Page 50 of Texting, Trouble & Touchdowns
Jacob sounds seconds from combusting, every word tight and ready to blow.
And honestly?
It’s entertaining as fuck.
“That’s not what the Crawford Playbook says,” I remind him.
“You and your fucking family are going to make me burn that playbook,” he growls.
I mean, it’s not as though it physically exists.
But if it did?
It’d be a beautifully annotated, handcrafted guide to life—meticulously curated by my parents, my siblings, and me. A sacred text detailing all the ways to navigate life and the game.
Hockey.
Football.
And for Scottie? Soccer, business, and how to be a kickass woman in a world of men.
In any case, the book technically doesn’t exist, but there are a bunch of rules that we pretend are in said family playbook.
Jacob has sworn on multiple occasions he wants to burn it to the ground. I wouldn’t put it past him to create it just for the sake of symbolically setting it on fire.
“Jacob, let me walk you through something important.”
“I swear to God?—”
I ignore him. “Section Four, Subsection C: When You Go Rogue, Commit. It clearly states?—”
“Lucian, I swear to God, I’m dropping your ass right now if you keep making up shit about this playbook.”
I grin, stretching out on the couch so Luna can be more comfortable. “‘If you’re caught in the act of something ridiculous, double down. Publicly. With full confidence. Bonus points if you pretend you don’t understand why people are mad.’”
“I hate you. I hate your entire family. I need a drink.”
I check the time. “It’s not even noon, Jacob.”
“You people are driving me to the brink of insanity,” he groans.
“Who are these people?” I ask, feigning offense.
“You, Crawford. All of you.”
I grin, pleased. “You love my family. If you really hated us, you would have dropped us like a bad second date a long time ago.”
Jacob exhales so forcefully it sounds painful. “Do you realize that you just gave away about four million dollars in endorsements?”
I snort. “Nah, the renovations aren’t that much.”
Am I aware that after those videos, they received a lot of business from the locals and even from people in the city? Yes, they’ve been texting about it. It was a win-win situation. They help me help Olivia, who believes that everyone is out to use her. And I help them gain more business.
“What are you getting in return for this?” he asks, likely trying to figure out if he can salvage something or if he needs to figure out a way to secure his usual cut.
I sigh, stretching lazily. “Me?” I pause for dramatic effect. “Hopefully, a kiss by the end of next week.”
Silence.
