Bryce was off-limits. Your big brother made that clear.

“Stay away from my friends,” he’d warned. And for the most part, you listened. But Bryce? Bryce made it impossible.

But Bryce was always around. Loud, annoying, too confident for his own good. Always tossing a wink your way like it meant nothing.

Then came that late evening—everyone was in the backyard after the game, music low, people scattered in small groups. You went to grab a drink from the cooler, and there he was, already reaching in.

Your hands brushed. He looked up.

For once, he didn’t laugh or roll his eyes. He just… paused.

“Didn’t think you’d show,” he said, voice quieter than usual.