Page 69 of Tight End

My gaze falls to the logo on the bags and my jaw drops.

Crumble and Whisk.

“That’s my?—”

He grins wider. “I know. Now are you gonna invite me in or are we eating on the stoop?”

I step aside and wave him into the house. Chaseis the first one to the door. He doesn’t bother to hold out a hand, just captures Brixton in a bro hug.

And fuck me, Brixton relaxes right into it.

My parents greet him with wide smiles that hold a lot of reserve only I can see. But they’re gracious and welcoming, as always.

Jack narrows his eyes at the bags of dessert. “Sam’s pre-game ritual is eating cheesecake the night before a game.”

Brixton looks at him, a smile lifting his lips. “Yeah, I know. I bit the bullet and googled. Amazing what you can find online, right?”

Jack stiffens and grabs one of the bags before turning to bring it into the kitchen.

I take the other bag and follow while my parents and Chase make small talk with Brixton.

“It was a nice gesture,” I murmur to Jack. “And you love their desserts, too.”

Jack leans toward me. “I don’t trust the guy. You did him a favor and he screwed you over. He can’t make up for it with cheesecake.”

“No…” I shrug. “But it’s a good start, right?”

Jack rolls his eyes. “Think about all the shit he put you through. You tried to help him how many times? He doesn’t care about anyone but himself. Don’t you see that?”

“I see a guy who doesn’t have anyone. You know how important family is to me. It bothers me that he thinks he’s on his own. He shouldn’t have to be.”

Jack pulls away and grits his teeth. “Jesus, Sam,” he says, his voice low. “He did it to himself. He single-handedly destroyed his career during that press conference. He alienated everyone in his life because he’s a pompous, cocky prick. How is that your problem to solve?”

I drag my fingertip along the smooth marblecountertop, tracing one of the lines of gray to the edge. “You know, at a lot of the organizations I’ve volunteered at, the people are victims of circumstance. Maybe that’s the case with Brixton, too. I don’t know a lot about his childhood or his family, but he’s clearly going through something and doesn’t know how to process it. So he’s acting out.”

“Acting out. What is he, ten?” Jack scoffs.

“I have a feeling it goes beyond losing his brother.” I look at Jack. “And he’s making an effort. That tells me there’s more to him than the pompous, cocky prick you think you see.”

Jack inches toward me and rests his hands on my arms. “I care about you, Sam. I always have. This guy’s motives are questionable, and I don’t want you to get taken advantage of.”

My mind trips back to my visit to his hotel room.

I can’t forget it…any of it.

Even though I know I probably should try like hell to.

Every look, every touch, every kiss loops through my mind, sparking very dangerous emotions, emotions I can’t seem to bury no matter how much they threaten to crush my heart.

I force a smile. “I appreciate you looking out for me and for caring so much. But I promise, this is only about me being the friend he needs. It’s just dinner,” I say, lying like a freaking rug.

Because the second I opened that door and saw Brixton standing there, I knew in my heart that tonight with him here is so much more thanjustdinner.

And I want to devour every course.

Chapter 26

Brixton

---