I couldn’t fucking do this. I didn’t know how. How did someone say goodbye to the best person they’d ever known? How did you keep the overwhelming sorrow and bone-crushing pain from destroying you?

I didn’t have the first goddamn clue how to handle losing Will. It didn’t seem real. It wasn’t right or fair. He was the very best of all of us. It shouldn’t have been him. I’d have given anything for it to not have been him.

Sitting in the hard, uncomfortable pew, I stared ahead at the casket, trying to come to grips with the fact that one of my best friends, one of my brothers, was lying inside that goddamn box. Huge pictures of his grinning face rested on easels along both sides. Smaller framed photos of Will with his family, with his younger sister, with us, took up every inch of space that hadn’t been overrun by flowers.

Fucking flowers.

Because nothing says ‘sorry your loved one’s dead’ like a goddamn bouquet of roses and daisies. His family didn’t want flowers. They wanted their fucking boy back. The last thing a grieving person wanted to deal with was keeping something alive after someone they loved just died. With every dead flower came the reminder of their loss all over again.

Fuck you, fucking flower companies.

The sound of metal on metal pulled my attention from those pictures to Mace sitting on my left.

“Goddamn it,” I growled under my breath as he finished twisting the cap off his flask and brought it to his lips. “Get your shit together, asshole.”

Mason’s red-rimmed eyes came to me in a glower. “Fuck off,” he grumbled, taking another pull. “I need this to get through today.”

I didn’t know what the hell was happening with him, or why he seemed so determined to pickle his liver before the age of thirty-five, but something had to give, and it had to give fucking fast.

“No, what you need is to pull your head outta your ass and put the goddamn flask away. Lyla deserves better than to have to deal with your drunken bullshit the same day she puts her brother in the ground.”

Our whispered argument stopped when Mace’s face fell, and he slowly put the flask back in his inside jacket pocket.

“Sorry,” he grunted quietly. “I’ll get my shit together.”

Lifting my hand, I gave him a pat on the back. I knew he, Garrett, and Kill were taking this just as hard as I was. The only silver lining in this whole disaster was the fact that Gwen seemed to have gotten her head together and came back to Garrett.

After everything that went down with our ex-manager helping that bitch Kimber leak her and their daughter’s pictures worldwide, I was worried she was gone for good. I couldn’t stand to see him as miserable as I’d been when I lost Tate. Then we got news of Will, and I couldn’t take it anymore. So, I tracked Baby Mama down and spelled it out for her. She belonged with Garret, and he belonged with her.

Luckily, she actually listened to me. Unlike a certain heartless redhead.

Speaking of….

I lifted my eyes for what had to be the thousandth time, scanning the pews around us for any sight of her. I was certain she’d have been sitting in the row right in front of us, with Lyla. I might not have talked to her in years, but Will had. And the bastard had made a point to rub my fuckup in my face every chance he got, so I knew those two women were tight. But she was nowhere to be found.

Lyla was currently sitting between her and Will’s mom and dad, her head down, her shoulders shaking as the minister carried on about my brother being in a better place.

Fuck that. He should’ve been here.

“Second row from the back,” Killian muttered from my other side. When I looked at him in confusion, he continued from the corner of his mouth. “Tatum’s in the second row from the back. You didn’t really think she’d skip out on this, did you?”

When I turned to look over my shoulder, sure enough, the first thing that caught my attention was that familiar fiery hair. Her head was down, shoulders slumped, and I could see the tears falling from her cheeks. Every fiber of my being wanted to get up and go to her. Christ, I’d never been able to stand it when she cried. It gutted me. Every tear was a shard of glass piercing my heart. But then an arm reached around her, resting on her shoulders, and when I glanced to the side, I saw that prick Camden Knight holding her. I wanted to rip that arm off and shove it so far up his ass his fingers would tickle his throat.

“Chill,” Garrett whispered, leaning over Kill to talk to me. “This isn’t the time or the place for you to lose your cool. And they’re just friends.”

“How the fuck would you know?” I asked.

“Because she told me a couple weeks ago, asshole. Now relax, will you?”

It took every ounce of control I had, but I somehow managed to smother the anger smoldering in my gut and focus on the minister spewing a bunch of shit no one wanted to hear about time healing wounds, and seeing them again on the other side.

By the grace of God, I managed to keep my mouth shut as I glared at the bastard at the podium, but with every word he said, I retaliated in my head.

Fuck you. Fuck this. Fuck all that stupid bullshit, you stupid motherfucker.

It didn’t help one damn bit

* * *

Tatum

The service had been beautiful, or at least I assumed that was the case. I hadn’t been able to lift my head. I couldn’t see the casket, or the pictures of Will’s handsome smiling face. The pain was too unbearable. I sniffled and cried while trite, clichéd words were spoken about a man who’d been stolen from all of us far too soon.

We went from the funeral home to the gravesite, and I spent that time staring at the bright green grass beneath my shoes, thinking that the vivid colors of the bright sunny day were a contradiction to the somber, depressing mood hanging in the air around all of us. The cheerful day only made me that much angrier.

There was nothing anyone could do or say at a time such as this to make those who loved him feel any better. I was in a sinking pit of despair, and rationally, I knew that only time would help me to navigate my way out. But right then all I wanted to do was curl up in a ball and wallow in it. It felt like the agonizing sense of loss would never fade.

“You sure you don’t want me to go with you?”

I looked up at Camden and offered a small, sad grin. It was the best I was able to do. Everything hurt—my eyes, my head, my heart, my soul. Granted, the first two were due to crying nonstop since Lyla’s call a few days before. I wasn’t sure if the last two would ever stop hurting.

