Page 67 of Love on the Waiver Wire

“I’m looking out for you like I always have,” Leo says, clearly annoyed.

“You know what? Get fucked, Leo.” Isla doesn’t look at me once. She simply turns on her heel, flashing her middle finger at her brother, and walks away toward her friends.

He watches her go, making sure she’s safe with her friends and not somehow kidnapped on her short walk.

And then he turns to me, his eyes shooting fire. I feel like I’m being roasted on the spot.

“And what the fuck are you doing, man? What have I told you? What’s my one rule?” He starts walking toward me, trying to intimidate me.

He could, possibly. If there weren’t exactly three hairs on top of his bald little head.

I hold my hands up. “I’m not doing this with you.”

“You are doing this with me. Answer.”

“No.”

“Crosby.”

“Warner.”

I level him with a glare, my chest puffing. I can feel the rage building deep within me, and for a brief moment, I hate him.

I don’t really hate him. But I hate this. I hate how much he adores his sister. I hate how much he cares for her. And I mostly hate how he can’t see how anyone would be good for her.

“Are you just going to keep her holed up in that apartment for the rest of her life?” I ask, throwing my hands up. “Not allowing her to talk to anyone at all? Or live her life?”

Leo’s eyes narrow even more, and before I know it, he’s pulling me toward the back door.

“What the fuck man?”

“We need to talk.”

Leo bursts through the back door, grabbing a hundred-dollar bill from under his brown skirt around his waist—I’m not sure I want to know what he has under there—to hand to the person manning it so we’ll be let back in.

Pulling me a little down the alleyway, I’ve never been so sure I’m about to get the shit beat out of me.

But instead, Leo pushes me onto a bench, sighing has he plops down beside me, tossing his head back to get his little hairs out of his face. They fly back, blowing in the wind.

“What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t bullshit me, Owen.”

“We’re just friends,” I assure him, crossing my arms over my freezing chest. The bench is frigid under my ass.

“I didn’t think what I asked was that hard.”

“You can’t control her life like that, Leo.”

A silence settles between us as he leans forward, clasping his hands in front of him. Rubbing them together, he looks at me, his eyes sad. “Do you know why I do?”

“Why you control her?”

He shakes his head. “I’m not trying to control her. I’m trying to protect her.”

“She’s a grown woman. She doesn’t need you to protect her.”

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