Page 38 of How to Prevent a Fumble

“Where are you going tonight?” Briar asks, leaning against the kitchen island.

Grabbing my wallet and keys, I shove them into the pockets of my jeans.

“It’s Cooper’s birthday, and we’re going to dinner.”

“Sounds like a cute date,” she says, and I roll my eyes as she smirks.

“You guys doing anything fun tonight?” I ask her. Elara has been in her room playing with Champ.

“Probably just going for a little walk, but nothing too special.”

“Stay safe, okay?” I tell her. A city is a city, and I always get nervous about her going out alone.

“We have a guard dog with us, we’ll be okay.”

Champ wouldn’t hurt a fly. In fact, she’s frequently seen losing her mind over a bug, but she refuses to just eat it.

“Yeah, sure,” I say, my lips pressed firmly together.

“Please don’t get into trouble, okay?” Briar says, her eyes intense on mine.

I sigh. “What in the world could I possibly do to get in trouble?”

We’re just going to dinner. And maybe somewhere after. I’m not quite sure. But either way, I’m going to be on my best behavior.

“You’ve been doing so well. Just don’t want you to lose all the progress because you decided to be an idiot for one night, okay?” she holds up her hands.

While some would be offended, I wear the title with a badge of honor. “I would never be an idiot, Briar,” I hold a hand to my chest. “I am simply a degenerate. Totally different things.”

I watch her fight a smile, and when she can’t, she looks down to hide it, examining her feet.

“I swear I’ll be a good boy, okay? Is that what you want to hear?”

She nods.

“Pinky swear.”

Whether he wants to admit it or not, Cooper is one of the biggest foodies I know. Whenever he goes out to eat with friends it always has to be a big production, whether it’s his birthday or a regular day.

Which is why we’re at one of the most expensive restaurants in the entire city, sitting in a large booth with at least twenty people.

While some are guys from the team, like Owen, Dirwin, and Emmett, there’s a couple of guys I don’t recognize.

“You guys ready for the season?” one of his friends asks. He’s a tall kid, a little shorter than I am. He runs a hand through his dark hair, and his tattoos catch my eye. I’ll have to ask him where he got them done later.

“I think so. We’ll see. We don’t have an easy schedule this year, that’s for sure.”

Which is true. As prepared as I think we are, this season isn’t going to be easy for us no matter what.

“Well I’ll be rooting for you all,” he says as he takes a sip of his whiskey.

Cooper turns to us, finished with a conversation he was having with someone else on the other side. “Did I introduce everyone? I forget if I did or not. Damon and I have been friends forever,” he slaps the guy's chest. “Went to school together, then the fucker went off the grid for awhile.”

Damon smirks, the glass at his lips. “A journey to self-discovery.”

“Yeah, whatever the fuck that means,” Cooper laughs, already fairly plastered. “Anyways. Came back and told me he now has a freaking dog named after me. How cool is that?”

Damon shakes his head. “The dog was named Cooper before I met him, Coop.”

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