Page 73 of Tight End

Something Chase said while we were getting dessert ready keeps chewing on my brain.

“He’s trying to heal himself. I don’t know why he’s trying to do it on his own. Maybe he doesn’t have a supportive family like we do. But he’s trying. He’s a good person who wants to do good for others.”

It’s exactly what I see in him, too. Especially after all the time he’s spent at Play It Forward with James. He’s excited to be there, happy to help, and always ready to pitch in.

Just like tonight.

I know he’ll be in the stands with the kids even though it’s probably the last place he wants to be. Jack will be at the game with my parents and I’m sure Brixton knows it.

The thought of him being made to feel less than really pisses me off. That familiar protective instinct flares up in my chest. I can’t stand the thought of him hurting any more than he already has. And it kills me that I opened him up to it.

“All right,” Coach says and claps his hands. “Let’s get ‘em.”

The guys jump up, pumped for the game since we’re so far ahead in our division. The playoffs are within reach and the win is ours tonight. We just need to take it.

I walk over to my locker and finish suiting up. Bryce stops next to me.

“I hear Jack has been spending a lot of time at Play ItForward. Anything I should know? Is there trouble in rocker paradise? Is the fake relationship over?”

I roll my eyes. “Come on, you know it was a publicity stunt. It was never gonna be a long-term thing.”

“Especially not after the press conference.” Bryce shakes his head. “Talk about digging your own grave and then jumping right into it.”

“He’s going to be fine,” I say stiffly, slamming my locker shut.

Bryce wraps his right wrist. “Why do you even care? You’re off the hook now, right? He goes off the deep end, you guys part ways. It’s a win-win, yeah?”

The eggs rumble in my stomach again.

“Yeah. Big win,” I mumble.

“The guys in the band are pissed,” Bryce says, lowering his voice. “Between us, they’re looking to replace him.”

My eyebrows fly up. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Bryce holds up his hands. “Hey, don’t kill the messenger. It’s not final, but that’s what I heard from Jase.”

Lane is their cousin.

Shit.

And after last night…

I scrub a hand down the front of my face, my pulse nearly punching a hole in my throat.

“I know you wanted to help him,” Bryce says, paying a hand on my shoulder. “But some people are just beyond help. You can’t save everyone, Sammy.”

I walk toward the tunnel for kickoff, my feet heavier and heavier with each step. Feels like I’m wearing cement blocks instead of cleats. The game starts after the coin toss and instead of looking at the field, my eyes scour the stands near the box where the kids normally sit for home games.

“Hartley, look alive out there,” Coach yells from the sidelines.

The first few plays are rough. Arizona’s offense is giving us a hard fucking time today and now it’s fourth down. We group together in the huddle. I sneak a look up at the stands while Bryce is calling the play. He nudges me.

“You got this or what? We’re gonna go for it.”

I nod, not having heard a damn thing he said. “Yeah, yeah, let’s do it.”

We get into position. Austin hikes the ball to Bryce, who jogs a few steps backward. I’m ready to bolt forward for a run play when Bryce fakes a handoff to Baxter, the running back.

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