Chapter 26
26
LEO
T he first thing I do when I get home from our game is grab a pizza from my favorite 24/hour spot. The second thing I do is go home and find Briar. It’s been days without seeing her, and for some reason, that’s all I want.
It was the middle of the night when we got on the plane to come home, and I’m shocked that she’s not up yet. Checking the time, I find it’s nine in the morning on a Monday.
She’s always up around five, when I usually leave for training and my first workout of the day.
I wonder if her alarm just didn’t go off, and I’m about to wake her up when I realize that maybe, just maybe, she wakes up that early for my benefit, and she’s taking the opportunity to sleep in.
Shaking myself, I walk back out to the family room. I have a meeting in a bit, and then after that I was going to ask her if she wanted to go on a date.
For her, it’s a fake date.
For me, it’s another chance to make her develop real feelings for me past the idea of her seeing me as just my brother’s stupid best friend who I’m trying to help .
“Hi Leo,” a small voice says from the hallway. I turn, watching as Elara walks into the room, her eyes sleepy as she stretches with a large yawn.
I never liked kids. Never wanted them. I’m still not sure what I want for myself, but having Elara around has changed my mind just a little bit.
“Hey, your mom have a late night?” I ask, not wanting to pry but also, well, who am I kidding I’m absolutely trying to pry.
“She was watching your game until late,” she shrugs. “I fell asleep early. Sorry Leo, it was boring.”
A slow smile creeps across my lips. Trust kids to tell you how it is. “It was quite a boring game, wasn’t it?”
We won, which was amazing. Especially since we get today mostly free, and don’t have to deal with Coach up our asses about everything we did wrong. That being said, the other team sucked, and it was honestly a bloodbath.
Most of the time easy wins are great, but I can see how it can be boring to watch. Especially for a kid.
She nods, climbing into the stool at the kitchen island. I lean against my forearms as she speaks. “Yeah. You guys need to find ways to make it more entertaining. Like seriously, I love staying up late but it was a snooze fest.”
The thing about kids is that they’re honest, but they also usually repeat things they’ve heard before.
I’m not going to ask who said that.
“I’ll definitely try to make it better for you next week, alright?” She nods. “Okay cool. Now,” I perch my chin on my hands, “what do you want for breakfast?”
She thinks for a minute, her chin between her thumb and index finger. “French toast me, homie,” she says, slapping the table.
My brows furrow as I stand. “Where in the world do you learn these things?”
She shrugs, yawning again. “Mom. ”
“Your mom says the word homie? ”
She considers this. “No. But I’ve heard it.”
Clearly.
Turning around, I go to gather ingredients before realizing… I have no idea how to make French toast.
I turn back to her. “You don’t happen to know what I’ll need to make that, right?”
She shakes her head.
My lips clamp together as I take out my phone, looking up a basic recipe. “Okay, eggs, I think we have those.”
I check the fridge, indeed finding eggs. Taking them out, I toss them gently to the counter before turning back. “Milk? Uh, maybe oat milk?” I scan the contents of the fridge, realizing that we’re out. “Your mom usually goes to the store on Mondays, doesn’t she?”
Elara nods dramatically. “Yep. She hates the crowds on the weekend.”
Makes sense.
“Okay, well,” my eyes land on the sweet cream coffee creamer and I pull it out. “We only need a splash, so we’re going with this.”
Elara crosses her arms over her body, sitting back and watching me like a foreman at a construction site.
“The final two things are vanilla and cinnamon. What is vanilla extract? Have I ever owned it?” I mutter, looking in each cabinet.
After five minutes of searching and absolutely no help from the small child sitting at the kitchen island, I finally find them both in one of my cabinets, way in the back. Grabbing the bread and a baking dish, I get to work.
“Do you have syrup?” Elara asks, eyeing me.
Oh god, do I have syrup?
That would be unfortunate.
Returning to my fridge, I check to see if I have syrup in there. “Do you know where syrup is stored? Does it get refrigerated?”
Elara shrugs.
“Thank you for the help,” I mutter.
“You’re welcome,” she responds.
Annoyed, I start my search once more, finally finding a small thing of syrup in the back of a different cabinet.
Once a few slices are cooked, I add them to a plate and push it toward Elara.
“Do we have orange juice?” she asks, already digging in.
“You could get it yourself you know,” I say, but I’m already at the fridge, pulling it out. Grabbing a cup, I fill it before pushing it toward her and placing more soggy bread on the skillet.
“Leo! I’m so sorry,” Briar’s voice echoes around the room, filled with panic. I turn, watching as she adjusts her small bottoms to cover more of her ass. I do everything I can to keep my eyes off her chest, her nipples peeking through the thin fabric of her small shirt.
“It’s okay, I got her everything she needs.”
“I’m the one who's supposed to be making you food though. I thought you guys were going to be away for longer.”
I shrug. I didn’t tell her when we were going to be home, so it’s really not an issue at all. And even if I had told her, she’s allowed to sleep in sometimes. “It’s okay, I promise.”
“Leo got me juice!” Elara declares, lifting her cup.
“Did you help him?”
