Page 60 of Tight End

“Sure, but…and I don’t mean any disrespect, Mr. Scott, but what happens when you leave? He can’t keep coming here for lessons. We don’t have a music program. This is strictly sports.”

I bring a hand to the back of my head. “I’ll worry about that later. Right now, the kid is hurting and this may make him feel closer to his mom. I wanna try to give that to him.”

“Ohhh, you are so sweet,” she gushes. “I always knew you were a good guy.”

She obviously hasn’t read any of the tabloid trash about me, though. I try to smile at that but the reality is, I’m questionable at best right now.

But I have a chance to do something good and I’m gonna take it.

“I’ll be back soon,” I say to her before heading back to James.

“Listen, buddy, this girl?—”

“Sofia,” she interjects with a bright smile.

“Sofia is gonna hang with you for a little while. I need to take care of something real quick but I’ll be back soon. Okay?”

He stares at me in awe and nods. “Yes.”

I turn to leave and the kids erupt into cheers when the door opens and Sam walks inside. His face lights up when he sees the hordes of kids surrounding him and gives high fives to them. The door opens again and the kids go nuts for the second time when a tall, muscular guy stops next to Sam.

He’s gorgeous with bright blue eyes, dark blond hair, and one dimple that winks at me when he smiles, as if to say, “Fuck you, Brixton. You missed your chance.”

And that dimple would be right because the guy with Sam is none other than his ex-boyfriend, NHL hockey player Jack Larson, star center for the New York Renegades.

I’d read that they broke up because their schedules were too crazy and long-distance wasn’t working out well for them.

But then I remember seeing another article recently, speculating that Larson might be relocating out West.

I don’t know what the hell I was going to do or say to Samto fix things between us…or if he’d even have listened…but it doesn’t seem to matter now.

When Jack slips an arm around Sam’s waist and hugs him close, my vision floods with green, my pulse hammering a hole in my throat.

Karma is a real bitch.

I swallow hard, my stomach dropping into my Nikes when Sam’s dark eyes tangle with mine.

And it’s then that I know that I’m too fucking late.

Chapter 23

Sam

Jack’s arm tightens around me, but I stiffen under Brixton’s pained, accusatory stare.

I won’t lie.

I like the defeatist look on his face as he stands there, trying not to gape at Jack.

Speaking of faces, I’d have liked to leave my mark on that chiseled face yesterday after he ordered me to leave his hotel room. I wanted to smash that jaw into a thousand bone chips.

But really, what was I expecting?

He made it clear that he didn’t want anyone to breach the barbed wire layering his heart and I said fuck it.

I wanted to be the one to break through.

I only ended up smashing face-first into it, the resulting scrapes and scratches feeling like tiny razor blades slicing at my own heart.

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