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B rooks

Alzheimer’s was the fucking devil.

It stole the best parts of people, piece by piece, with no remorse, no mercy, no way to fight back.

Every time I saw my mom, I had to brace myself, had to prepare for the possibility that she wouldn’t know me, that I’d become a stranger overnight. It was a special kind of torture, and it didn’t matter how much money I had, how many doctors I’d spoken to, or how many studies I’d read. There was nothing I could do to stop it.

I delayed visiting her as long as I could, hated the guilt that settled in my chest every time I walked into the facility, but I couldn’t avoid it forever.

Logan and I pulled into our usual spot, neither of us speaking. Normally, we’d bullshit in the car—talk trash, argue about sports, make fun of each other. Not today.

Today, we were quiet.

Because we both knew what this visit could be.

The old brick building stood solid and familiar, its entrance lined with vibrant flower beds and a small fountain trickling softly nearby. The kind of place meant to look peaceful, even though the families who walked through its doors were anything but.

Angela Rhodes, the home director and all-around god-send, greeted us at the front desk, her warm, steady presence a small comfort in the chaos. “Hey, Madsen brothers,” she said, smiling like she hadn’t just watched us hesitate in the parking lot for five minutes. “She’s having a good day today. She’ll love to see her favorite people.”

My body unclenched slightly.

Logan exhaled, muttering, “Thank God,” under his breath.

Angela hummed as she led us down the hallway, filling the silence with soft chatter. “We had a pianist come in this morning,” she said. “She was singing. Music always helps.”

Singing .

I swallowed against the tightness in my throat.

It was so rare now, the glimpses of her before the disease, the unfiltered happiness. And we never knew when it would be the last time.

Angela gestured toward the door. “Go on in.”

We stepped inside, and I held my breath.

Our mother looked up, and for one terrifying second, I thought she didn’t recognize us. Then?—

“Lolo!” she gasped, her face lighting up as she threw her arms around Logan. “It’s so good to see you. You’re so handsome, gosh. I don’t know how I made such handsome boys.”

My lungs loosened.

She turned to me, and my chest tightened all over again.

“Brooks,” she said, walking over to wrap me in a full-body hug, the kind she used to give us every day when we were kids. “What’s with the frown? I read you’re happy with the trade to Phoenix? I know I’ll be glad to see you around.”

She was having a good day.

I smiled, pressing my lips together so I wouldn’t choke on emotion, and led her to her favorite chair. “I am very happy. It means I get to see you a lot more.”

She beamed, her hands squeezing mine. “I miss our weekly dinners. Can we do that again?”

“Of course,” Logan said, his voice thick. He looked at me as he added, “We already do them, but now that you’re here full-time…”

I nodded, though something in me twisted painfully. We did have dinner with her every week. But she didn’t remember.

It wasn’t her fault but it didn’t make it hurt any less.

“Did you like the Chinese we brought last time?” Logan asked carefully.

She frowned, her expression going distant, and my stomach plummeted. Then—“Oh, that’s right! The spicy chicken thing. It was delicious.”

Relief flooded me. She remembered. For now.

I exhaled and sank into the small sofa beside her, letting Logan take the lead on conversation. She filled us in on all the drama at the facility—who was fighting with who, whose grandkids were coming to visit, which nurse had a secret boyfriend.

Logan laughed along with her, but my mind was somewhere else.

Watching her move her hands the way she always had, the way she’d done our whole lives, made something ache inside me.

How do I take her out of this place when she’s happy here?

It had always been the plan—move her into a small apartment, hire a full-time nurse, let her live as independently as possible.

But this was her home now.

And I had no fucking idea what to do about that.

The visit drained me in a way no workout ever could, and when we left, I felt wrung out, emptied.

I knew Logan did too, but we didn’t talk about it. We never did.

He dropped me off, and I stared at my front door for a solid minute, not ready to go inside, not ready to sit alone with the weight of it all.

So, I did what I always did.

I ran.

I worked out until my body ached.

And when none of that worked?

I found distractions. Like Michelle.

The thought of her sent a small rush of energy through me, enough to propel me through a shower and a change of clothes. Because we had unfinished business.

And this time, I wasn’t letting her walk away without a real explanation.

* * *

Fuck.

Michelle wore tight black yoga pants and an even tighter lime-green tank top that showcased a lot of skin and impressive muscles. She wore her long black hair on top of her head, and I bit my knuckle to stop myself from saying anything stupid. She had the same badass confidence that caught my attention two years ago, but the difference was the fact I knew how she sounded when she orgasmed. I knew how she tasted and what she liked, and I’m getting a goddamn hard-on.

“Bummy? You joining us?” Brigham Monaghan came up and slapped my shoulder. He wore a Soles shirt and a goofy smile. “Good for you.”

