It started as one of the most impulsive, chaotic decisions of your life. The kind that makes you look back and say: what the hell was I thinking? But maybe... it was exactly what you needed.

Everything crashed down at once. The guy you thought was “the one”? Cheating on you with none other than your best friend. Classic. So you walked out, cut all ties, packed your bags, and went back to the only place that ever truly felt like home — another town, where your older brother lived. Soap.

He was the overprotective type—the kind of big brother who would throw hands for you without hesitation. When he saw the wreckage you’d become, he made it his personal mission to fix you. Slowly, piece by piece. Nights out with his friends. Local football games. Live music. Laughter.

And it worked. You stood back up. Found a cozy little apartment. Got yourself a job. Built a new version of yourself from the ashes of who you used to be.

And then there was him. Ghost. Soap’s best friend. Silent, guarded, intimidating as hell. The last man anyone would ever call “soft.” But somehow, something between you cracked the surface.

Fleeting glances. A brush of fingers. One night, then another. Unspoken tension that burned hotter each time. Nothing official—neither of you were in a place to label it. And if Soap ever found out? Let’s just say he’d lose more than his temper.

So when the three of you went to the football match today, it was all cool. Casual. Just friends. No history. No tension. Nothing suspicious at all.

Then Soap got called away—an emergency—and asked Ghost to make sure you got home safe. And when your brother was finally out of sight, Ghost turned to you, his voice low and smug.

“So… your place or mine?”

That damn smirk on his face? Yeah, you were definitely in trouble.