“Help me?” I ask.
“She helps me make her breakfast most of the time,” she says, kissing the top of Elara’s head.
I scowl at her as she sticks her tongue out at me. “She was a great help,” I lie, recognizing her game.
Ten minutes later, the three of us are digging into French toast, and I realize that I’m having what feels like family breakfast for the first time in years.
It’s something I want to keep doing.
“There’s not a single thing you could wear that you would look terrible in,” I tell Briar from outside her bedroom.
“You’re not the one we have to worry about, Leo. It’s everyone else.”
“Everyone thinks you’re too good for me,” I tell her simply. Because they do. Ever since the first photos were published, my comment sections have been flooded with comments about how I’m going to end up hurting my best friend’s sister. It didn’t take long for them to realize who Briar was.
When Crosby was asked about it after our last game, he said that he thinks we’re perfect together, which has seemed to help some. He did well for the camera, but I could tell by the way he winced coming into the locker room that the words were like vinegar on his tongue.
“Thanks for doing that, man,” I had told him, pulling him in for a hug.
“I didn’t do it for you,” he assured me.
Despite his words hurting, I understood them. All it did was make the drive stronger to be someone who deserves her.
“I doubt that,” she says, and I hear her walking toward the door. A second later, it swings open, and the air leaves my lungs.
Because Briar Crosby is gorgeous. Well, she’s always gorgeous. But tonight?
She looks down at herself, pulling on her short leather skirt just slightly, as if to cover herself more .
“Is this too much?” she asks, spreading her arms out.
I shake my head, because no. I don’t even understand why she’d ask that. Nothing is ever too much for her. She could be wearing nothing and it wouldn’t be too much.
Wait, I think this is scrambling my brain.
Her wearing nothing would be just for me.
“I—”
“I knew it, one minute, I’m going to throw on something else,” she says, closing the door.
But I place my arm in the way, preventing it from shutting.
“Briar,” I stop her, my hand on her wrist. “You look gorgeous.”
She stills, her eyes moving to where our skin meets before slowly drifting up my arm and to my face.
“You have to say that,” she whispers quietly, her eyes dropping to the floor.
Letting go of her arm, I place my finger under her chin, forcing her to look at me. “Do I?”
“What?”
“Do I have to say that?”
“I—”
“Briar, I can go back and read our agreement again, but I don’t remember ever seeing a section that says I have to compliment you. Or that I have to tell you you’re beautiful.”
Her brows dip as she bites the inside of her cheek, her hands busying themselves by playing with her sleeve.
“Then why are you?”
I chuckle. “Because I’m trying this new thing where I tell the truth, Briar.”
Her cheeks grow pink as she studies me, and not for the first time, I feel like she’s seeing right through me. Like she knows exactly who I am, down to my very bones.
And not for the first time, I realize that it doesn’t scare me .
In fact, I want her to know more.
“Okay,” she whispers, bending down to grab her boots by the door.
Crossing her arms over herself, she pauses, grabbing a large knit cardigan from her bed and tugging it on. With one more glance in the mirror, she follows me down the hall and to the family room, where she tugs on her boots.
With one last sigh, she sends me a small smile. “I’m ready.”
The restaurant’s lights are down low as soft jazz music plays in the background. While Briar may have been nervous before, she hasn’t shown any sign of it since.
“What are you getting?”
“Probably a steak. What about you?”
She lets out a large breath, as if judging how she feels. “Probably pasta. Yeah. Pasta sounds really good.”
When the waiter comes, she asks for another amaretto sour.
“Is that the only thing you drink?” I ask her with a smirk.
“Nope,” she replies simply, popping the ‘p’ as she takes a sip of her water. “It’s just my favorite. It’s like an old lady’s drink you know? I love the taste and I can have a lot of them without getting plastered.”
The waiter comes back with our drinks, and the second she sees it, Briar frowns.
I’m not quite sure what’s happening, but I sit back, taking a sip of my bourbon and waiting to see what happens next.
Picking up the glass, she examines the amber liquid inside before stuffing her nose into the glass, taking a deep whiff. The moment she breathes in, her face twists in disgust and her shoulders slump. “God damn fancy restaurants,” she mutters with a frown.
And I’m confused. Really confused. “Is that not what you wanted?” I ask her.
“I haven’t had to deal with this issue in years because I’ve been, well, poor, but there are two very different kinds of amaretto sours. The good kind, and the expensive kind that people lie about enjoying.”
I can’t help but laugh, nearly spilling my own drink as her scowl narrows in on me. “What’s in the expensive version?”
“Bourbon, egg whites, and Satan himself,” she mutters, placing it back on the table.
I can’t help the howl of laughter that rips through me, all too aware of her steely gaze. “That’s so dramatic! What’s in the ones you like?”
“Amaretto, sweet and sour mix, and sprite,” she responds, her arms crossed right beneath her chest, her cleavage on full display for me.
If I didn’t know her better, I’d think she’s doing it on purpose.
“I think I can arrange for that,” I smile, waving over the waiter.
The man finishes with his table and makes his way over, shooting me a polite smile. “What can I get you, sir?”
