Chapter Seventeen

AS JOSHarrived for the lock-in Saturday morning, the charged atmosphere at Hamilton High School hit him like a wave. Cars filled the parking lot, while demonstrators and concerned citizens mingled, their voices blending into a cacophonous chorus. News vans from San Diego stations idled nearby, cameras rolling as reporters documented the tense scene. In the distance, Principal Carver and the librarians engaged in animated conversation with one of the TV reporters, their expressions determined.

Josh’s heart chugged. Last thing he needed during the next twenty-odd hours. Press was good, but they needed to focus on the library and the kids’ access to books. He just wanted to stay out of the public eye.

Rather than risk a run-in with any vultures, he parked his truck behind the gym and slipped through the dim locker room to enter the school. As he walked down the hallway, the faint echoes of the crowd outside filtered in, reminding him of the stakes.

He couldn’t help but glance at his phone again, the screen stubbornly devoid of any messages or calls from Tyler. His chest tightened. It’d only been a day and a half, but the ominous silence worried the hell out of him. Something must have happened.

Stepping out of the gymnasium, he froze.

A light was on in the athletics office. He could see a hot sliver under the door. Just what he needed: ESPN going through his dirty socks.

He inched forward, praying that the tabloids hadn’t gotten that crazy.

When he opened it, Elise popped up from behind her desk, looking guilty. “Hey, Josh!” she called out, her eyes twinkling. She was wearing duck-themed footie pajamas. “Ready for the lock-in?” She bent again, shifting something back there.

He exhaled in relief. For one second he’d thought the press had found another way inside. He circled her desk.

She was busy loading one of the team manager’s red plastic wagons with chips, bottled water, and home-baked brownies. The lock-in was scheduled to take just over twenty hours, so the cafeteria had prepped sandwiches, wraps, and water, but snacks were another way to raise funds. “I’m on the fence. Gatorade or no?”

“I say skip it. You’re good,” he replied, forcing a smile. “I just need to change into something more lock-in friendly.”

She waggled her brows. “Well, if you need a hand, sailor….”

Josh ducked into the little bathroom and quickly changed into sweatpants, socks, and a threadbare Hamilton Class of ’08 T-shirt. Tyler couldn’t be here, but this was a dumb way to make him feel closer.

When he emerged, Elise had finished piling the wagon and slung her purse over her shoulder, her jittery excitement palpable.

“Looking good, Coach,” she said with a wink. She gave him an approving once-over. “Nice!” She pointed at the T-shirt and at herself. “Oh-eight. I see what you did there.” Then she froze and clutched his arm. “He’s not coming, is he?”

Josh shook his head. This might turn out to be a long night. “Who?”

“Fantana.” She peered at his shirt again. “I mean… he graduated in 2008. Is he, like, a midnight surprise or something? Pop out of a cake waving his big sword?”

“He’s on the road right now. They’re playing the Cowboys next week.”

“Right. Sure. NFL stuff.” She chewed her lip thoughtfully. “I just thought he might surprise you. That’d be super romantic.”

“No.” He trudged forward. Elise didn’t understand what she was doing. He just needed to survive the night.

Elise clutched his arm again. “I’m so psyched for tonight. I get to read chapter forty-five… you know, the conjugal one.” She made it sound salacious.

Josh squinted at that. “Well, it’s not as racy as it sounds. It was written in the nineteenth century and printed in the newspaper.”

“Oh, I read it to practice. Just so I didn’t mess up.” She grinned mischievously. “But conjugal makes it sound dirty, so Meredith wanted a teacher to take it. Got to make sure none of the jackasses try and sex it up too much.”

Josh chuckled as he took the wagon handle from her. “I’m sure you’ll keep them in line.” He held out an arm to escort her back to the library. “Shall we, milady?”

They headed out into the empty hallway, the squeaky wheels echoing off the lockers.

“So,” Elise began, glancing sidelong at Josh. “You and Captain Asstastic, huh? How’s that going?”

Josh tensed. Elise meant well, but her hinting and probing felt unpleasant, like being investigated by a cow’s tongue. “It’s… going,” he said carefully. He glanced at her with vague concern.

She was just dazzled by the fantasy. Surely Elise would never say anything to the press. He hated thinking it but hated the serious possibility almost as much. His students always talked about being famous. If this was being famous, it sucked big-time.

