Page 168 of Texting, Trouble & Touchdowns
Lucian: I’ll make it up to you when I’m home. Dinner. Movie. Maybe you, naked, reading Pup’s Digest aloud while I try not to combust because you have a sexy voice.
Olivia: I’m not sleeping with you if you’re injured.
Lucian: Fine. I’ll heal faster.
Olivia: Please do. Because I’m tired. And I’d kind of like to fall asleep next to someone who snores a little and hogs the covers but also makes my pillow smell like cedar and cinnamon.
Lucian: Olivia.
Olivia: What?
Lucian: I love you.
Olivia: I know.
Lucian: Say it.
Olivia: Fine. I love you, Lucian. But if we don’t fix the drywall soon, I might leave you for a goat.
Lucian: Noted. Will bring toolbox and bribes. And maybe a ring pop. For vibes.
Olivia: You’re ridiculous.
Lucian: And yours. I’ll call Mike and see what I can do about the drywall.
Chapter Forty-Nine
Lucian: Final score: 27–10. No fumbles. Two touchdowns. And zero injuries.
Olivia: We’re clapping from the couch. Sarah’s wearing your hoodie like a cape. I’m drinking wine and pretending I’m not emotional.
Lucian: You’re emotional?
Olivia: Maybe. It’s not like I yelled, “That’s my man”.
Lucian: So . . . you watched?
Olivia: Every second. Even when they cut to a close-up of your angry squint. It was unreasonably attractive.
Lucian: That’s my game face. I practice it in the mirror before bed.
Olivia: Does that make me your bedtime routine?
Lucian: Always have been.
Olivia: (Beat) You looked good out there. Fast. Focused. Like yourself again.
Lucian: Felt like myself. Eventually. I kept picturing you in the bleachers, yelling at the refs like they offended your moral code.
Olivia: I do have a very strict moral code. No offside calls against my guy unless absolutely necessary.
Lucian: I miss you, Liv.
Olivia: I know.
Lucian: Not only in the “I want to kiss your mouth and do sinful things to your thighs” way—though, yes, that too. But also in the “I want to tell you about this new trainer who makes protein pancakes and plays Tchaikovsky during leg day” way.
Olivia: That sounds disturbing. I’m glad you’re telling me and not processing it alone.
