Page 40 of Broken Play (The O’Ryan Family #1)

FORTY

SUTTON

Miami. Tennis. My best friend. My nerves buzz as I confess to Anna that I told Greyson I love him—then panic hits. My wrist is bare. My lucky gold tennis racquet bracelet is missing.

Where's my tennis bracelet? And why haven’t I noticed?

Did I lose it at the waterfall? Did it fall off at Greyson's house?

"You said those three giant words? And he said them too?" Anna screams as she adjusts her leg under her butt in the chair. "Then you had I'm-tearing-your-clothes-off-with-my-teeth sex?"

"No, we drove home in silence, holding hands."

"The stars brought you together. Think about it. His last name is O'Ryan, which comes from the Orion constellation. It's fate. It has to be. How else does someone go from playing tennis to being the general manager of the football team he plays for?"

I blow a puff of air. "It helps when your dad buys the said team."

"It's weird. Do you think your dad saw those media photos? Like he was trying to get you together? Just because we didn't see them, being overseas, doesn't mean your dad didn't recognize you."

The thought hadn't crossed my mind. Biting down on my lip, my eyes scrunch. "Spending hundreds of millions on a team just to get his daughter face-to-face with a man from a nightclub...doubtful." But the thought tumbles in my brain.

Greyson is so much more than a football player. He doesn't see what everyone else sees: a man who wants to take away everyone's pain. Paulina is a prime example; he wants to give her a special memory to distract her from the sadness she's feeling about her grandparents.

He's the man who defended me in front of millions of people, if you include the television broadcast.

He's competitive, yes. But he's also a good friend to his teammates. The more time he spends with them, the more they love him. Last week, I even caught him talking on the phone with Stricker, and it wasn't about football.

"Sutty?"

"Hmm?"

"You zoned out on me. Are you considering it as a possibility?"

"Sorry, just thinking about Greyson." I can't tell Anna that Greyson's keeping a secret from me because if he tells me and then she asks, I don't want to lie to her. And he needs to trust me. I could be all wrong. God, I hope I am.

The handsome QB and I have talked endlessly on the phone for the past week, but neither of us has been able to sneak away for sugary kisses or Tabasco nights. So, I packed up and flew to Miami to watch Anna in her first tournament since the accident.

"About what? Those hot-as-hell arms? Those perfect lips?" She laughs, fanning her face.

"No." Where's my bracelet?

"Were you thinking about his...?"

My eyes narrow, possessive and territorial. "No. And you better not be, either."

"I'm so happy for you. When are you going public with the relationship?"

I lift my shoulders and blow out a deep breath. "I don't know. He wants to tell the world, but... it doesn't look good for the manager and quarterback to be dating."

"Sutty, if he doesn't care, you shouldn't."

She's right. But if he doesn't trust me with his secrets, can I trust him with my heart?

"I know. It's complicated."

"It's not, Sutty. He's not Bodhi, and honestly, Bodhi has been there for me. I really think he's changing."

I arch a brow at the thought. "Speaking of which, is Bodhi here... at the tournament?"

Her lids close and slowly open. "Yeah. And since he doesn't think you're seeing anyone, he probably wants to talk." Anna's voice cracks, and I swear I think she's hiding something from me or not giving me the full truth.

It's Anna's comeback tourney, and there's no way I would miss it.

I would have thought twice about it had I known Bodhi was going to be here.

I checked the tournament draw before I left, and he wasn't listed, but, of course, he shows up because he knows I would be here.

It's disheartening to know that "the incident" didn't sway his fans.

Yes, it was talked about, but his public apology filled them with sympathy for him. .. not me.

Greyson and the Armadillos are playing in Minnesota, where I should be cheering on my guy and my team. Luck isn't on my side. The Armadillos play at the same time as Anna's match.

Francisco taps on the wall. "We should head over."

Anna grabs my hands, and we stand at the same time. She hands me my credentials. I'll have a quick interview with the Tour Tennis Channel, and then head to Anna's box.

On the way, I tap out a message to Greyson, knowing he won't get it until at least halftime. Once he's in the zone and the headphones are off, he doesn't check his phone.

Get in the red zone. If you don't, I'll have to find a new number ten.

It's flirty and will make him crazy with possessiveness.

If they're down at halftime, it will give him the motivation to throw for touchdowns.

If they're up, he'll be grinning, grateful that sexy times are coming his way.

Just kidding. I don't bribe him with sex if we win.

But he is a winner, so I'm good with it.

The driver drops off Anna and Francisco near the locker room entrance and stops for me in front of the broadcasting trailer.

Two of my favorite tennis stars ask me questions about my new career, Anna, and, of course, allude to Bodhi.

Since I can't say anything about dating Greyson, I say, "I'm sorry, as always, I don't talk about my personal life.

