Page 44 of Broken Play
Greyson runs his hand through his messy hair, and I've noticed he does it when he's confronted with an unsettling fact. It's quiet except for the rustling of leaves through the open window, with the morning sun slipping through the branches overhead. Wearing an unwavering expression and determination in his eyes, he says as confidently as he throws a fifty-yard pass between two defenders, "Sutton, I've been doing this a long time—I know how many people are depending on me. No one wants to be the best more than I do, but I will not call you a distraction. In fact, I bet I'll play better when I'm as happy off the field as I am when I'm on it."
I let out a shaky breath, taking a minute to stare out the window, my hands fidgeting in my lap. "Greyson, I want to believe you; I really do. But what if we both mess this up? This is the first time I've done anything other than tennis, and I want to make my dad proud. What if... it doesn't work out and we see each other every day and..." My voice cracks a little at the end, betraying just how scared I am to hope.
"You know what I think? I think you're scared." He beams that lopsided, troublemaker's smile that makes me feel like a schoolgirl. "I've got a proposal. We date—off the grid, far from prying eyes—and keep this between us until I can prove that I can perform under any circumstances. You enjoyed last night's performance, as I recall, especially when you creamed on my face."
"You think highly of yourself, don't ya?" I tease, and I feel my cheeks burning with embarrassment—Bodhi never dirty-talked. It's both arousing and embarrassing.
His eyes crinkle, and he gives me a slow, flirtatious wink as he says, "Guess you'll have to stick around and see if I deserve it. Do we have a deal?"
My answer is a quiet nod and an amused roll of my eyes, which makes his grin even wider. He hooks an arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his lap just like last night. A move that sends my body craving more. Greyson O'Ryan makes me forget I ever had a relationship with Bodhi Creed. When he kisses me—soft and certain—I melt right into it. There is no saying no to this man. He's everything I need.
He starts the truck again and drives us down the winding country road toward the city where my abandoned car and, apparently, our next chapter are waiting.
TWENTY-THREE
GREYSON
Instead of going straight home, I figure it will be safer to go to Dad's house and have breakfast with my family. I respond to J.D.'s text and tell him where I am. I don't want him breaking into my house and finding Sutton's phone.
When I walk into the kitchen, Dad and Noelle are preparing breakfast. Dad says, "Someone's happy."
"Just feels good to be having Sunday lunch with the family. Remember how Sunday was always family day? No games or practices. Just church, food, and family." My mind wanders to how I went to college hundreds of miles away, acting like nothing had ever happened, as if my heart hadn't been shredded like Waffle House hash browns. Tiny pieces of my heart were left, and I had to figure out how to put them all back together. "Why do you think I'mhappy?"
Noelle pipes up. "You're whistling; that's why."
Am I?
Shrugging my shoulders, I try to play it cool, but I can feel a smile tugging at my lips.
"I guess that song got stuck in my head on the way over."
Dad has never been the one to ask pointed questions; that was Mom's department. He gives me an omniscient glance, and I know that he sees right through me but doesn't say a word. Noelle, on the other hand, says, "Did you get lucky last night?" Clearly, she's not buying my casual act. She reminds me of my mom—so open and wearing her heart on her sleeve.
"Do we have blueberries?" I ask, attempting to change the subject. I shoot Noelle a look that says,if you want me to keep your secrets, you'd better get on board.
Judging by her smirk, she's still thinking about it. "Nope, it's chocolate and strawberries today. They're both aphrodisiacs, you know."
She pops one in her mouth as Witt finally speaks. "Gross." That's the only word he says.
Birdie sits on the bar stool next to Witt and gives him a fat kiss on the cheek. "How's my favorite brother?" He acts disgusted, but I see the corners of his lips tug upward.
"Hey, I thought I was your favorite," I joke. I mean, I really thought I was, but she loves having a big family. And for the first time, I wonder what it would be like to bring a girlfriend to Sunday breakfast.
"I love you, G, but have you seen your little brother? When school starts this week, he's going to be swatting girls like flies. He's the cutest," Birdie claims, fawning all over my little brother.
J.D. strides in, his feet thudding against the floor. "Okay, that's enough. G, can we talk in the living room?"
"Nope. I'm hungry."
Noelle plays mom. "John David wants to talk to you about your knight-in-shining-armor routine at the game. If aman blew off his football game to come save me, I would... I would fall in love." She's swooning.
I turn to Noelle and gently grip her shoulders, looking straight into her eyes. My voice comes out soft but adamant. "Noelle, if someone ever hurt you, I would want your boyfriend—or any friend you have—to drop everything and come help you, no matter what. That's what real friends do. You deserve nothing less; do you hear me?"
She looks up at me with our mom's eyes, and it's hard to stare without feeling the loss all over again. Shaking her head, she simply says, "Yes."
"Do you think Brooks would leave a football game to come to your aid? Because if you don't think he would, then you need to break up with him. Don't waste your time on the wrong person."
J.D. says, "G is right, but this is about more than you leaving the game."
