Page 51 of Tight End

Oooh. Yes. Me, my fake boyfriend, and the kiss that’s burned into my memory forever.

I told him not to kiss me and I ended up doing the very thing I warned him against. I told myself it was all for the cameras, but deep down, my reason was bullshit.

I wanted to taste those lips after all the venom they’d spewed.

Venom that I one-hundred-and-fifty percent deserved.

When I saw him in that suit with his dark hair slicked back, his jaw tight and eyes spitting fire, I couldn’t help myself.

Ineededto taste.

And fuck, it was so much more than I was prepared to handle.

I rest my head back against the cushion. “It was bad. I know. I lost it last night. But you didn’t see everything, okay? Itwasn’t just me wreaking havoc all over the damn city, but that’s what all those videos want you to believe.”

“Are you okay now?” she asks.

Grabbing the bottle, I take a long gulp of the icy cold beer then I slam it down on the glass top table. “No Al, I’m not okay. I am fucking far from okay. That letter fucked with my head so bad, but it wasn’t only the letter. It was who the letter was from that twisted my fucking head inside out.”

Pausing, I pick at the edge of the label on the bottle. “And because I’d met Chase Hartley’s brother the night Davis died.”

Allie gives her head a shake. “Wait, Hartley…? And you were with Sam Hartley last night…are you telling mehe’sChase’s brother?”

“Yeah.” My shoulders slump forward. “I met him in the chapel that night. He thought his brother Chase was going to die. And I’d just heard that Davis was gonna be fine. I stopped in the chapel before going up to see you and Jules, you know, to say thanks to God and all that, and we talked for a little while. I obviously didn’t pray nearly as hard as I should have because when I left, I got the call about Davis. Never saw Sam again until last night after the show. Seeing him again blew me the fuck away. I snapped, Al. Couldn’t handle it. And after Sam jumped in to pull me away from the guy at the bar, all those social media posts started flying around. People got it in their heads that Sam and I were a thing. Our publicists said we should go with it.”

“That’s ridiculous. Why?

“Because my image is crap and his is gold. Since I need some reputation rehab, he’s gonna be my boyfriend until all this crap dies down.”

“He agreed to that?” Allie lifts an eyebrow. “Why?”

“The guy’s a saint. Classic do-gooder. And since people are questioning him for hanging out with me, he kinda needs tohold on for a little while, too. Prove to everyone how much of a savior he is, on the football field and off.”

I drop my eyes to the beer bottle again.

“What are you not telling me?”

I ball up the pieces of the label in my hand. “I stayed with him last night. Just in case anyone was watching us and to keep up with the sham. Then this morning, the fucking worst thing happened.”

Allie covers her face with her hand. “Do I want to know?”

I raise the bottle to my lips again and down the rest of it like I’m trying to drown the toxic memory of coming face to face with Chase. “I met Chase Hartley. And I was completely unprepared for it. All of the anger came flooding back. The shit with my dad, the band, the label, the goddamn noose around my neck. So that’s why I blew the press conference. I fucked over Lane, bolted away from Hartley…”

“And was his outburst at the press after the conference all part of the fake relationship?”

My brows furrow. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah, well, you might want to check it out online. Mr. Good As Gold had quite a mouthful for one of the influencers.”

“I don’t really want to Google my name right now. I’m sure you understand.” I sit back and scrape my hand down the front of my face, regret nipping at my gut. “And, oh yeah, I need to do community service, too. With my fake boyfriend. More rehab for my reputation.”

“B, fixing your reputation isn’t going to fix your heart. I know that and so do you. I want you to be so successful and to be able to enjoy that success. Davis would be incredibly proud of you. But you’re messing it up more and more every day and unless you get a handle on your emotions, you’ll completely destroy everything you built with the guys.”

“Fuck the guys. I mean, other than Lane. Those assholes didn’t show up for me once. All they give a shit about is themselves and their bank accounts.”

“People will always disappoint you. But you’re projecting all of your rage on everyone around you and I don’t think you understand the root cause of it.”

A frustrated sigh escapes my lips. “I don’t need a ten-cent therapy session, Doc.”

---