Page 122 of How to Prevent a Fumble

The longer it takes her to answer, the more I can feel my heart shatter.

“I don’t know,” she says, her eyes dropping to the floor as her shoulders slump.

“Please tell me if there’s anything, at any point.”

“Yeah, I will,” she says quietly before turning toward her room.

And as positive as I try to stay, it’s so hard not to picture my heart going with her.

36

BRIAR

Ihaven’t really interacted with Leo in days, once again.

It’s this familiar dance with us every time. And I know that I’m the problem here. But he’s so understanding every time, and I hate him for it.

I just want this to be easy. Whichever way it has to be, there has to be an easier way, right?

He either hates me for constantly rejecting him so I start to lose feelings, or I just give into my desires. Out of those two options, I so desperately just wish he would hate me. More than anything, I just want him to yell at me. To scream at me and tell me to leave.

In this moment, for whatever reason, I just want something familiar. There’s a comfort in familiar, however hard that may be to understand. However hard that may be toget through.

Because of course I don’t want to be screamed at. Of course I don’t want to be kicked out of a place that’s become more like home than anywhere I’ve ever lived, even if I’d never admit it out loud. Of course I don’t want to suffer, and no amount of me wishing it’ll happen will ever excuse what I went through as okay.

I just want that familiar melancholic warmth ofrejection.

Rejection, I can move on from.

Desperately wanting someone I know will never want me long term is something I can’t move on from, no matter how hard I try, it seems.

Thanksgiving went by without a hitch. I stayed out of the way, mostly in my room curled up in my bed watching movies while Leo was home, trying desperately to stay out of the way. I left to take Champ for walks and to curl up with Elara, put her to bed, and the like. I had to keep her away from Leo too. Not for any other reason than she can be overwhelming, and he had a lot on his plate with Thanksgiving.

The apartment was filled with the most amazing smells while he cooked, and I could hear people coming and going as food was made. I hoped he had people to help him.

That specific event wasn’t in my job description, and I wasn’t about to go out and explain myself again.

So, I spent the day moping in my room.

And I spent that night in his family room, surrounded by friends, a glass of wine in my hand at all times, ignoring the pull I have toward him.

Even with his eyes on me the entire night, the drink in his hand at his lips as he watched me from across the room, our eyes locked and loaded with promises neither of us will ever be able to keep.

No matter how much he thinks he may be able to.

I could tell Zara had noticed, but with a shake of her head, I knew she wasn’t going to say anything, and she never did.

For that I was thankful.

“Back in the Warner jersey, are we?” Isla says, a knowing grin spread across her face as I walk toward the front of the suite.

“Was kinda locked into it when I wore it the first time, unfortunately,” I wince. When my brother had seen me in the Warner jersey, he had cringed but refused to say anything about it. In fact, he hasn’t said much to me at all in relation to Leo. He knew that I could handle myself when this whole thing first started, and he never wavered from that belief.

Part of me thinks he’s letting it play out to show Leo how much of a dick he was.

“Did his publicist say something about it?” she asks, handing me an ice cold coke.

I nod. “She called me to tell me how amazing it was, but mainly to remind me that if I wear the old one, it’ll start rumors that we broke up.”

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