“Trust me, I’d give anything to be able to take you with me, but this is something I have to do on my own. I need to be there for Lyla. The last thing she needs is a big drama because Declan and I are in the same room together for the first time in a decade. I just don’t trust him not to cause a scene if I walk in with you.”

Camden’s gorgeous face twisted in a furious frown. “I don’t give a shit about that asshole. I care about you. I don’t want you to have to do this alone, Tate. Will was like a brother to you.”

I placed my hand on his arm and tried for a genuine smile this time. “I won’t be alone, honey. I’ll have Lyla, and she’ll have me. It’ll be fine. And I’ll call you as soon as I leave.”

He looked like he wanted to push further, but gratefully decided to let it be. “You promise?”

“I swear. As soon as I leave.”

“Fine,” he huffed, blowing out a long, beleaguered breath. “You staying with your folks again tonight?”

I nodded, swallowing thickly, unable to answer out loud. Since the call, I’d been crashing in my old bedroom at my parents’ house, needing the security and comfort only they could provide.

“Okay, I’ll be there when you get back. I’m crashing there tonight.”

My nose began to sting with a frsh wave of tears, only that time they were of relief. “You don’t have to,” I whispered, mainly because I felt I had to at least give him an out.

“I know I don’t have to. I want to. You’re my best friend, Tate. I’m going to be here for you whether you like it or not.”

“You’re my best friend too,” I managed to croak past the golf ball in my throat. “And if you want to torture yourself by sleeping in that twin bed my parents keep in the guest room, then you won’t get any argument from me.”

Camden’s arms came around me like two strong metal bands, holding me securely. That was one of the reasons he was my best friend. He always knew exactly what I needed before I even had a chance to tell him.

“Thank you,” I said in a hushed voice as I laid my cheek on his chest. “Thank you for being here. Thank you for being my friend.”

“I’ll always be your friend, babycakes. Never doubt that. Now get going. Go be with Lyla. And give her my love. Tell her I’m thinking of her.”

We separated, and I headed to my car just feet away from Will’s gravesite. I made the drive to Lyla and Will’s parents’ house in complete silence. I didn’t let myself think about seeing him again, or what I would say, if anything. I didn’t let myself think about how unbearably sad I was, or how much I was going to miss Will. I put all my focus on Lyla. I tried to figure out how I could help her, how I could make this easier. If that was even possible.

Less than half of the people who’d been at the service were at the house, the family having opted to keep this part of the day to only those closest to Will.

Putting the car in Park, I closed my eyes and pulled in a deep, stuttered breath. “Miss you,” I whispered to the heavens. “I’ll miss you forever, Will.”

Once I was back in control and no longer at risk of breaking down in a fit of tears for the billionth time, I cut the ignition and climbed out.

Walking through that familiar door without hearing Will’s loud, boisterous “Tater tot!” was a knife to the heart.

I scanned the faces, unseeing until my gaze landed on my friend, and then I made a beeline right to her.

“Lyla,” I breathed, wrapping my arms around her the second I reached her side. She returned my embrace, her arms squeezing so tight my ribs groaned in protest. “I’m so sorry.”

“Tate. I’m so glad you’re here. When I didn’t see you at the service—”

“I was in the back,” I whispered close to her ear, still holding on for dear life. “I wouldn’t have missed it for anything, you know that. But I didn’t want to cause any problems.”

“You could never cause any problems, honey. I love you. You’re welcome anywhere at any time.”

Just as we pulled apart and wiped the tears from our faces, a gruff, gravelly voice spoke my name. The first sincere smile of the past couple days finally spread across my face as I moved into Garrett’s warm embrace. Camden hadn’t been kidding—the dude looked like he belonged on a Viking ship, not behind a drum kit.

When we broke apart, I noticed the woman he’d had with him at the AMAs was by his side, the same woman whose face had been plastered across millions celebrity trash magazines lately. Her expression of uncertainty tugged at my heartstrings. I totally understood why she’d be feeling a little uncomfortable. Wanting to put her mind at ease, I moved to her and gave her a hug, making sure to keep smiling when we broke apart.

“You must be Gwen. I’ve heard so much about you. I’m glad to finally meet you in person.

She gaped for a few seconds, unprepared for my kindness before stammering, “I—you… uh, you have?”

I could see why Garrett was so enamored with the brunette beauty. She was adorable.

“Sure. We ran into each other in LA. He couldn’t stop talking about you. I’ve been dying to meet the woman who was able to tame the caveman.”

At my teasing barb, Garrett scoffed. “Please, you know I was the easiest one to deal with out of all those assholes.”

He wasn’t wrong about that. But instead of admitting it, I rolled my eyes and gave my head a shake.

“It’s nice to meet you too,” she finally said. “Garrett had nothing but nice things to say about you.”

That statement warmed my chest at the same time that familiar ache reappeared. These guys had been my brothers, my family. God, I’d missed them like crazy.

Pushing the melancholy back, I kept up the playful façade, and laughed. “I highly doubt that,” I said, smacking Garrett in the ribs. “This guy was like a brother to me growing up, so I was basically the annoying sister following them around, getting in their way.”

Killian and Mason showed up just then, each of them greeting me like a long-lost family member finally returned home.

I’m not going to cry. I am not going to cry.

Just as I worried I’d burst into tears all over again, he spoke. One word, two syllables.

“Tatum.”

And I could’ve sworn my brain exploded.