Page 100 of Love, Literature, and the Linebacker

“We’ve already had plenty of time,” I say. “Come on, we shouldn’t keep them waiting.”

He stretches, reaching for my hand like he’s trying to pull me back into bed.

“But I’m not ready to share you yet,” he teases.

“We’ve got the whole trip.”

Dylan finally sits up, his grin widening.

“You’re right,” he says. “Let’s get dressed before Gemma kicks the door down.”

I grab my clothes from the chair. Pulling on my jeans and the soft sweater I packed, I can feel Dylan’s eyes on me the entire time.

When I glance over, he’s still sitting on the edge of the bed, grinning like a mischievous kid.

“What?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Nothing,” he says, standing up and pulling his shirt over his head. “Just enjoying the view.”

I roll my eyes, though I can feel my cheeks warming.

“You’re impossible.”

“And you love it,” he counters.

We’re fully dressed when Gemma’s voice cuts through the door again, muffled but loud.

“If you’re not down here in two minutes, I’m eating all the bacon!”

Dylan laughs and cracks the door open. “Go ahead, Gem. I’ll just tell Mom you stole my share.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” she shouts back.

“Oh, I absolutely would,” he says, smirking as he swings the door open wider and glances at me.

Before we can step into the hallway, he catches my hand and spins me toward him, pressing a quick kiss to my lips. I laugh against his mouth, almost forgetting where we are.

“We really have to go,” I mumble, breathless.

“Do we, though?” he murmurs.

“Dylan,” I say, smiling as I press a hand to his chest. “We’re going to be late.”

He sighs dramatically but lets me go. “Fine. But only because I don’t want to explain to my mom why we missed breakfast.”

Still holding hands, we head downstairs together.

The smell of bacon and coffee greets us as soon as we reach the kitchen. Kate stands at the stove, relaxed and cheerful, while Gemma is already seated at the table, her eyes lighting up when she sees us.

“There they are,” Gemma announces. “I was starting to think you’d decided breakfast was optional.”

“Never,” Dylan says easily as I take a seat.

For a brief moment, everything feels effortless.

Kate slides a plate of pancakes onto the table, smiling as Gemma teases Dylan about sleeping in. The room hums with easy conversation, laughter brushing against the walls like something well-worn and intimate.

Dylan moves around the kitchen easily, grabbing plates, stealing a piece of bacon from the pan while his mom swats his hand away. Gemma rolls her eyes but laughs anyway.