Josh maintained a calm exterior as Elise prodded him about the salacious stories and pictures of him and Tyler online, but internally he was churning. He worried that the world saw their relationship as a joke, just a famous jock slumming it with a small-town dweeb. Even worse, Tyler’s feelings might turn out to be a fleeting fling in the heat of his recovery—not the deep bond Josh had felt.

“Long distance is tough, but we’re making it work.”

“I bet,” Elise said, nudging him. “Dating a celebrity. America’s Tightest End, huh? You must get swarmed with paparazzi everywhere you go.”

“Elise.” Josh frowned. He hated feeling so exposed, like his private life was public property. “It’s not like that. And it’s nobody’s business but ours.”

Elise put her hands up, looking contrite. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I just think it’s exciting, is all.”

“Not even a little.” Josh frowned at the floor. “It’s not what everyone thinks. The attention. It’s not fun or even interesting. It’s like having strangers stick their fingers in you on a dark bus.”

Elise stopped walking and clutched his forearm. “Oh, honey. Oh, Josh, that’s awful.”

They walked in silence for a moment. Josh’s thoughts drifted to Tyler. He wished he could talk to him right now.

The crowd at the library doors was obviously getting big. He saw parents and kids with sleeping bags and pillows making their way inside. Everyone had planned for the long haul.

“I have a right!” Up ahead, a familiar skinny redhead brayed at the security guard who held her upper arm tightly. “Let go of me.”

Elise stiffened. “No way.”

“Ma’am, we’ve warned you. You understand the consequences. You’ve made several kids uncomfortable already.” Principal Carver was forcibly ejecting a pajama-clad Cilla Miller and scruffy crew out of the library’s front entrance toward the school doors and the parking lot.

Elise growled beside him. “You have got to be kidding.”

Cilla spat and twisted as she tried to get loose. “This is outrageous. This is assault.”

“You’re on school property and you’re making a nuisance of yourself. You cornered a fourteen-year-old—”

Elise stepped in front of Josh, blocking Cilla’s view. She raised her bandaged arm. “Bad mistake.”

“Coach Ayres!” The reporter’s voice cracked like a whip, and she struggled in Josh’s direction with little success. “Cilla Miller, Channel Twenty-four.” She waved at him. “I’ve talked to concerned locals right here in Cinnamar about the pornography this library gives children. Which you came here tonight to defend. You got a woman fired, Josh. Why are you so eager to corrupt—”

The kids and parents around her recoiled. Nobody wanted to take a side, but a couple of them raised phones to film her tirade.

Obviously whatever contrition and fear Cilla had felt a couple of nights ago had evaporated. She looked frantic and desperate.

Elise looked Josh in the eye and muttered, “First thing Monday morning I’m calling Channel Twenty-four. She has no clue what’s coming.”

He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.”

Cilla wasn’t giving up; she ducked under the security guard’s arm with her mic held out toward him. “Hey, Coach! Any comment on those naked photos of Tyler in Miami? Josh, is Tyler depressed? Did you dump him?” She showed her teeth like a piranha. “You can’t silence the truth.”

“Ma’am.” Carver blocked her advance, shielding Josh from the onslaught. “This is a school event. I’m going to file a formal complaint with your station. You know there will be consequences.”

“Josh, is it over? Have Tyler’s injuries caused erectile issues?” Cilla kept craning around Carver and Elise while the guards held her flailing arms from behind. “Is he back to partying again? Joshua, the people have a right—”

Cilla’s voice vanished as the doors closed.

A couple of families turned to look at him to see his reaction. Embarrassed? Disgusted? Afraid? All of the above?

Josh stood silent. With everyone’s eyes on him, he felt like a freak. Worse than high school.

Elise glowered at Cilla. “Jeez. What a piece of work.” She turned and saw his face. “Oh. Oh, honey.”

He shook his head, cheeks burning, and exhaled. “Exciting enough?”

“I forgot.” Elise touched his arm gently. “I didn’t even think. I wasn’t thinking.”

“It’s okay,” Josh said. “You didn’t mean any harm.”

Elise smiled. “You’re safe. We got musketeers and brownies. What can go wrong?”

They’d reached the entrance, where Meredith was checking folks in. Around them, kids and parents milled about, swapping snacks, cradling pillows and blankets for later.

Elise touched Josh’s arm. “Really, I’m sorry,” she said softly. “Your life is yours. I’d never say anything, do anything. I hope you know that. Josh?”

