Page 8 of Tight End

“Thanks. I’m glad your brother is going to be okay.” He stretches his arms over his head, the arms of his suit jacket hugging the muscles. I swallow hard and drag my eyes away from him.

Suddenly, I feel like I’m intruding on his space. I rise from the pew and back away, part of me resisting the movement because in all honesty, I want to stay. He gazes at me, sadness and resignation pooling in his dark eyes.

My fingers itch to trace over the lines of his jaw, my lips tingle with the urge to taste his.

Seriously?

I ball my fingers into a fist.

Jesus, I need to get out of here. I can’t have these thoughts…in here, of all places…about a guy who’s about to lose his brother to some horrible disease.

Our eyes lock.

My brain short-circuits and I struggle to find parting words, mainly because I don’twanttopart.

“Um, good luck with…uh, the rest of the season.”

The guy needs to grieve alone. He doesn’t want me in there interrupting his spiritual flow.

Sam watches me as I practically trip over my feet to get through the door. I can feel the heat of his stare singe my skin through all the layers of clothing. My breath hitches when the door closes. I stand in the hallway, the stark white walls suddenly cold and void of compassion.

With a thumping heart, I grab my buzzing phone from my pocket.

Mercy Hospital flashes across the screen. I stab the Accept button.

“Hello?”

Blood rushes between my ears, flowing so forcefully, I almost can’t hear a response.

“Mr. Scott,” a female voice says in a no-nonsense tone. “We need you to come to Recovery on the second floor as soon as possible.”

I don’t say a word. I just run to the elevator. The doors open and I dart down the hallway, searching for signs pointing to Recovery.

“Mr. Scott!”

I stop short and whirl around, coming face to face with the nurse who’d been in here before. A tall man in a white coat next to her walks toward me.

“Mr. Scott, there was a complication with your brother’s surgery.”

My mind swims with frenzied thoughts, terror snaking through my insides as snippets of words pierce my heart.

No…no…no.

White noise consumes the space around me and I can hear his voice through the muffledcloud.

“…shard of glass…punctured an artery…couldn’t stop the bleeding…”

Breaths come in short and sharp gasps, slicing at my throat.

“Take care of my girls. They need you right now.”

Fuck. He knew something wasn’t right.

He made me leave because he needed to make sure Allie and the baby were protected, that I’d be with them when they heard the news.

When Davis said goodbye, he meant it.

And now he’s gone forever.

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