Page 93 of Broken Play
"No. You have an obligation to the team, and nothing will happen. You stay here and take care of our mess."
Sighing deeply into the phone, he says, "Okay, but I'm sure the boss would understand." He tries to laugh, but it dies on his tongue.
"The only way this works is if we have firm boundaries."
"So, no more locker room rendezvous?" he teases.
I smile but forget that he can't see me. "Does Witt have any more information on who sent the video?"
"No, not yet. Don't worry. It was just me in the video. Sure, I look like I'm fucking air, but I wouldn't change anything that has happened between us. The guys have been relentless, but I just keep drilling the ball into their chests. Oh, and Noelle isn't posting today."
"Maybe she could post you with another woman."
"No, boss, I couldn't be in love with anyone but you. Will I see you late tonight? I know you have a lot on your mind."
How could anyone resist the smooth-talking football player? Yet I do. "No, I have to pack for Paulina's tournament, and I want to go to the mall and buy her a dress for the funeral."
"Call me when you get a chance. I need to run routes. I was a little rusty in Sunday's game."
It amazes me how he thinks any little mistake is on him when it's a team game. It's as if he thinks he's playing an individual sport. "You led the team to victory, which had to be difficult, pushing all of this out of your mind to concentrate on the game."
"Years of training. Redham is really coming along, and Stricker is coming over for dinner tonight and to watch college football. A rare Thursday night game between our alma maters."
"I'll call you before bed. Paulina may stay with me tonight if I get approval. I hope I can get guardianship of her or something."
"You will. Give her a hug for me."
"I love you, Greyson O'Ryan."
"Love you, babe."
FIFTY-ONE
GREYSON
I'm missing Sutton. She took Paulina to her grandparents' funeral, which was low-key, with about twenty people. Sutton said they pinched Paulina's cheeks, gave her hugs, and told her stories that made her feel better.
Paulina's tennis tournament starts today, and there's a part of me that hopes she loses so they come home, which is totally selfish... I know.
With the time difference, Sutton and I haven't talked in a few days. Instead, she sends me texts and photos of Paulina's matches. So, when I get a text in the middle of the night, I grab my phone. When I see a notification from an unknown number, something cold and unwelcome crawls beneath my skin.
I press the voicemail icon on my phone, and it's a message that sounds like it's going through a filter, someone changing their voice with artificial intelligence—distorted and scratchy. The message is simple. "Don't fuck with me, or Sutton's reputation will be shattered."
My gut twists as I listen again. For once, there's nothinghidden between the lines. The blackmailer is letting me know that he'll get what he wants or ruin Sutton.
After a couple of hours of staring at my phone, a new post from Noelle appears. It's the photo of Sutton and me at the waterfall, faceless since our backs are turned.
So happy for my brother for finding his one true love. If only we could all have what they do.
Underneath, the comments read:
What a gorgeous photo. Professional?
Nothing better than looking at Mother Nature with the one you love.
Which brother?
Holy shit. Greyson O'Ryan is off the market.
