Page 25 of Tight End

A loud pinging sound rings out. Then another. And another. Suddenly, it sounds like a slot machine hitting a jackpot at a casino in here.

“Jesus Christ,” Ben moans, staring at his screen. “It’s already trending on X and the videos are being uploaded everywhere. YouTube, TikTok, Instagram.” His phone bleeps, over and over and over until my ears ring.

“The label is going to flip the fuck out.” Rex shakes his head, staring at his own phone. “It may not be assault, but it still doesn’t look good for you, and that reflects on the band and the label. The lawyers will have to get involved, you’ll need to do a press release, then a press conference making a formal apology.”

“Fuck that.” Brixton stretches his arms overhead. “I’m not apologizing to anyone. I don’t have a damn thing to be sorry about except that I didn’t knock the guy unconscious.”

“You’re so sadistic,” I mutter.

“Some guys like that about me,” he murmurs back. “Don’t be so quick to judge if you don’t know what you’re missing, choir boy.”

Rex and Ben are too busy strategizing to listen to us.

My throat tightens when Brixton’s eyes, glittering with intent, capture mine.

“Holy shit,” Ben says, looking up from the screen. He hands his phone to Rex, whose jaw drops.

“Wait…what the?—?”

Suddenly, he picks his head up, his eyes wide as he looks from me to Brixton.

That look.

I don’t like it.

And I definitely don’t trust it.

Rex holds up the phone.

“Brixton’s ass kicking isn’t the only thing trending right now.”

Chapter 10

Brixton

Sam grabs Rex’s phone. “They think we’re…” His eyes practically bulge out of his sockets.“Together?”

A snide laugh escapes my lips.

As fuckingif.

Saint Sam could never handle the devil inside of me.

“You think this is funny?” he says, shooting a glare in my direction.

“It’s just stupid speculation,” I say. “People idiotically assume because you’re pulling me away from Mr. Clean that we’re a thing.”

And that’s when my stomach does a dip.

A thing.

Oh, shit. That must mean…

“Looks like the rumors are confirmed. Brixton Scott is gay,” Ben reads out loud, stroking his goatee.

I lift an eyebrow at Sam. “Did you just out me?”

A surprised look shadows his expression and then passes just as fast. He narrows his eyes. “Oh, so I’m getting blamed for that, too?”

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