Page 52 of Tight End

“You feel abandoned by your father. And after Davis died, there was no one to cushion the blow of that pain. You’re on your own and making sure everyone around you suffers just as much as you are.”

“They deserve it,” I grumble.

“Who deserves it? Aiden? Dak? Okay, fine. They’re self-centered people. The record execs? They’re in business to make money and you’re contracted to command it for them. But everyone else? Are they all targets, too? Stop trying to push everyone away. You have so much, why don’t you feel like you deserve it?”

“Because I don’t!” I jump up from the couch and hurl a throw pillow at the wall. “I fucking don’t, Al.”

Tears fill her green eyes. “You have to stop blaming yourself. I’m so scared for you, B. You’re on this self-destructive road, and I’m scared to death to find out where it leads. You need to pick up the pieces and find a way to move on. We can do it together. And if I ever hear you say your life isn’t worth it, then think of the little girl you were with yesterday. Think about how she lights up like a Christmas tree whenever she sees you, how she never stops talking about Unca Bee. She’s a precious gift your brother gave to us.”

Her voice cracks and she swipes at a tear. “We’re all hurting, B. Try to stop shutting everyone out and maybe it will start to hurt a little bit less. Please.”

A hard knock at the door interrupts my thoughts.

“Someone is here,” I mutter.

“Just think about what I said,” she says. “I love you, B. And so does Jules.”

“I love you guys, too. I’ll talk to you later.”

I click to end the call and toss my phone onto the couch.

It has to be Lane. He’s the only one who gives a shit enough to check on me, even after I pulled that stunt at the press conference.

I slowly move toward the door, my chest aching like I just took a lightning round of sucker punches. Peering through the peephole, my breath hitches.

Sam.

Looking hot as fuck with his tie loosened and shirt unbuttoned.

I pull open the door and he eyes me in my boxer briefs. I don’t miss the flicker of hunger in his hard gaze.

“How’d you get up here? Only security knows I’m staying here.”

“Mike and Steve brought me.”

“Why would they do that? I figured I made it pretty clear with my statement at the press conference that I didn’t want to be around any of you.”

“Such a self-centered bastard,” he growls as he steps into the room, eyeing me like I’m dinner. “You singlehandedly steamrolled everyone who wants to help you during that conference. You’re really a fucking head case.”

The door slams shut behind him.

I cock my head to the side. “What was that? You want me to give you head?”

Sam’s eyes flash and he pushes me into a wall, his hand resting over my nipple piercing. A shiver slips down my spine, goosebumps covering my skin.

“I came to tell you that you’re fucking with my career. I was there to help you and you blew the whole plan to shit because you’re a self-righteous prick.” His other hand comes to rest around my neck and he gives it a little squeeze.

My dick immediately gets hard.

“I don’t think you came here to tell me that,” I rasp, closing my hand over his. “I think you came here to punish me, Sammy. So do it. Show me how pissed off you are that I’m fucking up your life. Make me feel how much you hate me. I dare you.”

Chapter 21

Sam

Oh, God. I do hate him.

So fucking much.

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