Page 18 of How to Prevent a Fumble

“You want to hang out with Uncle Owen tonight?” I ask Elara, and her eyes immediately bug out of her head as she nods.

“Alright. Eat the rest of your pasta and we’ll get you ready to go over, okay?”

As I get up, Leo comes down the stairs in jeans and a nice t-shirt that seems to hug every single crevice of his body, outlining every muscle. His dark hair is still wet from his shower, his beard trimmed.

I stop in my tracks. “What are you up to tonight?”

“Going out,” is all he says.

I pause. “Is that a good idea?”

His eyes narrow slightly in challenge. “I’m an adult, Briar. You don’t have to parent me.”

Not fifteen minutes ago I had to calm the feeling in the pit of my stomach as he thanked my daughter for his dinner, but something changed during that time, and I flinch back as his steely gaze rakes over my body.

“Okay, well, have fun,” I say coolly, heading to my room to get changed.

Trying not to stew too much, I throw on a pair of boot cut jeans and a bodysuit before heading across the hall to the other guest room Elara has been staying in to pack her backpack with games, her Walkman, and whatever else she may need while next door.

A knock at the door has me whipping around, jumping out of my skin.

Leo looks sheepish, his arm propped against the doorframe as he leans in. “I’m sorry for snapping at you. You didn’t deserve that. Thank you for dinner,” he says quietly.

I shake my head. It’s a little too late tonight. My guards are up. “It’s what you’re paying me for,” I assure him.

He watches me pick up one of her stuffed animals, shoving him in her bag a little too aggressively.

“Okay,” is all he says a couple minutes later. I don’t turn around to see him leave, but I can feel it. Feel the absence of his eyes on me. The lack of warmth.

But I shake it off.

The loud hum of voices hits me like a brick wall as Isla holdsopen the door for me. It’s a weekday, but that doesn’t mean Lulu’s isn’t going to be packed to the brim.

Taking my hand, Isla leads me through the sea of people, dodging elbows as we go. Eventually we come out the back, and with a flash of her smile, we’re let into the private back room where the players and their families tend to hang out. It’s not just for them, but throughout the years it’s slowly become the place to hang out for the Cobras, Owen and Isla included.

“Isla!” one of her friends calls, her silky black hair bouncing as she runs up to hug her.

I’ve met her friends a couple of times, and they’ve always been more than welcoming. Mila Fedorov is one of her best friends, and I think they lived together before she moved into her current place.

“Briar! I’m so excited you came out, it’s been so long!” I don’t actually think I’ve seen them since the Super Bowl party at the end of last season, and even then I stayed sober and went home early to make sure that Elara was in bed at a decent time.

“Glad to be out. You look amazing!” I tell her, surprising myself with a genuine smile. It’s been awhile since I’ve flashed one of those; the muscles almost feeling alien.

Mila turns, showing off her yellow dress with a smile as their other two friends, Amara and Heidi come up behind her.

Heidi has the fruitiest, pinkest drink I’ve ever seen in my life in her hand, while Amara balances three shots in hers, handing one to Isla and one to me.

“You guys celebrating something?” I ask with a smirk, smelling it. It smells like cherries.

“Amara’s catering company has been doing well!” Heidi grins, her voice high and melodical.

“That’s great!” After catering a couple of Isla’s showings, Amara decided that it was something she wanted to jumpinto. I’ve seen a couple of her posts online over the last couple of months, and it seems like she really loves it.

“And I got fired!” Heidi adds.

I pause. “Don’t you work for yourself?”

She nods, taking a sip of the pink monstrosity in her hand. “Yep! A client decided to go with a man. Can you believe that? We’ve worked together for a long time, too.”

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