Page 16 of Tight End

But tonight…who knows?

Maybe that feeling will come rushing back.

Or maybe it was just the overabundance of emotion of the night that amplified the spark between us two years ago.

Coach Hayes claps his hands to get our attention. “Nice work out there, guys. But we still have a long road ahead of us. Playoffs start next week and even though we got the bye, we need to keep our heads in the game. This isn’t the time to take a breather.”

He runs through some of the plays where we fell short, but because Tennessee wasn’t on their game, our missteps didn’t hurt us.

“This game is all about teamwork. We win together, we lose together. We do whatever needs to be done to succeed.” With a nod at me, he says, “Take Hartley here. You scored three touchdowns today. That’s not the typical job of his position, but he had the opportunities and he took them. We beat Tennessee today because they lost their focus. We ran circles around them because they didn’t work together and it cost them a chance to make the playoffs.”

Coach goes on for a few more minutes and with each one that ticks past, my body becomes more and more stiff. I can practically feel the scalding water sizzling my skin.

When he finally walks out of the locker room, Bryce walks over. “Let’s meet at the arena around seven tonight. I’ll text you the ticket codes.”

“Okay, sounds good.”

Bryce pushes back the hair spilling into his eyes. “I’m kinda surprised they’re playing tonight. Especially at that arena.”

My brows furrow. “What do you mean?”

Bryce’s lips pull together into a tight line and he steps closer to me. “Look, I know Chase is looking forward to meeting him tonight but I don’t think that’s going to happen. Two years ago, Brixton’s brother died in a bad car accident. It was right after a show the band did at the Sun Arena.”

My throat tightens, swelling around the massive lump now lodged there. “He…died?” I manage to croak out after a few seconds.

“Yeah, he’s a pretty private person and didn’t want anyone outside of the band and his immediate family to know. There was nothing in the press or anything like that. Because Lane’s our cousin, we found out. But his family kept everything really small to keep the press away.”

Bryce shakes his head. “It was bad. And he’s been kind of a mess ever since then. Tonight is the anniversary of his brother’s death and supposedly, he’s not in great shape. My cousin said he's been MIA and they haven’t been able to find him. He does this sometimes, though, so they think he’ll show up at the arena. I just wouldn’t count on a meet and greet after the show.”

I watch Bryce walk toward the showers, my jaw still sore after hitting the floor when I heard the news.

Brixton’s brother died.

And Chase survived.

Never in a million years would I have expectedthatkind of a collision of fates.

What the heck are the odds?

Chapter 6

Brixton

My eyes sting from the salty spray, legs aching as I crouch low on the surfboard and sail over the rough waters. The dark waves carry my board upward and into another swirling curl. The sky, which was bright and blue only a few hours ago, is now heavy and gray, thick with cloud cover that eclipses the sun.

It’s nearing dusk, and Half-Moon Bay is pretty much deserted because who the hell in their right mind would take a chance and risk their life to surf under these shitty conditions?

White-capped crests whip against my tensed-up muscles, the aggression of the sea matching my own.

My eyes blur behind my sunglasses, every muscle tightening for the ride through the massive barrel ahead. It has to be at least eighteen feet high. The open bottle of Jack Daniel’s in the front seat of the rental should have been enough of a warning to stay off this board and away from waves that could crush my internal organs if I make one wrong move. Instead, it only made me embrace the self-destructive tear I’ve been on, the one I managed to conceal from Allie this afternoon.

Barely.

I had to get out of there before the façade cracked.

Splintered bits of that letter pierce my brain like the sharpest razor blades. Knowing that a piece of Davis still lives should bring me peace but instead, it just pisses me off.

“He had so fucking much to live for,” I bellow into the air, my voice barely audible over the sound of the crashing waves. “Goddammit, it should have been me.”

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