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

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JOSH

The second my feet hit solid ground, my mind was already racing.

There was too much to do. Too much to set up before Laura got here.

I adjusted the strap of my duffel bag and reached for my suitcase, which was still filled with clothes from the trip I never finished. My muscles ached from exhaustion-Germany to New York, then straight back home. At this point, I was running on nothing but caffeine and sheer will.

But there was no time to rest.

Laura was coming home.

The thought still felt surreal. Two weeks ago, she was nothing more than a memory I had been trying to hold onto for three years. Now, she was sitting in a hospital room, eating full liquids, standing on her own, talking.

Not much, but she was getting there.

I swallowed hard, dragging my luggage behind me as I stepped. into the airport terminal. Every time I closed my eyes on the flight, all I could think about was everything that needed to be done before she got here. The doctors had gone through an overwhelming amount of information about her recovery-how her muscles had wasted away, how she needed constant

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physiotherapy, how she'd need to relearn the most basic things.

I was prepared for the work. For the long nights, the setbacks, the frustration.

What I wasn't prepared for was.how Laura forgave me.

I still didn't know how to process it.

The morning after I got to Germany, I told her everything-every detail about Vivien, about how I gave up on her, how I almost signed the papers, how I had moved on.

expected her to be

to

first thing she told me when she was able to talk again was that she forgave me. That to her, there was

of forcing her vocal cords to work again. "You couldn't have known I would wake up. I didn't

stunned,

She understood.

had both suffered enough.

to the house, my hands tightening

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Asha when I had games or training. But that... fuck. I still needed

no fixing

heavier than it should have, dragging behind me as I

closed the door, a light flicked

I tensed.

chest, a half-empty mug of coffee in

eyebrow.

out a tired breath, rubbing a hand over my face. "I

gestured toward the coffee pot. "There's more if

dropping my bag and walking over to pour myself

me, quiet for a beat, then said, "How

in

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left, and they removed the tube. Her voice is weak, but they think with therapy,

slowly. "She's

or so. The nurse is making sure

me. "And