Page 124 of How to Prevent a Fumble

“Jesus christ Briar, I got surgery on my foot not my fucking mouth. I’m fine to eat anything you make. Just bring it when it’s ready.”

She looks at the ground, worrying her lip as she tucks her hair behind her ear. And I hate it. I hate hurting her, and I hate that the venom just spews out.

I want to go to her, but I can’t. Want to hold her in my arms.

But. I. Can’t.

“Listen,” I say, but she’s already out the door, her footsteps echoing down the stairs.

I’m not sure if I want to know how much more I can fuck it all up.

Our bye week vacation was effectively canceled. I let the guys know that they could go without me, but they said that they didn’t want to. It made sense, considering Cooper was on the fence anyways, and Emmett and Briar were working on making sure there was a nanny there to watch both kids.

But the fact that I was the reason they all had to cancel their vacations also didn’t sit right to me.

“Fuck!” I yell, pounding the bed.

Fuck. God fucking dammit.

Everything good. I fuck upeverythingin my life that’s good.

My hands fist at my sides, my nails digging into my flesh as I attempt to relax myself. And when I can’t, I close my eyes, allowing the pain medication to take me over, and as sleep finds me, I hope, beg, and pray that I can keep it together.

Another knock on my bedroom door wakes me out of the fog of sleep. Without waiting to be invited in, Briar swings the door open, a plate with a burrito and rice in her hand.

“I have food. Do you need help sitting up?” she asks.

I shake my head, wincing as I use all my strength to get myself up right against my headboard.

“I heard from your publicist today, she wants me to?—”

“I don’t care,” I snap before I can stop myself.

Briar’s eyes harden as her head tilts. “What do you mean you don’t care?”

“I mean I don’t care. You can go off and do whatever you want. I need to get back to my old self,” I mumble, taking the plate.

“You… want to get back to your old life,” she says slowly, as if sounding out each word individually.

“You’re off the hook. You can still stay here for a while, I’m going to need help, but after you’re off the hook.”

Briar stairs at me for a long time.

Too long.

And finally, just as I’m about to open my mouth and say something that will most definitely get me into more trouble, she stands, heading for the door.

Just as she’s about to cross the threshold, she turns, her eyes welling with tears. “You know Leo? Fuck you.”

38

BRIAR

Leo lashing out is expected. What’s not expected is the hurt I feel.

I wanted this. I wanted the pain. I wanted the angst. I wanted to be yelled at. I wanted to be discarded.

But this pain isn’t as familiar as I thought it would be.

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