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

STILL IN THE PAST

JOSH

Laura had fallen asleep on the couch, her face soft and

unguarded, and for a moment, I just stood there staring at her. She looked so peaceful, so much like the girl I used to know, the girl I used to love-no, the girl I still loved, though I had no right to.

I bent down, sliding one arm beneath her knees and the other behind her back. Her head lolled slightly against my chest, and my breath caught. The last time I held her like this, she'd been laughing at something I'd said, her arms looped around my neck, and I'd felt like the luckiest bastard alive. Now, she was asleep, bruised, and too damn light in my arms, like the weight of the world had chipped away at her piece by piece.

Her scent, faint and familiar, hit me as I carried her upstairs, and it was almost enough to undo me. I'd been avoiding her scent for months. It was in every corner of her house, every damn memory I couldn't shake. I didn't deserve it anymore, didn't deserve her. I laid her down carefully on the bed, tucking the covers around her. For a moment, I just stood there, watching her breathe. She looked so small, like the fight had been drained from her, but I knew better. Laura was a fighter. Always had been.

I turned to leave, but her voice, barely audible, stopped me.

"Josh?"

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12:21

STILL IN THE PAST

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But when I turned, her eyes were half-open,

said, stepping

"Can you stay?"

to protect her from the mess I was, but then I saw the way her lips

I said, my voice

leaving just my briefs. The thought of being this close to her, this vulnerable, made my chest tighten. But it wasn't about

felt her body stiffen for a moment before she relaxed. I hesitated, unsure if I should touch her, but then she shifted closer, her back pressing against my chest. My

moment, I just held her, feeling her breathe, feeling the way her warmth seeped into me. I closed my eyes, my face buried in

wasn't. And it

12:21

STILL IN THE PAST

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her laugh had felt like sunlight. I thought about the look on her face when I told her the truth, the way

never hated myself more

fucking asshole who had everything and ruined it. I was the guy who let his fears and insecurities drive away the only person who ever made him feel whole. And now, here she was, broken and bruised, and it was all I could do to hold her and hope that maybe, just maybe, she'd find it

my arms, and for a second, I thought she was awake. Her hand moved, brushing against mine, and I tightened my hold on

way we still fit together, even after everything? Did she still hate me as much as I hated

could feel her breath against my arm, soft and even, and it was like a balm to the ache in my

this. I

Every instinct in me screamed to, stay, to hold her, to prove to her that