“Sorry to intrude. They made it seem like I was taking your spot since you hurt yourself. I can take off.” They invited me to rock climb with them and I jumped at the chance knowing Michelle would be there. But they said it was due to Brigs being hurt but now that he was here, I felt like an ass.

“Nah, no worries. This isn’t like golf. Stay around, dude.” He tilted his head in greeting to some passerby, and when his gaze landed on Michelle, his smile grew. “Shellie, you avoided me all week. When will you go out with me?”

Her gaze flicked to mine for a half second before she shook her head and laughed at Brigs. “Not in this lifetime or the next.”

He scoffed. “We’d be a beautiful couple.”

“Obviously, but you know my thoughts on this.” She greeted him with a hug and fully ignored me. Cool. Cool. Cool.

“You have time to fit in a lunch with me next week? I know you have to eat at some point. You aren’t a vampire.”

She flashed her teeth. “Yet.”

They both laughed and walked toward the instructor without paying me any more attention. While I wasn’t a full diva like some athletes, I didn’t like being ignored. The uncomfortable feeling in my chest had nothing to do with how easily Michelle talked to Brigham. They were close, and where I knew her body, she hid her real life from me. It was clear she didn’t hide it from Brigham, and that fact pissed me off. Years had gone by, yet jealousy swarmed me.

“Bummy, my man,” Gideon said, waving as he walked up to me with his fiancée. Fiona smiled, and I greeted them both with more enthusiasm than Michelle. We signed in, and they passed us waivers to read over. Once we initialed that we understood the risk, they pointed to belts lined up on the counter. They explained the process to me since I hadn’t climbed before, and it seemed easy to understand. It would be tough, but the harness and spotter prevented anyone from getting injured. I relaxed knowing this because my agent—and future manager—would not be pleased if I injured myself weeks before spring training started. The girls wanted to go first, and I remained back, studying the process and stretching since it would require muscles I wasn’t trained to use often.

It felt weird watching each muscle on Michelle’s body curve as she stretched from rock to rock, advancing up the rock wall. Her muscles tightened as she pushed off one rock to grip another, and it fascinated me to learn this new side to her. She was good at golf, liked physical activities and was in the same friend group with MLB players. The first round, she and Fiona went up while the guys remained below.

I attempted to focus on something other than Michelle’s ass, but my attempts never lasted more than five seconds.

“Won’t work, man.” Brigham approached me and gave me a knowing grin. “She doesn’t do baseball players. It’s a dumb rule, but I guess she did once, and the guy fucked her up. Don’t let her see you eyeing her like that, or she’ll call you out. Trust me. I try every day with her and get nowhere.”

Fucked her up? She couldn’t mean me.

Brigham looked like he wanted a response, so I nodded and forced a laugh. “Understood.”

He rambled on about the season, and I should’ve listened, because he had experience with the manager and the clubhouse guys who could make or break the chemistry, but it was difficult when Michelle was descending the wall. The spotter held on to the rope, but she missed a peg and slid down, yelping in response. She steadied herself and continued, but my goddamn heart raced.

I knew she couldn’t fall and get hurt. There were safety measures. But seeing her slip for a second was like a bolt of electricity hitting me, pushing my senses into overdrive and causing an abundance of adrenaline to pound through me like I was trying to steal second. Brigham followed my eyeline and scoffed. “She’s tough.”

“I’m sure,” I said, hoping I sounded chill, neutral. It startled me to be that protective over someone I hadn’t seen in two years, someone who’d ended things without a fucking word, and someone who’d made it clear we would never be more than a fling.

She got to the floor after a few minutes and undid the harness before eyeing me and Brigham. “You two gossiping?”

“About your fine ass, yes,” Brigham said. I put my face in my hands. “You almost busted it there.”

“I know.” She frowned and seemed disappointed in herself. “My timing sucked.”

“If I beat you, what do I get?” he teased, and I decided I hated their flirty friendship. I didn’t care if that made me possessive.

“Not a thing.” She walked by Brigham, went to the water fountain, and I followed her. She took her time drinking and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand before meeting my eyes.

“Are you alright?” I stepped closer to her and hid my smile at her increased pulse. “You’re favoring your left side a bit.”

She straightened, shoulders stiffening, a brief flicker of something soft, something unguarded flashing across her face. But before I could get a grip on it, she masked it, her expression impassive once more.

“I’ll be okay,” she said, voice even.

I had no doubt.

I sighed, crossing my arms to stop myself from doing something stupid—like tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear or tracing my fingers down the bare skin of her forearm just to see if she’d shiver.

There were a hundred things I wanted to ask her.

Why she ended us.

If she ever regretted it.

If she ever missed me like I missed her.

But before I could say anything, someone called my name.

We both turned toward the entrance as a woman approached.

