Chapter 49
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.
Lucian: It’s the emotional intimacy for me.
Olivia: You love emotional intimacy now?
Look at you evolving.
Lucian: I’m basically a walking romance novel.
Strong jaw. Soft heart.
Great thighs.
Olivia: Tragic backstory?
Lucian: Please. My dog prefers my ex-girlfriend.
That’s pain.
Olivia: That is pretty dark.
Want me to write your blurb?
Lucian: “He plays to win. But she’s the only game he can’t quit.”
Olivia: Stop.
I’m going to cry and it’ll ruin my mascara.
Lucian: I’ll ruin it later.
From below.
Olivia: Lucian.
Lucian: Just trying to keep things balanced.
Emotional, then feral.
That’s our thing.
Olivia: You’re the worst.
Lucian: And you’re in love with me.
Olivia: . . .maybe.
Lucian: Hold that thought.
I’ve got two more interviews, and then I’m coming home.
Lucian: Okay interviews are over.
Olivia: How long till you’re here?
Lucian: Hour or so. Maybe less if traffic loves me.
Olivia: I’ll keep Sarah awake.
She growled when I paused the game to pee.
Lucian: She’s loyal.
You should try it sometime.
Olivia: I stayed on the couch in your hoodie for four quarters.
That’s commitment.
Lucian: You in my hoodie is my Roman Empire.
Olivia: You’re so dramatic.
Lucian: Yeah? Wait till I walk through the door, grab you by the hips, and remind you what you’ve been missing.
Olivia: Still dramatic.
Still working, though.
Lucian: Good. Keep the hoodie on.
Just that. Nothing else.
Olivia: . . .Lucian.
Lucian: I want to drop to my knees the second I see you.
Hands under the fabric, mouth on your skin, your fingers in my hair.
Olivia: You’re going to cause an accident.
Lucian: I’ll drive safe.
I need to make it home in one piece.
You can take me apart later.
Olivia: You’re exhausting.
Lucian: And you’re mine. See you soon, baby.