He nodded, exhaling slowly, wishing he did know that. Not trusting anyone really taxed the heck out of his goodwill. “I know. Let’s just focus on the books tonight.” He ducked inside the library.

Josh allowed himself to be steered back toward the front entrance, where Carver, ever the politician, was greeting parents. Overall the library looked great. The atmosphere was cozy and communal, cushioned nooks clustered with chatting friends and families. This was what Tyler had meant: interactivity. Remind people the library is alive.

If only Tyler were with him too. But Josh’s boyfriend was far away tonight, making this separation sting even more.

Shoving down his longing, Josh focused on the kids’ anticipation. He would make this a wonderful night for them no matter his own mess. Saving the library meant something real. The tale of the musketeers, loyal friends fighting for honor, was just what he needed right now.

The room felt buzzy and ready to rock. All the drama of a curtain time and a live audience, without any rehearsal. Parents and local do-gooders stood like friendly sentinels around the perimeter, scanning the crowd and helping folks get situated. After the Cilla Miller scrum, Principal Carver seemed to have taken it upon himself to guard the entrance like a Doberman.

Stan and Meredith stood and gave Josh a thumbs-up. That meant most of the names on the list were checked off. Meredith would man the door for the duration.

Stan started to move toward the microphone to kick things off.

“Josh… thanks for organizing this whole deal,” Meredith said. “We’ll never be able to thank you properly. Or Tyler. You guys have been like guardian angels for this place.”

“This library means a lot to me,” Josh replied. As Stan made his way through them, families hunkered down and lowered their voices, sharing bags of popcorn and sipping from cups of soda.

Meredith fussed over the potential mess. “Cleanup is going to be something.”

“You don’t worry ’bout that none,” drawled Otis from his post by the shelves. “I got three kids with detention who will be happy to work it off straightening things up in here.”

Josh nodded in approval before turning his attention to the main event. Nadia had snuck in at some point and was chatting with her old drama teacher.

For the next twenty-odd hours, students and faculty would be reading The Three Musketeers aloud, each participant taking a chapter. They’d start at ten and would probably finish around sunup Sunday morning. Meredith and Stan had set a comfortable schedule, with a couple of breaks and backup readers in case anyone bailed or balked. It wasn’t every day that a whole community came together to share a story.

Kids got practice speaking in public, the library seemed full and fun, and this particular story by Dumas was a humdinger.

As Tyler had pointed out, that was another benefit. Sitting down and reading a “classic” scared some people, but sharing a book like this took the sting away. If a kid got confused, someone could explain. If parents had never bothered, they had a chance to brush up on a great work in a safe space. Everybody won.

The excitement in the room was palpable. Teachers in casual clothes gossiped and compared notes. Students whispered excitedly about which chapter they’d been assigned and how they planned to make it fun for the audience.

At the doors, Carver and Meredith were letting the last few stragglers in, pointing them toward possible seats.

“All right, folks!” Stan called out, rallying the crowd. “We’re going to kick off! Remember, we have sixty-eight chapters, no duds in the bunch. Snacks for sale along the wall and simple meal options courtesy of the cafeteria. Bathrooms down on the left.” He pointed toward them. “I just want to thank everyone who helped put this together, but especially Josh Ayres and Tyler Fantana, who proposed this whole deal, spread the word, found us sponsors, and so much more.” He nodded at Josh, who stepped over and claimed the microphone from him.

“Thanks, everyone. Put your hands together for the librarians, who keep this library alive and healthy for our whole community.”

They did.

Carver nodded and made a show of locking the doors.

“All of you are now prisoners for a day and a night.” A couple of kids cheered, and the whole room applauded. Meredith and Elise gave him a thumbs-up. “We are locked in with some of the most powerful creatures in the world. Right on those shelves, magical beasts. Back before Christmas, our very own Tyler Fantana reminded me that libraries are alive. It’s easy to forget because the books can only move us and change the world when we pay attention to them.”

“Hear! Hear!” Mrs. Grappo and her husband applauded, along with one of the new English teachers.

Josh nodded at them in gratitude. “Before we unlock those doors in the morning and turn you loose again, we’re reading every single word of The Three Musketeers by Alexandre Dumas.” He grinned.

What he wouldn’t give for Tyler to be here.

