Page 17 of How to Prevent a Fumble

“This is quite a lot of eggs,” I nod before looking up.

And I stop.

Immediately dropping my gaze, my head spins. “I think I,” I sputter, turning around in place like a glitched sim. “I think I, uh, left something in my room.”

“What did you leave that you need right now? Eat breakfast with me!” he says, and I can tell he’s smiling at how squeamish I am.

Standing in place, I look up at the ceiling, taking a deep breath. “Can you go, I don’t know, put real pants on?”

I finally risk a look at his stupid face, and watch as he looks down at his sweats, pulling at the sides of them which only makes the fabric tighten around his… member. The thing is giant.

I gulp, thinking about how the thing is basically a weapon. I think it could take me out if I was hit with it.

Why the hell am I thinking about Leo Warner hitting me with his dick?

“I’m wearing pants,” he tells me with a frown, as if he doesn’t know what’s wrong.

“Those are not pants,” I scoff, waving my spatula around in the air at him.

“What are you freaking out about?” he asks, genuine confusion morphing his face.

“You’re not being serious, right?” I ask, unable to keep a straight face.

He lifts his arms, letting them drop dramatically.

“Leo you have… a whole fucking thing going on in your pants. I don’t care what you do with your morning activities but I don’t want to be subjected to it.”

He looks back down with a frown.

“What about him?”

I ignore his use of ‘him.’

“Your raging fucking boner, Leo,” I say as I cross my arms over my chest, the smell of burnt eggs suddenly overwhelming me. I turn, mixing them around before turning back.

Leo scoffs. “This isn’t a boner.” He rolls his eyes. “I’m actually embarrassed, really. This is me flaccid. Now that I think of it, you’reright. I don’t really want to subject you to my flaccid dick. Let me go change.”

My jaw drops as I watch him leap up the stairs, taking two at a time.

He came down in a pair of basketball pants. It was still a little visible.

“Thank you for dinner, Crosby.”

I salute him before going back to watching Elara eat as he disappears up the steps on the far side of the family room to his bedroom.

A few minutes later, my phone dings.

Isla Warner

Going to the bar tonight to get out. Want to come with? Owen will watch Elara.

I want to say no. I want to say no so badly.

But I don’t. I need to get out of this place. I need to be around other women. I need a little bit of a break from life. Just a little one.

Yeah, sure. I’ll be over soon.

They’re going to find out that I’m right next door eventually, but it’s not something I really feel like dealing with tonight.

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