Page 31 of The Score We Never Settled

My question isn’t lost on her, I’m sure. I’ve asked it over a million times at this point in our lives, but I never get an answer.

Well, not one I like.

“Briggs Kerrigan, are you on some type of psychotic break right now? Youliterallyjust lugged me into the woods like you’re going to murder me.”

“I’d rather fuck you; however, I don’t mind murdering Cruz Weston instead.”

“Be forreal,” she chides, glancing back toward the little gathering we left behind, but I catch her chin between my fingers and lift her head to look up at me and only me.

“I am for real. Everything that isn’t us right now is because ofhim.”

Layla tries to move herself from my grasp, but I only put a bit more pressure on it for added effect.

She’s not running from me this time. I’ve had enough of this fucking game we’ve been going at.

“No,” she argues. “It’s because you can’t seem to get past it. So, how many times do I need to endure your questions about the same damnguy, Briggs? When are you finally going to let it go?”

Abandonment issues.

I have them in droves.

My mother died, my father hated me, and I was left to deal with shit on my own. Adeline and Everly were there; they loved me, but it was nothing that could replace the kind of love I was missing from a parent.

Let alone someone I could see spending the rest of my life with.

“When you finally tell me you’re mine,” I answer honestly. “But, also, when can I rid him from the universe?”

Layla slaps my hand away, and I let her, releasing her face, but not giving anything else.

Like personal space.

Air.

Her ability to talk her way out of this conversation.

None of it.

“I don’t see either one of those happenin’ in your near future, Briggs. You shouldn’t have come home.”

“Why?” I press. “Because it’s hard to see me? Because you know damn well you can’t be happy without me? No one in the world can fuck you like me, Short Stop. And, even if they tried, you’d still be thinkin’ of me.”

“Doubtful.”

I love and hate that she spends zero time thinking of it. That her sass is easily tossed back at me because that’s just who Layla Jean is.

I just wish she’d spend some of that energy on her Uncle Ben instead of me sometimes.

“I should let you try,” I divulge evenly. “But, we both know the monster that lives inside my head won’t even allow you or anyone else a shot.”

“If a restrainin’ order won’t help, what will? Chains?”

“I’d love to see you do that.” And I don’t know why, but my dick just got harder from that measly little threat of hers. So much so that I prop my palm against the tree trunk by the side ofher head and lean in. “Make sure it’s a great amount of distance away, Mrs. Kerrigan. My obsession seems to have no bounds, but we can experiment with it.”

Her hands prop and shove at my chest, but I’m too damn big for her little frame to make a great effort to regain some damn room for herself.

I should give her that, but I refuse because she is intent on making me work for this.

And I don’t mind doingallthe work.