“Dumas. Note the pronunciation. I don’t speak French, but it’s pronounced ‘doom-ah’ not ‘dumb ass.’ If anybody wants a dumbass, you’ll have to go back outside, because all the dumbasses are out there trying to stop you from reading the books on these shelves.” He winked.

The crowd laughed and clapped again. Josh relaxed. He’d been worried someone would get offended, but obviously people who read books didn’t mind a little off-color humor. Doreen blushed, but Nadia laughed loud and winked back at him.

He smiled. “Now Monsieur Dumas had a phenomenal life. His father was born into slavery and then freed. His mother was a society heiress. Dumas was born when Thomas Jefferson was president, and grew up mixed-race in France. He became famous as a playwright, a party monster with forty mistresses, the most generous man of his era. He’s remembered as one of the most successful authors of all time, with a string of swashbucklers he wove out of his own life and forgotten bits of history. But what he knew better than anyone was fun.”

Josh couldn’t help but think of Tyler: their sunrise runs, the Renaissance Faire they’d visited together, the quiet secrets that had forged an unbreakable bond between them. He missed him more than ever, but this event was too important to wallow.

“Before we start, I want to say this. Books matter. Words matter.” He smiled and put the pages of the first chapter on the podium. “All for one, one for all.”

And so he began.

“On the first Monday of the month of April, 1625….”

Rather than a stiff or “correct” reading, Josh did his best to bring the story to life, using different voices for the narrator and dialogue, adding dramatic pauses and comedic sounds, melodramatic looks, even making the sounds of horses galloping and swords clashing. The audience got into it right away, gasping at zingers as they munched their snacks.

As he read, Josh’s thoughts turned to Tyler again. More than anything, he wished his boyfriend could be here to see how it had all come together. At the Renaissance Faire, Tyler had reminded him, “The books are static, just sitting there. Bring them to life.”

He hoped he was doing that, transporting the crowd to seventeenth-century France. In a way, this felt like reading a bedtime story to an entire room full of eager, rowdy children. Everyone, young and old, gave their full attention, nodding at the best bits, riveted by the characters.

More subtly, Josh saw the other readers dotting the edges of the room, clutching their pages. He tried to show them how to have fun, to cut loose, to make silly faces if it would help the story along. By leaning into the words, Josh didn’t have to work all that hard. Dumas’s sentences did most of the work. All he had to do was keep his voice animated and listen to the story as it unspooled.

Tyler had said something about that too. That back when books were luxuries and not many people could read, every story had been written to be read aloud. The keen listening faces proved him right.

Josh neared the end of his chapter faster than he’d expected. The crowd sat perched, edge of their seats. He looked up to see Vicky standing to his side, waiting in the wings with cheeks pink and a twinkle in her eye. Holding her rolled pages, she looked excited to keep the ball in the air. He nodded at her, and she nodded back.

We got this.

He felt a swell of pride. This reading was bringing the community together and showing how vital books and stories were. Josh knew Tyler would be proud too. Now he just had to make it through the rest of the book missing the man he loved.

The room applauded as Josh stepped aside to let Vicky take over. As she enthusiastically dove into the story, adopting silly voices for the characters, Josh glanced around at the rapt faces in the crowd. Kids and adults alike looked invested already.

During a brief lull as Vicky paused to take a sip of water, Josh did a quick head count. Nearly everyone who had signed up had shown. Mr. Chan had promised to stick around at least through chapter fourteen, which he was reading. Mrs. Grappo had come with her husband, and both of them were taking chapters. It was amazing to see the town collaborate like this, united by a shared love of books. If this evening succeeded, they had a real resource moving forward.

His gaze landed on Carver, hovering by the doors. Josh caught his eye and gave a little wave and an encouraging smile. All safe, no more press foolishness.

Josh tuned back into the story just in time to hear Vicky finish the chapter with a dramatic flourish. The whole audience crowed at the cliffhanger and erupted into applause. As the next reader headed up to the mic, Josh made his way around the room, checking on the food set up by the drama kids, chatting with parents, and making sure the students were still engaged.

Mostly, though, his mind kept drifting to Tyler. He wondered what he was doing right now. Josh pictured him in a hotel room somewhere, hopefully getting some good sleep after a punishing practice. Or maybe he was back in San Diego already. He wasn’t sure.

