My first love was my brother’s best friend.
A lead singer in their band.
A picture of rugged perfection.
And a drunk soul mate who couldn’t commit.
My second love was an arrogant baseball player.
A player in every sense of the word.
A smooth-talking, reliable best friend.
And a chance at something beautiful and true.
The problem with having a first and second love?
That would be loving them at the same time.
My story isn’t some sexy triangle.
It’s exquisite agony.
Fate gave me two men to love,
but none of us knew which one I could keep.
