Page 155 of Relationship Goals

Luke glances over at me. “I’m proud of you, Abigail.”

“For shaking pills at you?” I flutter my eyelashes, tucking the pill bottle back in my purse.

“For everything you’re doing for your mental health.”

“I could say the same to you.” I nudge him with my elbow. “Look at us. Therapy! Who would have thought.”

“I think everyone would have thought,” he says in his gruff voice.

I laugh again, just so damned happy to be next to him, to be happy, to be giving us another shot. A real shot.

“That’s fair,” I finally agree, lacing my fingers through where his hand rests on my thigh.

He glances over at me, a huge smile on his face, before shaking his head and returning his attention to the awful traffic.

“What?” I ask, laughing at his expression.

“It’s just so fucking good to have you next to me. Seeing you in real life, you know? You’re so goddamn beautiful.”

“Better watch that dirty mouth or I’ll just have to kiss it,” I say, amused and so totally beyond happy.

“Not sure that’s the threat you want it to be,” he says.

“What if I told you I hadn’t brushed my teeth in three days because I know that morning breath is your kink, along with a certain cellist?”

“That’s fucking gross,” he tells me finally, blessedly exiting the highway…only for us to get stuck in traffic again nearly immediately.

“You’re gross,” I tell him. “I’m just trying to match your dirty mouth, Mr. Yellow Card.”

“I knew you were going to bring that up. Listen, that ref was being an asshole, and he deserved someone to tell him that.”

“Mm-hmm,” I agree. “Definitely.”

“If you don’t stop making fun of me, you’re going to wish Lauren’s Pilates classes had done more work on pulling up your anus.”

“Are you…threatening me with butt stuff?” I’m slightly shocked, and that doesn’t happen a lot.

“It’s not a punishment if you keep asking for it,” he says, a wicked grin on his face.

I flip my hair over one shoulder, rolling my eyes. “I was simply exploring our options.”

“You want me to explore Uranus.”

My jaw drops, and I poke him in the ribs, making him laugh. “How long have you been waiting to say that?” I finally ask.

He just grins, turning onto the road that will take us to the Staples Center, ahem, I mean, the good ole Crypto venue.

“You practiced it in the mirror, didn’t you?” I insist. “Did you workshop it with Gold?”

“Maybe,” he admits.

I burst out laughing. “I knew it.”

“When Gold laughed so hard that Marino thought he was having an asthma attack, I decided I had a winner.”

“Bunch of man-children,” I mutter, but I’m holding back a laugh, a fizzy feeling of delight in my chest.

“It made you laugh, too,” he says seriously.

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