End Game

My brother has one rule—stay away from his best friend. I agreed … but I hadn’t seen him yet.

Branch Best is my brother’s best friend, teammate, and a total player in every sense of the word.

The smirk. The swagger. His reputation is well earned. So, obviously I was drawn to the red flag like a wide receiver to the end zone.

We agreed to one fun, carefree night. It was our steamy little secret. Then game over.

The plan worked perfectly until two faint pink lines showed up a few weeks later, turning our tryst into the biggest scandal of the sports season.

Now fists are flying on the field, my brother won’t talk to me, and I want to bury myself under the covers with an entire coffee cake and forget the world.

This was never supposed to be serious, but the game has changed. And now I must ask—are we just a fumble … or the end game?