25. Sam

Chapter 25

Sam

“ D o you think it was a bad idea for me to invite him here for dinner tonight?” I ask my mother, toying with the water bottle in front of me. Chase, Jack, and my dad are down in the media room watching Gladiator on the new plasma screen television, and I volunteered to help in the kitchen. Not that I’m really doing much beyond second-guessing myself.

My heart pumps faster as the seconds tick by.

It’s almost seven o’clock.

Mom is quiet for a minute while she dresses the salad. Then she looks up at me, a thoughtful look on her face.

“One of the things I’ve always loved about you is that when you decide you want something, you go for it. And you don’t stop until you get it.” She wipes her hands on the apron and walks over to me. “That said, while I love that about you, sometimes I worry that it will come back to bite you because what you want isn’t always what you need and what will make you happy.”

She pours herself a glass of wine and takes a sip. “You’ve always been so selfless, always one to provide help and support to whomever needs it. All of the charities you volunteer with, all of the kids you’ve worked with over the years, how strong you were for all of us when Chase was sick. It’s your nature to be a nurturer.”

I sigh and scrub a hand down the front of my face. “So you think this thing with Brixton is just about me trying to fix him?”

She shrugs. “I can’t tell you how you feel. Only you know that. But you obviously believe you have some kind of connection to him because of his brother dying and his heart being donated to Chase. Kind of some weird twist on the whole Florence Nightingale thing. Falling for the guy whose brother ultimately saved your brother. Or maybe it’s guilt that keeps you going back. Guilt that he lost so much and that you got to experience happiness because of it.”

“It’s just really…complicated.”

“Sam, I feel for him. Really, I do. But he comes with a lot of risk, not only to your career and future, but to your heart. I don’t know much about him beyond what I’ve seen since you two have been linked together online, but it’s not one case of bad judgment on his part. The more I read, the more I see that concerns me. Because of you. Because I know you, sweetie. And I don’t want you to get caught up in someone else’s troubles. You can’t fix everyone.”

“I know. But there’s more to him than people realize. The more I get to know him, the more I can see what hides beneath the mask he wants the world to see. I know he’s hurting and maybe he’s projected it in ways that aren’t the best for him, but he could have cut and run after that press conference over a week ago. He didn’t. He came to Play It Forward and has been there every day. He’s in it. And it’s not to improve his image. I believe it’s actually helping him. That tells me I’m right, that he wants to fix himself.”

Mom nods and opens the oven to check on the prime rib. I breathe in the rich scent but my gut is so knotted, I can’t even think about eating it.

“What about Jack?”

I lean back on the stool and sneak a look at the clock in the hallway.

Six fifty-four.

“You ended things because the distance was too much. But now he’s back. And from the looks of it, he wants more than friendship from you.” Mom shuts the oven and gives me a pointed look. “You were great together. Everyone loves him. He’s a stable, good-hearted guy. Hell of a hockey player.”

“We haven’t talked about getting back together. I mean, yeah, I get his signals, but right now it’s platonic. Neither one of us is making any moves.”

“Because you’re drawn to Brixton.”

“No, because I’m just not sure how I feel right now.”

“Sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself of that, but I think you know exactly what you want.” Mom takes another sip of her wine. “You know, I just want you to be happy. That’s all I want for both of my boys. But I’d be remiss if I didn’t tell you that this time, you might be making the wrong choice.”

The sound of heavy footsteps gets louder as the guys come upstairs from the basement. Jack beams at Mom when he walks into the kitchen.

“Smells amazing in here.”

Mom gives him a wink. “I hope you’re hungry. I made all your favorites.”

He gives her a quick hug. “You were always so good to me.”

The doorbell rings at the second I take a gulp of water. I cough and sputter. My foot slips from the rung of the stool as I scramble to stand.

Jack gives me a long look. “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. All good.” I run a hand through my hair and walk to the front door.

Silence falls around me and I’m sure it’s because my family is busy exchanging looks behind me.

I grab the handle and pull it open.

Speechless.

I can’t do anything except stare.

He’s fucking gorgeous, looking like a GQ model standing in my parents’ doorway.

His dark hair is slicked back, face clean-shaven. He’s got on a light-blue, long-sleeved dress shirt buttoned up high enough to cover his tattoos. The color makes his eyes look even brighter than normal. His shirt is tucked into black pants, and he’s got on dress shoes. I melt a little just looking at him.

“Umm…hi,” he finally says with a smile when I don’t speak.

I swallow hard. “Sorry, I, um…you look really great,” I blurt out.

“Thanks. I wasn’t sure how dressed up I should get.”

“You’re perfect.” The words tumble from my lips before I can catch them.

“Sometimes,” he says lightly. “Not always.” Then he holds out two huge shopping bags. “I wasn’t sure what to bring, so I figured dessert was a safe bet.”

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. Chase is 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 marble countertop, 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 than just dinner .

And I want to devour every course.