Sensing his doubt, DeMar says, “I told you, baby, it was the tour and everything else. It was just too much for me.”
And there’s that baby again. Josh stretches as he stands—his shirt rises a bit, exposing his stomach, but when he notices DeMar looking, he smoothes the fabric down to hide his abdomen. “Do you know how hard it was for me to walk away? I told myself it was for the best. I told myself you didn’t need me—”
“But I do.” DeMar reaches for him, snags the hem of his shirt, and tries to pull Josh closer by fisting his hand in the material.
Josh shakes him away. “If you needed me, you would’ve told me what was wrong. You would’ve let me help you.”
DeMar sighs and tugs harder. No dice—Josh doesn’t budge. “I don’t know what was wrong,” he says. “I was depressed, that’s all. Don’t y
