Page 58 of Good Girl's Guide to Love
He brings it into his chest.
And then he falls to the ground.
But he never loses hold of it.
Touchdown Fury.
Touchdown, Linc.
“Oh my gosh!” I yell, cheering and jumping up and down in the middle of the bar. But I’m not the only one. Mia is randomly high-fiving the table next to us before running over to me and picking me up, spinning me in a circle.
“You’re boyfriend is a fucking beast!” she yells. “That’s right! My girl is dating Linc Kincaid, and the Fury are going back to the championship!”
That earns a few hoot and hollers from the crowd as I focus back on the television, where the camera on the field is now zoomed in on Linc.
“What’s he doing?”
I don’t answer Mia as I watch the camera zoom in on Linc, ball still in his hand. I feel the goofy grin on my face as I see how happy he is, while also knowing how much relief he has to feel after having a game like he just did.
When the camera is just inches from him, I watch as he points to it…all before he makes an “x” across his heart.
“Why’d he do that?” Mia asks. “I’ve never seen him do that after a touchdown.”
I bite my lip and fumble to find the rubber band on my wrist and snap it. Because I think know.
Cross my heart…
He…that was for me. Don’t ask me how I know, but I do. And not in an overthinking kind of way. No, Linc looked right in the camera and made the motion. It felt intentional. And even though he’s across town, playing in a stadium with sixty-nine thousand fans surrounding him, and thousands more watching this game around Nashville, at this moment, I know that this is a moment for us.
Gosh darn it…I’m really going to need another rubber band.
guide to love #102
First dates are nerve-racking even when they’re with your fake boyfriend.
17
ainsley
“Nope. Next option.”
I turn to Stella, who’s sitting on my bed, looking me up and down in a way that I’m not too sure I like. “What? Why?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know…it just needs something.”
I look back at the mirror and check myself out in the white, floral tea-length sundress that I picked for the night. I mean, sure, maybe a necklace or bracelet, but other than that, I don’t know what “something” could mean.
“I think I have some jewelry I can wear,” I say, walking to my vanity. But Stella doesn’t answer me. Instead she jumps up from the bed and marches into my closet. “What are you doing?”
“Finding you something else to wear.”
I look to the mirror, trying to see what she doesn’t like. “I like this dress. I feel pretty in it.”
“You are. You’re gorgeous, and that’s not what I’m saying.” She trails off, and as I look over, I see articles of clothing actually flying out of my closet. “But it’s a white floral dress for a date night. At a dark-lit, fancy restaurant. That’s not a sundress occasion. You need something…more.”
“Well, I don’t know what ‘more’ is, but I don’t think you’re going to find it in my closet. Not since you moved out.”
If there’s a fashionista of the family, Stella is the clear winner. Funny enough, Simon comes in second. She’s always wanted me to dress a little edgier on certain occasions, or wear something a little more revealing, but I’ve always politely declined. Thankfully, we’re not the same size so she can’t force me to wear a crop top or a form-fitting dress. I’ll stick to my sundresses and rompers, thank you very much.
