Jason: Please do. Recovering athlete here. I need carbs. And emotional support baked goods. Pretty sure it is science.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Jason: I have big news.
Scottie: If this is about finding your lucky skates, I am not impressed.
Jason: Rude.
Jason: I got cleared for full-contact drills. No brace. No limitations. Just me, my gear, and a knee that does not feel like it is held together by duct tape and prayers.
Scottie: That is amazing, Tate!
Scottie: I am so proud of you. Seriously.
Jason: Five weeks without you, and I am somehow still functioning. Miracles all around.
Scottie: You are the one doing the work. I am just the voice in your head cheering while eating questionable airport muffins.
Jason: You are a lot more than that, Crawford.
Jason: You are the reason I get out of bed, put in the work, and don't punch the team’s physical therapist in the face when he makes me sprint uphill.
Scottie: Sounds like I deserve a medal.
Jason: You deserve to be pinned against the nearest wall and kissed until you forget your own name.
Scottie: Focus on skating before you sprain your mouth, Tate.
Jason: It should be. Call it “morale boosting.”
Scottie: You are incorrigible.
Jason: You love it.
Jason: We make a good team.
Scottie: We do.
Scottie: Living the dream.
Jason: Next dream? You. Me. No clothes. No distance. Just you in my bed, where you belong.
Scottie: Not yet, but we can always video call.
Jason: On it, see you tonight.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Jason: I have big news.
Jason: Survived scrimmage day without spontaneous combustion.
Scottie: High bar.
Jason: Hey, you joke, but no spontaneous combustion is critical to my comeback arc.
Scottie: Noted. Proud of you, fire hazard.