Page 50 of Second Shot

“No.”

He’slying.

I suck in a shakybreath.

“I know you don’t want to believe me, but no one except Sam is responsible for what happened. Not you. Not me.NotCoach.”

I glare at him. “You don’t know what he did. How he treatedSam.”

“I was there, Brynne. I saw the way your dad acted around him. Heard the arguments. Sure, he was an asshole, sometimes. And he didn’t know how to deal with…” He rubs the back of his neck. “He didn’t deal with Sam’s illness well. None of usdid.”

“It wasn’t an illness. It was an addiction.” I slap my palms on the counter, anger burning my throat. “And he wouldn’t have touched the stuff if youhadn’t-”

“Screw that,” he yells. “You want to blame anyone but the one person you’re really angrywith.”

His breathing is harsh, and so is mine. We stare at each other, anger simmering betweenus.

“You want me to take the blame?” I ask, my voice hoarse, tears burning the back of my eyes. “Of course, I’m angry with myself. You think I don’t regret not being there for him? For missing thesigns?”

He moves around the island towards me and pulls me against his chest. “I wasn’t blamingyou.”

I want to hold on to the anger, the hatred that has been my anchor, but it too easily dissolves when he touchesme.

He pulls back, cupping my jaw and forcing me to look at him. “You want to be angry at someone, then be angry atSam.”

I hate that he’sright.

Heavy arms wrap around me, but I don’t want to be held. I don’t want his comfort. Or maybe I do. Maybe I’m just so damn scared of what it’ll mean if I acceptit.

I push him away, but he doesn’t releaseme.

“Be angry, Brynne. But be angry at the rightperson.”

“I can’t.” A damn sob chokes my words. “I’ll never know why he did it. Why he destroyed his life. You think I don’t want to be angry at him? I do. But he’s nothere.”

“No. But I am.” He cups my face again, his thumbs stroking away the tears that spill over my cheek. “So, if you need to yell or cry, or whatever it is that’ll make you feel better, then do it. I’ll be your fucking punching bag, Brynne. Give me your best. But when you’re done, you’re going to finally admit that you don’t hateme.”

“I don’t hate you,” I whisper. “But…”

He rests his forehead against mine. “I’m angry with him, too. Angry with myself. With Coach. But it’s time to let itgo.”

“I can’t.” Because it feels like I’m letting Sam go if Ido.

He exhales, his breath warm against my lips. My body melts into his, and my fists tangle in hisshirt.

We stand like that for a long time. I take his strength, his heat, clinging tohim.

I should walk, no run, away. But I can’t. I don’t wantto.

“How can something feel so right and yet so wrong at the same time?” Iwhisper.

“It’s not wrong,” he breathes into my hair, his palms pressed firmly against my lower back. “I’m not saying it’ll be easy, but we’ll make this work. We’ll make uswork.”

“There is no us, Kane. It was one night,and-”

“Bullshit.” His body tenses, but he doesn’t let mego.

I place my hands on his chest and push back. “You really think we’d be standing here right now if it weren’t forNoah?”

---