As the day advanced and the chapters whizzed by, Josh caught himself just listening along at several points. This hundred-and-eighty-year-old story really had everything: romance, betrayal, slapstick, swordfights, disguises, seductions. It kept people nailed to their chairs. Dumas was no dummy.

Even during the breaks when people scurried to use the toilets, grab a sandwich, or top up their snacks, they talked about the story, the characters, the living history that made up the background.

“Had you read this?” One mom turned to a friend and mumbled, “I had no idea. This is better than Real Housewives.”

The friend pooched her lips. “Honey, this is better than dating The Bachelor.”

Josh chuckled and drifted away. Mission accomplished.

Up front, parents and their kids had drifted over to make requests of the librarians. Meredith started to keep a list of requested titles, everything from The Wizard of Oz to Beowulf to Don Quixote. It made sense. When you love a book, you want to share it with people you care about.

Around six that night, during the dinner break, Josh checked his phone. Still nothing from Tyler. By now all the attendees had changed into sweats and pajamas. The French teacher got swamped with questions about titles and traditions. A trio of Josh’s tenth graders asked about the actual musketeers, and he told them he’d recommend some history titles after class tomorrow if they wanted to stick around.

What the book did was make the room curious. The kids and the parents. Even the faculty in some cases. The more Josh thought about it, the more potential he saw. The entire Hamilton staff seemed to agree.

Sometime around four in the morning, after the poisoning at the convent, Carver came up to him looking very serious. “Coach… I hope you realize what you’ve done.”

Josh shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

“I got kids trying to sign up for classes next year. Teachers who want to propose electives and after-school programs. Sanjay’s family wants to sponsor a lock-in next month. The theater department wants to teach fencing.” Carver shook his hand with a warm smile. “I wish Mr. Fantana was here to see what he started. This is way beyond those book-ban jerks.”

“Good. I’m really glad, sir. Tyler predicted this. But this is only the start.” Josh tipped his head.

Carver squinted. “It is?”

He leaned in conspiratorially. “Think about it. Let’s say you got a couple teachers wanting to cover a complicated era or a thorny topic—we can set them up for success. Get kids interested beforehand. Plant the seeds here. Help parents help them with the homework. Everybody tuned in, coming together.”

Carver nodded. “All for one, one for all. Cooperation.”

“Exactly. They work together to do the right thing because the right thing is hard. A community solving a problem with honor.” Josh looked around this old room. How many hours of his life had he spent hiding in here, growing in here? How many books had his name written on the checkout cards in their back covers? “That’s what a library wants to be.”

“Josh… I’m overwhelmed. I’m… I’m so grateful.” Carver’s voice dropped. “I wish Tyler was here so I could thank him too, but this is unbelievable. You have to tell him. Please let him know from the entire school. What you two have done is going to change lives.”

“I’m so glad, Phil.” He sighed.

All because Tyler had put on a pair of tights and kidnapped him. Josh hoped he was staying safe, wherever he was.

Josh was pulled from his reverie as Stan tapped him on the shoulder.

“We’re almost to the epilogue.” He gestured to the front, where, with ghoulish glee, the Hernandez twins had just finished acting out Milady’s execution in chapter sixty-six.

Josh nodded, a bittersweet feeling washing over him. On the one hand, he was excited to wrap up such a successful event. But ending the book also meant the lock-in was nearly over. Outside, the sun was coming up.

Next came Nadia, who got a massive round of applause as she came forward to claim the mic for chapter sixty-seven as only she could, and then Josh headed to the front to tackle the bittersweet finale.

Eighty-something pairs of sleepy but attentive eyes turned to him as he began to read.

Dumas’s wrap-up was characteristically satisfying, and Josh animated it with gusto. When he reached the last sentence, he paused to look over the crowd and delivered it with a slow and satisfied smile:

“…the opinion of those who seemed to be best informed was that he was fed and lodged in some royal castle, at the expense of his generous Eminence.”

As he read the final words, a cheer went up from the crowd.

“Thank you, everyone. And remember….” Josh capped the whole event with his favorite quote from the book: “Never fear quarrels, but seek adventures.”

As everyone packed up, Josh said his goodbyes, exchanging thanks and handshakes with the parents. Kids gave him high fives, their faces lit with excitement as they chattered about the story and asked about next month’s lock-in, which didn’t exist yet.

“We’ll see. We’ll see.” Josh knew it would happen but wasn’t sure if he’d be as involved. Everything depended on what happened with Tyler.