" I want to say a million awful things about Bodhi—about how he changed from being a wholesome, handsome tennis prodigy to an abusive partner—but again, I fight to keep everything hidden.

I find my seat in Anna's team box. The seats in front of me are taken by her coaches and trainers.

Several people ask for my autograph, and reluctantly, I sign my name.

Today is about Anna, not me. I take my seat, fish my sunglasses from my purse, and arrange them on my face.

Anna's warming up as Francisco and a friend slip into the box, but when Francisco steps aside, it's my ex—and, judging from the crowd's eruption, their favorite tennis player ever.

He pulls me into his arms, and the ground swells; the roar is so loud. Kissing my cheek, he whispers, "This is how it should be."

How can these people still love him? The world is twisted.

My elbow digs into his waist, pushing him off without anyone knowing. I give the crowd a tight-lipped smile, realizing the cameras are on us. I can't believe tennis fans still love him after seeing the video of him shoving me at the football game.

Through gritted teeth, I ask, "Why are you here... in Anna's box?"

"If you remember, I got her to the hospital. I've been the one cheering her on while you were playing businesswoman."

My head whips around. "Playing?" I sneer.

His beautiful face gets uglier every time I see him.

Noelle told me that her mom used to tell her when she was little, "Pretty is as pretty does.

" I thought it was a funny Southern saying, but now I understand the meaning of it.

Bodhi is gorgeous, but his actions border on demonic when cameras aren't flashing.

"Come on, Sutton. Travel with me. It'll be like old times: me and you, Anna, and this guy."

I don't answer him. I don't look at him .

My eyes focus on Anna. My heart focuses on Greyson.

Bodhi pats my leg, whispers in my ear, nudges my elbow, and puts his arm around my chair. Not once do I acknowledge any of this. Anna looks into our box, getting some tips from her coach, but something isn't right. Maybe she's not ready to come back.

Anna barely wins against an opponent forty spots lower in the rankings, but in my eyes, it's quite an accomplishment.

She's way ahead of her recovery schedule.

She loves her doctors in the States. We stand and clap, which is basically required sportsmanship.

Bodhi scoots back like the gentleman he pretends to be, letting me pass in front of him.

His hand is on my back, and I keep shaking my shoulder so he'll stop.

In true Bodhi form, he doesn't care that I don't want him touching me.

When we're out of the fans' view, I spin toward him. "What's your problem? I'm taken, so now you want me?" It feels like I'm shooting nails from my mouth; my words are so sharp.

"Taken, really?" He flashes me his saccharine smile. I don't know why I said that out loud. I am taken, but nobody can know, at least not until I talk to Greyson. "And who is this mysterious boyfriend of yours?"

"None of your business."

"Is it the quarterback who came to your defense? You can do better than someone who works for you."

I fight back every instinct to tell him that the only thing he and Greyson have in common is that they make millions per year. The rest is opposite-land. Greyson is caring, romantic, funny, and adventurous. I mean, Bodhi never nailed me against a locker room door .

"Bodhi, I've tried keeping this civil. If you come any closer to me, I'll file a restraining order against you. Something I should have done years ago." I shake my head, tears threatening to fall. "I don't think your fans want to know the entire story."

His eyes narrow, calculating if I'm telling the truth. Then he says, "Tell Anna she played well. If she needs more instruction, I'm glad to fill in." He shoots me a wink that's more of a dare than a flirtation.

Strutting away like he's on the runway of a Mr. Universe pageant, he waves at fans, occasionally signing autographs. Bodhi leaves an impression, and his words have me wondering what he meant about Anna. Has he been coaching her? If so, why wouldn't she tell me?

After a quick hug, I tell Anna that I'm needed back in Austin before I leave for a meeting in Seattle with a giant tech company that wants to partner.

I check with Marlon, and the team is supposed to land at the airport at nine, so I rearrange my charter flight for Austin instead of Seattle. I need to talk to Greyson.

I'm on the tarmac and waiting.

The team jogs down the ten steps. One by one, I congratulate them on their win. Greyson still hasn't gotten off. Finally, J.D. exits along with the quarterbacks coach, Matt Stricker. "Good game, coaches." I look around, and a bad feeling crawls up my spine. "Did I miss our QB?"

J.D. purses his lips, and Coach Stricker clears his throat. "Ms. Anders, Greyson stayed behind. Said he'll be back at practice on Tuesday."

A sinking feeling settles in my gut. "Oh. Well, congratulations. We make a good team, right? "

They nod. "We do... but, Sutton, Greyson takes everything seriously. Especially losses."

My brows dip in confusion. "We won."

"We did, but not because of Greyson."

"Sorry, I was with Anna at her match."

"We saw that. Glad she's back on the court," J.D. says. "Are you still going to Seattle?"