Page 33 of Tight End

Oh, shit.

A cold sensation snakes around my stomach and squeezes hard.

Brixton looks over at me, his eyes wide. And in that second, my gut plummets into my shoes.

Because I know exactly what Ben is telling him right now.

He’s not going to the hotel because he’s coming home with me.

“So I’m supposed to fucking live with him now?”

I scrub a hand down the front of my face.

What the hell did I get myself into?

There’s a little bit more grumbling before Brixton finally ends the call and looks at me.

“I guess we’re gonna be roommates.”

“Don’t sound so excited,” I shoot back. “I have to share my space withyounow.”

He takes a few steps toward me. The scent of his cologne bites into my air supply, forcing me to take him in. I resist the overwhelming ache to breathe, to let him infuse me.

I was stupid enough to do that once. I’d have to be a complete idiot to do it again.

“I gave you an out. I told you to walk away.”

His invisible grip on me tightens, daring me to push away.

“You know I can’t do that. I’m involved now,” I rasp.

Brixton’s lips curl into a snarl. “Who asked you to jump into the flames, Sammy? Didn’t you know you were gonna get burned?”

Disdain drips from his words, but the lust glittering in the depths of those blue eyes tells a very different story.

He’s close. So close, I could reach out and trace my fingertip over the curve of his mouth. But touching him would ignite a spark so deep, I think the flames would incinerate us both.

I’ve never felt such a mixture of disgust and sympathy for one person at the same time. It’s like I want to hug him tight for a minute only to throttle him hard in the next.

It’s an all-out tug of war with my emotions.

Impossible to win.

“We should call an Uber.” I finally break the silence. “You need to get some rest before tomorrow morning. Clear your head.”

Exactly what I need to do.

He doesn’t respond, only walks to the edge of the curb and sinking onto it, his long legs folded up by his chest.

I pull out my phone and order the car. Then I send a text to Chase.

I’m bringing Brixton home. Make sure you’re in your room when we get there.

A second later, my phone pings.

Holy shit. Are you seriously banishing me to my room?

I let out a deep sigh.

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