Letting My Brother's Best Friend Take My V-Card

FADE AWAY

JOSH

The roar of the crowd was deafening as I ran onto the field, the cold air biting at my skin. The stakes were higher than ever-this game would decide whether we went to the Super Bowl. My mind was laser-focused, but not on the right things.

The tension inside me had been building for weeks, maybe months. Every time I thought about Laura, lying in that bed, motionless, something inside me twisted, turned sharp. I channeled it all into the game, into every snap, every hit. And maybe I was taking it too far. "Josh, man," Luke jogged up to me during a huddle, lowering his voice. "You good? You've been off today."

"Just focus on the game, Luke," I snapped, not bothering to look at him.

Luke frowned but nodded, backing off.

When the play restarted, I was on fire, charging down the field with an intensity that bordered on reckless. The opposing defender squared up to block me, and I didn't just push past him-I drove into him, shoulders low, practically throwing him to the ground. The refs blew the whistle, flags flying everywhere.

"Unnecessary roughness, offense, number 86!"

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FADE AWAY

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Luke was in my face before I could even step off the field. "What the hell was that?" he barked, grabbing my jersey to pull me back as tempers flared on both sides.

I shrugged him off, glaring. "Back off, Luke."

"Josh-"

"I said back off!"

the game. I sat there on the sidelines, seething. The game unfolded

locker room was buzzing with excitement, guys laughing, celebrating, the energy electric. I toweled off, keeping to myself. When Luke walked by, I called out

his duffel bag slung over his shoulder. "Yeah, man. Jess is cooking dinner. Gotta get back to her and the kids. You should

his gaze. "Nah, I'm good. Asha's with the nanny. She loves

home? Living in that apartment isn't good for Asha.

I can't go back there, Luke. Everything reminds me

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"She's alive, Josh."

she?" I snapped, my voice rising. "She's never fucking waking

eyes on me. I didn't care. I grabbed my bag and stormed out, the door

slap in the face. I stood there for a moment, my chest heaving, trying to calm down.

was alive. But it didn't feel like it.

my car, my phone buzzed in my pocket. Pulling it out, I saw a text from the

when you're coming home.

to the gut. Asha was three. Too little to understand why her mom wasn't coming home or why Daddy couldn't give her a straight

but I didn't know what to type. What could I say? That I couldn't face it? That I didn't

my pocket and leaned against the car, running my hand through

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