Page 126 of How to Prevent a Fumble

God, he’s so fuckinginsufferable.

A knock on my door snaps me out of my thoughts, but I don’t answer, not that that stops him from peeking in.

“I need to talk to you,” Leo says, his face hard.

“I don’t have anything to say to you.”

“That doesn’t mean that I don’t have anything to say myself.” He opens the door wider, standing in the entrance with his arms crossed over his chest, his baseball hat turned backward on his head.

If he weren’t acting like such a fucking asshole I’d think he was hot like this. If he looked like this a month ago, I may have even let my guard down.

“Leo, I don’t need this.”

“I’m not trying to be a dick, I’m just trying to let you know that I think I can get someone else in here to help me in about two weeks.”

I look around, shocked. “You’re kicking me out.”

He doesn’t say anything.

“You know,” I chuckle. “I really thought you changed.”

He shrugs.

“Fuck you, Leo,” I hiss with as much venom as I can possibly muster. And I mean it.

“It’s not good for you here anymore, Briar. You need to go somewhere that’s better for you.”

“Because you know what’s best for me?”

Nothing.

“How are those therapy appointments coming, Leo?” I ask, tilting my head. Sitting on the side of my bed, I cross my legs, resting my palms on my knee.

“I haven’t been in a few weeks, why?”

“Because it’s really fucking obvious you haven’t been. Before subjecting anyone else to this bullshit, you may want to go.”

“I don’t need?—”

“Leo, if there is quite literally anyone on this goddamn planet who needs to go to therapy it’s you. Don’t youunderstand that? Instead, you feel better spiraling out of fucking control, and why? Because losing your absolute shit is the only thing you can control at the moment? You can’t control the team. You can’t control what happened to you. You can’t control me, so you’d rather push me away. You’d rather pusheveryonewho gives a single fuck about you away because it’s the only fucking way you can control a god damn thing. And years from now, when you look back on this, you’re going to realize that you fucked up. That you threw away something good because you were too in your poor feelings to understand how you were hurting other people for a quick break from self-pity.”

“You don’t care about me, Briar.”

“Since when have Ievershown you that I don’t care about you, Leo?”

He throws his hands up angrily, his nose fairing. “You made it clear to me months ago! And the day before Thanksgiving, Briar. You’ve made it clear numerous times that you only see this as a business transaction. So I’m letting you go. You’ve fulfilled your end of the bargain. You don’t have to deal with me anymore, okay? You can go off and do whatever the fuck you want to do on your own, without me, and you can date people you actually like.”

I pause, biting my cheek so hard the taste of copper floods my mouth. “Do you know that I’ve never felt anything close to what I felt for you back then?” I ask him steadily.

He pauses, his face red.

“I wanted you more than anything, Leo. But, this is fake. A pressure cooker of bad decisions. You’re you. I’m me. We’re so fucking different, and yet we’re both just desperate for someone to give us attention with no one else but the other here. The difference is, I have a daughter who looks up to you. A daughter who adores you. I have two hearts to care about. And while mine can maybe heal after you’re done with us, hers won’t. Because not only does her sperm donor notwant her, but the only other man she’s looked up to doesn’t either.”

His face softens for a moment. “I loved you, you know that?” he says quietly.

And I freeze.

“Don’t do this, Leo.”

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