Page 8 of How to Prevent a Fumble
“You can think about it if you’d like.”
She looks behind her, watching as Elara stands on my couch, her mom’s phone in her hand, singing a song.
“I don’t want to tell Owen right now.”
I nod. “That’s fine, but you need to tell him at some point. I’m not having him catch you coming into my home and beating the crap out of me.” A small part of me is curious about why she doesn’t want to tell him, but as nosy as I am, I don’t want to scare her off.
She shoots me a look, her eyes drifting over my shoulders.
Owen is a big guy, but nowhere near as big as I am. As one of the biggest quarterbacks in the league, my size and the way I run the ball beingunnaturalis a talking point every single year.
Owen is my best friend, but there’s no world in which he wins in a fight with me.
“So you’re not trying to get revenge on my brother?”
I roll my eyes. “No, I’m not trying to,” my eyes flicker to Elara quickly, remembering she’s here. “I’m not trying to fuck you,” I whisper with an eye roll.
Her eyes thin as she studies my face, her nose scrunching so faintly I almost miss it. After what feels like five minutes, her eyes lower, her white teeth biting into her bottom lip asshe rolls her shoulders. “Can I have a couple days to think about it?” she asks.
“Yes.”
Her shoulders slump as she sighs, her hands fidgeting in front of her.
“Briar, I promise I’m not trying to pull one over on you or anyone. I don’t want to deal with hiring someone, or dealing with any idiot my team hires for me.”
A smirk graces her lips but is gone as fast as it came. “Youhavebeen a little out of control lately,” she tells me.
My jaw ticks.
“What I’m trying to say is you don’t have to go to that job tonight. You don’t have to worry about finding something else. You don’t even have to worry about your ex-husband.”
Her brown eyes meet mine, sparkling with something I can’t quite place. “He’s going to reach out to you, you know that, right? And if it’s not you, he probably knows someone associated with your team. If he finds out I’m working for you he’s going to try to make issues.”
“Then I’ll deal with that when it happens. He’s not going to get very far. If you haven’t heard, I’m a little bit of a hard head.”
Studying my face, I watch as she relaxes once more. Or, as relaxed as Briar Crosby can be.
But a second later she’s rigid again. “I think we should set some ground rules,” she tells me firmly.
I nod, crossing my arms across my chest. “Whatever you want.”
“Can I swing by tomorrow to discuss?”
I watch as Elara flings herself against the back of my couch, letting out a loud yawn. “You guys are going back to your place? Even with issues?”
Briar’s lips tighten as she looks back at her daughter as she pulls the small blanket off the back of my couch, holding it under her chin as she stares at the phone.
Her shoulders slumping in defeat, Briar looks up at me from under her eyelashes, and it’s the first time I really see how tired she is. The circles under her eyes, the way she carries herself. She’s exhausted.
“Last room on the left. Best room in the house.”
“Leo I’m not?—”
“Other than my room,” I tell her with a wink.
“There it is.”
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