure megacorporation that very few people had ever heard of, despite the fact it owned everything from gas stations to high-rise hotels, and pulled in a few hundred billion a year. What most people didn't know was that the company had simply seen the football franchise as another investment opportunity. They treated it like any other business. They put people in charge of the different operations—coach, president, marketing—and they walked away. They'd given the team ten years to turn a profit. They had eight of those years left. Down here in the trenches, they almost never heard from the corporate office except at tax time. Mike had nearly had another heart attack when he'd gotten a call from the president of the board of directors this morning.

Marian knew her time was running out. She'd have to come clean and beg Danny to come to Birmingham. Then people would ask questions. They'd want to know how she knew him, and then the lies would start. She was so tired of lying about what had happened.

“I have to get back to my office,” she said, shaking off Cass's attempt to stop her again. “I don't have time for this, or you, right now.” She turned and walked away before he could see how truly upset she was, because she meant what she'd said. She and Cass, and wherever Beau fit into that, or them—she didn't have time for it. And she definitely didn't have the nerve to go after it again.