“Lindsay?” I smiled, recognition clicking instantly. “It’s been a while, huh?”

Her grin was bright, familiar, and she walked straight into my arms for a quick, casual hug. Not too long, not too intimate, but just long enough to make Michelle’s posture lock up.

“Man, I used to see you all the time two years ago,” Lindsay said, stepping back.

I didn’t miss the way Michelle’s eyes narrowed, her arms crossing over her chest like she was holding something in. Interesting.

“You rock climb?” Lindsay asked, nodding toward the gear.

“Great question,” I teased, watching Michelle’s jaw tighten out of the corner of my eye. “I’ll be careful, or the coach will have my ass. And no, this is my first time.”

Lindsay smirked. “Ah, a climbing virgin. Be careful, Brooks.” She patted my arm, lingering just a little too long, and I felt Michelle’s stare like a heat wave against my skin.

I didn’t clear up how I knew Lindsay. I didn’t need to.

Michelle’s breathing had changed, her chest rising a little too quickly for someone who wasn’t affected.

“How’s your mom?” I asked, shifting gears, though I kept my voice low, my body still angled slightly toward Michelle.

Lindsay’s smile faltered. “She’s… hanging in there. Not as social these days with the new meds, but I’m hoping she’ll be herself again. She asked about the big guy the other day.”

I nodded, making a mental note to visit her. “Agnes is too sweet.”

“Well, enjoy your climb. I’m sure I’ll see you soon,” I said, and she waved as she walked away, joining the group she’d come with.

I turned back to Michelle, and damn—she was fuming.

Her brows knitted together, her lips pressed so tight they were almost white.

“Jealousy doesn’t look good on you.”

She scoffed, eyes flashing. “I’m not… This isn’t…” She made a sound in the back of her throat, somewhere between frustration and pure rage.

“It’s okay, Mitch,” I murmured, stepping closer, enough that I could see the way her pulse jumped at her throat. “I won’t tell anyone.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Tell anyone what?”

“That you still care,” I said, voice low, even.

Her breathing hitched, but she masked it fast.

“If you’re wondering, I’ve never slept with her,” I continued, watching her closely, tracking the way she stiffened. “Especially not two years ago when you and I were together.” I tilted my head. “You were more than enough to handle.”

Her gaze snapped to mine, a firestorm brewing in those dark eyes. “We weren’t exclusive,” she said, but her voice had a crack in it, something wavering, uncertain.

I stepped in closer, enough that our breaths mingled, enough that I could smell the faint trace of her shampoo, the same scent that clung to my sheets for days.

“Like hell,” I murmured.

The thought of her with someone else made my blood boil—which was insane because we were nothing to each other now.

And yet, I felt it, the same way I felt everything when it came to her.

She dropped her gaze for half a second, something hesitant flickering over her features. Then, she squared her shoulders, her walls snapping right back up.

“Fine,” she admitted, voice tight. “We were good together. Better than good.”

Something loosened in my chest.

“Thank fuck you finally admit it,” I said, exhaling, my relief annoying even me. “Did it kill you to say it?”

“Almost,” she said, a slow, smug smirk curling her lips. “Don’t make me regret it.”

I chuckled, reaching out without thinking, fingers curling lightly around her wrist. Her pulse thrummed under my touch, and I knew I shouldn’t be doing this—but for the life of me, I couldn’t stop.

“I’m not a total asshole,” I said, voice softer now. “You’re putting up all these stop signs with me, and I get it. I do. But it seems like we’re gonna be seeing a lot of each other, whether you like it or not.” I held her gaze, watching, waiting. “You’ve made yourself pretty clear, so I’ll step back.”

Her expression shifted—just slightly, just enough.

Her walls were strong, but for a second, I thought I saw a crack.

She nodded. “I appreciate it.” But the way she said it? It was almost regretful.

She exhaled, running a hand over her ponytail before offering a small, hesitant smile.

“Maybe we can try being friends?”

Friends.

I wanted to laugh.

Instead, I studied her, her determined expression, the way her fingers twisted together like she wasn’t sure she wanted to be saying this either.

Then, I grinned. “I could use a friend.”

Her brows lifted, suspicious. “Friends who don’t sleep together.”

I tilted my head. “Tomato, tomato. Everyone has their own definition of friends.”

Her eyes darkened, her posture tensing.

I smirked and held out my hand. “We’ll go to the rehearsal dinner and wedding, have a great time. You tell me about your life now, and I’ll hold doors open for you, friend .”

She stared at my outstretched hand, her lips parting like she wanted to argue, but then she just sighed, placing her palm against mine.

As soon as our fingers touched, a shock shot straight through me.

I didn’t let it show. But fuck, I felt it.

“This ought to be fun, huh?” I murmured, watching her carefully.

She didn’t pull away right away. And that was all I needed to know.