“Can we order one more drink?”
“Was the one we made not up to standard?” he looks concerned, and I shake my head.
“No, but my girlfriend likes the simpler version, if you guys could make that?” Briar looks at me with a grateful smile, which is why I’m surprised when I say, “basically the kids version of an alcoholic beverage. Just, you know, with alcohol still.”
Her smile falters as her eyes narrow at me. The waiter smiles, nods, and heads off toward the bar .
“The children’s version?” she grits out.
I shrug. “Am I wrong?”
She thinks about it for a second before rolling her eyes sitting back in her chair.
“So what’s on the agenda for this week, Sunny?” I ask, picking at the basket of bread in the middle of the table.
She raises an eyebrow at me but otherwise doesn’t fight the pet name. “Well, I have to pick up some dry cleaning for you on Wednesday, which happens to be the same day Elara has a half-day at school.”
“Are you getting her?” I ask.
She shakes her head, her blonde hair swaying with the movement. “No, Heidi is. I have things to do, but I’ll be picking her up.”
“Is that okay with you?”
She thinks about this for a second. “Yes, it’s okay with me. I promise, Leo. She loves Heidi anyways. They’re like siblings I swear. The second Heidi comes over Elara asks her if she wants to hear the latest gossip. I don’t even know where she gets the gossip. She just has enough to talk to her about.”
I chuckle. It definitely sounds like her.
“You’re a good mom, you know that?”
Her brown eyes stare into mine, and I’m surprised to find trepidation in them as she bites her lip. “I’m not sure about that.”
Anger ripples through me as I watch her shrink before my eyes. “Why?”
She throws up her hands, but before she can answer, the waiter is back, handing her the drink. She takes it with a grateful smile and a shy thank you before taking a sip, her shoulders shimmying just slightly.
Putting her glass down, she sits back, her hands in her lap. “I was raised by two people who really didn’t care much about my brother and me. If I’m honest, I raised him half the time. I never wanted that for my kids. I was so focused on doing everything right. Everything so perfect, that nothing could possibly go wrong.
“I found a man I thought would be good for me. He had money and could take care of me and our future kids, and he was nice,” her shoulders slump as her eyes roll, “but the biggest red flag should have been that my mother loved him. Absolutely adored the guy. She said he would show me some responsibility. Balance me out.”
I can’t help but smirk a little. “Briar Crosby? Needing responsibility?”
She shoots me a look and I shut up as our food comes out. The waiter places our plates in front of us and leaves quietly, but we don’t touch them. “Not long after we got married he showed his true colors, and it wasn’t long before I was somehow pregnant despite being on birth control. I had my suspicions, and Zara offered to bring me to a clinic. He wanted me stuck with him, and she didn’t want me in that situation anymore.
“But I’m nothing if not stubborn and decided to stay. To have her. I’m glad I did, but sometimes I think about what I’ve put her through since. She was too young to remember the nights of me sleeping on the couch, crying, wishing I was anywhere but there, but she does remember the moving around. The not having a constant home. Having ramen every night because I can’t afford food and Tony had me fired again.”
I curl my fists, just about ready to punch a hole through a wall.
“I just think that I tried so hard to be a better mother than I had, that I ended up being worse.” She sits back, flicking hair that fell into her eyes behind her. I sit in silence for a moment, realizing that now is a moment I really need to learn to measure my words.
She sits comfortably in the silence, almost like a weight is off her shoulders as her fingers tap the cold glass of her drink before she picks it up and downs it in the matter of seconds.
“I think that makes you an even better mom,” I tell her finally, unsure if I’m saying the right words.
She could walk out right now. I could piss her off. She could look at me with disgust. I could never recover from this.
This is one thing I don’t want to mess up.
“I think that you put everything you could into raising her, and you’ve done brilliantly. Do you know how smart that kid is?” I shake my head. “Elara is one of the funniest, most intelligent kids I’ve ever met. And one of the sassiest, but that’s a good thing.”
Briar looks down, a small smile playing on her lips.
“Despite everything you’ve been through, and everything you continue to go through, you’ve raised one of the kindest, wittiest kids alive, Briar. She keeps me on my toes, that’s for sure. That’s something to be proud of.”
Her beautiful brown eyes meet mine, her eyes welling with tears, and for the first time in so, so long, I feel like I finally did the right thing.
“Motherhood is one of the greatest things I’ve ever experienced, but it’s also been one of the hardest, most taxing things. I just want to raise a good human,” she says simply.
“I think some people expect to be perfect, and to get everything right the first time. And the second time. And the third,” I pause. “But you’re doing what you can. You’re learning as you go, and that’s important too.”
Biting her pillowy lip, she nods. “Okay, I need us to change the subject,” she says quickly, grabbing her fork and digging into her dinner.
“You know we’re going to have to kiss at some point here soon, right?” I ask her, blurting out the first thing that came to mind .
She chuckles, flush creeping up her cheeks. “It’s really great that I’ve perfected the stage kiss then.”
I shake my head. “I don’t know if that’s going to fly for the press, Sunny.”
She shrugs, choosing to ignore me.