BWWM Interracial Romance 5: Love After Halftime by Elena Brown Page A

no idea. Perhaps because she didn’t want to let him down that way.
    “Hey,” he said, half-growl, half-low murmur, as always. “You’re early. Thought we were meeting at Dino’s Steakhouse at seven?”
    “Yeah, about that…”
    “Not again, Merl,” he groaned as, nervous and anxious, Marlene winced at the nickname.
    “This is the second time this month we’ve tried to set something up,” he said.
    She sighed, unwilling to tell another fib that night. “Joe, I could lie and tell you it was mid-terms, but… Tina just showed up and I’ve blown her off for Girls Night three weeks running and…”
    His lazy chuckle accentuated the irony of their predicament. “So, let me get this straight: you’re standing me up for… my ex-wife?”
    She was about to dispute his argument but, in point of fact, it was the truth! “Listen—don’t make me feel bad. If you hadn’t divorced her, Joe, I could go out with both of you at the same time. Like the old days, remember?”
    “Yeah, well,” he growled impatiently, “I did divorce her, and it’s not like the old days, and I need you, too, you know? How you gonna do me like this?”
    “I can’t do this right now, Joe,” Marlene grunted with frustration, knowing Tina was growing impatient downstairs in the parking lot of Emerson College. “I can’t. Tina’s waiting and, you know… I feel weird being in the middle of you guys like this. I’ve known you longer, it’s true, but you introduced me to Tina before your wedding and now I’ve been friends with her for years. How can I just—”
    “What’s that sound?” he asked as she approached the main lobby.
    “That would be your ex-wife honking for my ass!” Marlene said before quickly hanging up.
     
     
     
    * * * * *
     
     
    Joe Hinkson groaned as he peeled his eyelids open, one by one. The late Tuesday morning sun filtered harshly through the blinds of his penthouse apartment, making him growl and roll over. He hugged his pillow, wishing it was the curvy redhead he’d met at the bar last night after the game, wondering what had happened to chase her away.
    A crooked smile curled across his lips as he reached down to scratch himself. Suddenly he remembered who stole the curvy ginger away: his teammate and professional poon hound, Brad Steltzer!
    He rolled onto his back, chuckling, and wishing it didn’t sound so loud in his hung-over brain. Although the events of the night grew a little… blurry… after that, Joe could pointedly remember Brad doing a body shot off the bodacious redhead’s breasts and then, well… somehow he got home, alone, and that’s all that really mattered.
    He sat up, groaning, covering his eyes as he peered at the digital clock on the nightstand. With no practice that day the numbers on the clock meant little to him other than it was almost noon.
    Then he realized he was supposed to meet his family at the Brick House Bistro on Sullivan Street! “Shit,” he growled, sore and stiff after last night’s game.
    He showered, dressed and raced downstairs to literally launch himself into his trademark black Porsche, all without an ounce of coffee. He raced the restaurant, grateful it was only a few blocks away, and quickly valeted it before popping into the bar.
    “Hey, man,” cheered the bartender, “great game last night, Joe. Man, that pass in the third quarter, sometimes… I don’t know how you do it.”
    “Me either,” he said, lowering his voice and wishing the bartender wasn’t quite so exuberant.
    Joe smirked and ordered a shot and a beer.
    “Coming right up!”
    “Thanks,” Joe whispered.
    “What’s with the cloak and dagger?” asked the bartender as Joe quickly downed the shot and guzzled the beer.
    “I’m meeting my folks for lunch and… Sis!”
    “There you are,” said Joe’s sister, Cara, wagging a playful finger and winking at the bartender as she leaned up to give Joe a sisterly kiss.
    “A little hair of the dog?” she asked as Joe tossed a