Parents hugged sleepy children as the attendees stood smiling and gathered their things to head home. Blankets got folded, hampers closed. Grateful families carried some of the dozing younger siblings who had conked out.

With a sigh, Josh turned to help Carver, Meredith, Otis, and the others clean up, which took much less time than anyone expected. Several of the football players had volunteered to clear up trash and sort recyclables. A few enthusiastic parents lingered and pitched in to move the furniture back where it belonged.

After the last few stragglers had left, Josh stood looking out at the empty library, filled with a sense of accomplishment tinged with melancholy. They had done it. He was beyond exhausted, but grateful. Now all that was left was to find out what had happened to Tyler yesterday.

“Hey-hey.” Stan slowly ambled over to him and gave him a big bear hug. “Six grand in one night. Parents gave us six thousand dollars for new titles and programs. Meredith cried when she counted it. Thank you so much, Josh.”

Josh cracked his back and his neck and started stacking chairs outside in the hallway. Through the big doors, he could see the new day outside, a peachy glow creeping up the hall. A couple of weeks ago he would have been stretching on the track, waiting for Tyler. He glanced down the hall toward the athletic office. Before he headed home, he’d zip in and take a hot shower.

His phone rang in his pocket. His heart sped as he fished it out. Sure enough—

“Tyler? Hey! I can’t believe you’re up. Hi.”

“Hi, baby. It’s been… uhh. It’s been something is what.” On the end of the line, Tyler sounded hoarse and weary. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. It’s so good to hear your voice. Oh my God. We just finished. Hi.” He was smiling so hard it hurt.

“How did it go?” Tyler asked.

“What go?”

Tyler laughed. “Three Musketeers. The lock-in. C’mon, you’re killing me.”

“Oh! Amazing. I can’t even explain.” Josh paced down the hall to get a little privacy. “Way better than we hoped. Better than anything you could have expected.”

Tyler’s voice got low and sexy, which was even better. “Well now. I was expecting a whole lot, Coach.”

“Well, whatever it was, we topped it. Whatever you had in mind, we beat it by miles.” Josh reached the athletics office and unlocked the door. “Carver said thank you. The parents, the students, everyone sends massive thanks to you personally. We missed you.”

“Sorry. I tried to get there. I wanted to surprise you so bad. I would have given just about anything, but the coaches threw a fit.”

“Don’t worry about it. You were here all the same.” Josh skinned out of his shirt and sweats.

“Good.” Tyler exhaled, sounding happy and exhausted himself. “God, I miss you.”

“You don’t even know.” Josh sat down at his desk and tugged off his socks. He wiggled his toes. “As it happens, I was just about to shower.”

Tyler groaned. “Are you trying to kill me, Coach?”

“Long hot shower. Here I am, all alone in briefs, and I’m feeling pretty dirty. But that’s all you need to know, big guy.”

“Evil.”

Josh twisted to stretch and grunted.

“Come on!” Tyler made an impatient sound. “I can hear that.”

“Hear what?” Josh lowered his voice. “Tyler Fantana, I am not having phone sex sitting in school.” He stretched again, his bones creaking. “Mmmph. I’m just stopping to rinse off, and then I’m about to go home and sleep for a month.”

Tyler sighed in his ear. “Yes, please.”

“You’re welcome to join me. Open invite. You know the way. I’ll be naked and leave the door open.”

“I wish.”

Josh nodded. “You okay? You sound funny.”

“I… I think so.” Tyler didn’t elaborate, and the pause started to feel awkward.

Something had to be seriously wrong. “Tyler?”

“Yeah. No. They… uh… called me up to the office this morning. Well, yesterday now. I overslept and they sent the car. I met with Boris and the coaches to hear their dire predictions and stupid ideas.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s nothing. Dummies being dummies. My agent will take care of it. I don’t want you to worry.” Tyler sighed. “Congratulations, huh? I’ll call tonight. Or better, you call me whenever you wake up. Enjoy that big, lonely shower.” He chuckled. “Good luck getting clean without me.” Tyler hung up.

Josh looked at the phone in his hand a moment. Something way off there. He turned on the shower and tested the temperature with his hand, making sure it got hot enough to wake him up for the drive home.

The spray pelting his face and muscles felt incredible, but he kept replaying the last several seconds of the phone call as he scrubbed and rinsed. Something had gone wrong. Tyler would tell him the next time they talked.