Page 80 of How to Prevent a Fumble

The game goes by in a blur as the girls and I sit just outside of the suite. Elara has eaten too many hotdogs to count, and I’ve gotten a little too excited about the buffet of nachos. Beer has been drunk and Isla somehow managed to have several large bags of peach rings delivered, which sit in her lap as she nervously shoves them into her mouth.

The team has played well, but the defense has been rusty, as they always are coming off of training camp, and they’ve given up a couple of touchdowns.

We’re down six points.

Leo throws a screen pass to Owen, who only barely manages to escape a couple defensive linemen, breaking free and running it in for a touchdown.

My baby brother drops the ball in the endzone, pointing up at us. Well, to Isla.

It’s their tradition.

With seconds left in the game, the defense holds it down, and the Cobras win their first game of the season.

And as the crowd erupts into cheers, I can’t help but feelpride bloom in my chest. Not the usual pride I have for my brother’s accomplishments, no.

The pride I feel today belongs to someone else.

24

LEO

Owen once told me that having someone to play for fills you with another kind of drive. At the time, I didn’t believe him.

But knowing I was going to go home to someone proud of me was another type of feeling. Something I can’t quite describe.

Briar Crosby was going to be at home, hopefully proud of me, and somehow that counted more than the win ever would.

In fact, I was so excited to get home and see her that when the guys asked if I wanted to go out after the game for our usual celebrations, I told them no. I wanted to get home and spend time with her, and I know she’s not going to want to go out after how social she’s been in the last few days.

I think about the list tucked into my bedside table and wonder when the perfect time to draw her a bath is.

“Okay Leo, don’t fuck this up. Everything’s good,” I tell myself as I breathe deeply, getting out of my car.

The elevators are unreasonably slow tonight, and I tap my foot, counting the seconds down in my head.

When I’m finally at my floor, I walk briskly to my door,dropping my keys as I go to unlock the door. And when I’m in, all I can smell is garlic bread.

My mouth instantly starts watering as I come out into the kitchen to find fresh garlic bread sliced up on the counter, along with a large bowl of pasta and salad.

My stomach growls, and I look around, looking for Briar and Elara, but I don’t see either of them. I don’t hear anything, either.

Heading down the hall to check if they’re in Briar’s room, I stop as I walk past the office, hearing a hushed voice.

“You’re not doing this,” I hear her say, and as I push the door open just slightly, I find her standing in the middle of the room, facing away from me with her hand on her hip. “I get to live my life, Tony.”

She pauses as he says something, I assume, which clearly isn’t good as she throws her head back with a groan.

Closing the door again, I wait, not wanting to be caught eavesdropping.

A couple minutes later, I hear her angrily hang up, and the door is thrown open.

Although I’m not standing directly outside of the door, I’m standing close enough for it to be a surprise when she sees me, and she steps backward, nearly losing her balance.

“Are you okay?” I ask as I catch her, steading her. It’s when I’m in front of her, close enough to really see her face in the dim light that I realize her eyes are shiny, tears running down her beautiful face.

“Yeah,” she says, turning from me and continuing down the hall without a second glance.

“Briar,” I start, following her.

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