Page 6 of How to Prevent a Fumble

“Briar, what's going on?”

Her eyes meet mine, warm as honey, and I instantly melt.

I always do.

Briar Crosby may be an ice queen, but her eyes are my ultimate weakness.

“I—”she begins, but tosses her hands up.

“We don’t have hot water,” Elara says finally, crossing her arms.

“Our landlord was supposed to fix it,” Briar says quickly. “But they haven’t. Of course. We need to move to a better place, but I need a job first, and I had a place offer to hire me on and off, but it’s this fancy wine bar and the shifts are pretty late at night. They wanted me there tonight.”

The first thing I thought waswhy the hell does she need a job?Doesn’t she have one? Or wouldn’t Owen give her money? I know she’s divorced, but I don’t know the details of it. Couldn’t she bring Elara there?

“You’re telling me you need a whole other job in order to afford a place with working water?” I deadpan, uncrossing my arms and running a hand through my hair.

“Dad doesn’t give her much,” Elara says, and her mom rears back, hurt on her face.

I’m not really one for kids. They’re not really my thing. But even I can admit that a kid knowing that is heartbreaking.

Instead of arguing with her, or even telling her that she’s wrong, Briar looks at me, her eyes brimming with tears.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen Briar cry. Never thought it was possible.

And I’m not going to.

Reaching out, I put my hand on her shoulder, directing them through my door.

“What are you doing?” she hisses, her tears instantly drying as annoyance surges inside her.

“Please just cooperate, just this one time,” I ask, closing the door behind them.

“Wow, you’re rich,” Elara whispers, looking around.

I don’t think that my place looks that crazy, but I won’t lie and say it doesn’t look impressive, especially for a kid.

She walks over to the kitchen island, running her hand along the sleek silver lining it. “Like a spaceship,” she says, her eyes wide as she looks around.

“What do you want, Leo?” Briar turns to me, a frown on her pretty face as she places her arms over her chest.

“I want you to tell me why you need a second job to get housing.”

“I have housing.”

“Good housing. With hot water.”

“And a working toilet,” Elara says, much to her mother’s dismay.

My eyes widen as I stare at Briar.

“That’s also a new development,” she huffs. “Elara, honey, take my phone and go into the family room please.”

“I can play games?”

“Yes, Pumpkin, play whatever games you want. Just let us talk for a few minutes, okay?”

She doesn’t have to ask twice. With a nod of her little blonde head, Elara is off running with her mom’s phone, already unlocked and ready to go. She tosses herself onto my couch, looking like a small potato compared to the size of it, and after a second her head appears over the back of it.

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