Page 52 of Tight End

I toss that thought right in the trash.

Of course, I’m making this a bigger deal than what he must have meant. He knows June and I aren’t together, just like he knows how important this year is. He knows what I’ve worked for and what would be on the line if I let my place here slip away.

So why does it feel like I’m wrong?

Why does it feel like some piece of me is missing?

Before I can open my mouth and ask Gunner what the fuck he meant, I hear Oliver’s shout. “There’s my dad.”

Oliver’s propped up on June’s hip, his arms waving in the air, narrowly avoiding her face. He’s wearing my jersey, a half-eaten bag of popcorn hanging from one hand, and the biggest smile in the world stretched across his face. Everyone around us seems to fade into the background—even Gunner.

It’s me, my son ... and June.

My heart catches in my throat as my eyes rake over her. Her hair is up in a messy bun, her cheeks are flush from the cool night air, and she’s wearing a fucking jersey. I swear if she’s wearing my jersey, there’s nothing that will stop me from claiming her right here, right in front of my teammates and their families.

Mine. Mine.Mine.

And I can promise you right now, if she has someone else’s name stamped across her back, I’ll rip it from her body and burn it.

There’s a wildness inside me, prowling, waiting, wishing it could sink its teeth in her and never let go. She’s been mine since I laid eyes on her in that damn bar, sitting in my seat, wearing a wedding dress and a tiara for a wedding that never happened. I’m the one who made her forget about that day. I’m the one who gave her orgasm after orgasm when no one before me could give her even one. I’m the one who taught her that she was fucking good enough, that she deserved to be worshipped—every single inch of her.

I know I’ve been fighting this. I know I’ve been trying to push her out of my thoughts, out of my head, but seeing her at my game, wearing my colors, has every emotion coming to the surface burying their claws deep in my skin.

Right now I don’t want to extinguish the fire burning between us, I want to stoke the flames and watch that motherfucker burn.

Which is why I need to tighten the reins. I need to get control of myself before I jump so far across the line I won’t be able to find my way back.

I take a deep breath, swallowing everything down as I reach out for Oliver, taking him and the popcorn. “How did you like your first football game?”

“Football is the greatest. Can you teach me how to play?” His arm waves suddenly, hitting me in the face with the popcorn. “Oops. Sorry.”

“It’s okay. These guys hit me harder than that.” I point back to the locker room with a laugh, setting him on his feet. Oliver automatically grabs my hand, and I crouch next to him, pointing at Gunner. “This is my best friend, Gunner. He’s very excited to meet you.”

“You are?” He stares up at Gunner, his eyes shining with adoration like I just introduced him to Spider-Man.

Gunner nods, crouching down with us and offering Oli a fist bump. “It’s nice to meet you. Your dad has told me all about you.”

“Wait. I thought I was your best friend.” Theo Bronson stops next to our group with a frown.

I glance over at him and do a double take. He’s wearing a black-and-gold damask jacket I’m pretty sure could double as a curtain, shiny black shoes, and, if I’m not mistaken, this dick actually has a gold pocket square in his front pocket.

“Did you make that from a tablecloth?” Gunner pushes himself to his feet, coughing into his fist to cover up his laugh.

Theo scoffs, taking a second to introduce himself to Oliver, and then sends a dirty look Gunner’s way. “My grandmother always made sure I showed up to games in style. It’s a habit now.” He looks between the two of us, his lip curling. “Plus, I’m not a fan of the whole hobo look you two have going on.”

I’m about to respond when one of June’s friends squeals, turning my attention toward them. June spins around, whispering something to her, and—what the fuck?

Seriously. What. The. Fucking. Fuck.

It’s not my last name across June’s back. Nope. It’s Brooks’s. Silas motherfucking Brooks. I take a deep breath, and it burns as it goes down my throat. My nostrils flare, my jaw sets, my goddamned hands fist at my sides, and I’m ready to charge.

I’ve never considered myself a jealous man, but seeing June with some other fucker’s name across her back has me seeing red. I want to destroy him. I want to rip him limb from limb. Doesn’t matter if he has anything to do with this or not. I don’t care.

As if that fucking jersey mocking me wasn’t enough, Silas pushes himself from the locker room, a big smile plastered on his face. He walks like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Well, I got news for him, I’m about to give him one.

“Hey there, ladies. Did you enjoy the game?” He stops in front of June, Poppy, and her friend, and that was a mistake.

I have taken a step forward, ready to remove him from the premises, when Gunner’s hand clamps down on my shoulder.

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