Page 146 of Love, Literature, and the Linebacker

I shrug, trying to play it cool. “Maybe.”

He laughs, exchanging knowing looks with a few of the guys nearby. “Yeah, okay. We all know what that means.” He raises his brows. “She gonna say yes?”

I smirk. “Guess I’ll find out.”

They clap me on the back, tossing out encouragement and jokes, and even though I pretend it’s no big deal, their excitement makes it harder to keep pretending. This team and this city have become part of my life. Lucy is the reason none of it feels like it came at the expense of something better.

As I head to my car, my thoughts are already on her. On the way her smile softens my edges. On how a year ago, everything felt like an impossible choice—football or love. And now, here we are. Still together. Still building.

I drive across town, knowing she’ll be running late. She’s been working extra hours lately at the publishing house where her internship turned into a full-time job. Watching her grow into it—confident and passionate—has been one of my favorite things this year.

The ring sits heavy in my jacket pocket as I park near the outdoor theater. The air is crisp, the kind of early-spring night that sharpens everything. They’re hosting Shakespeare outdoors, something Lucy’s been counting down to all month.

I spot her getting out of her car, her tired expression brightening the second she sees me.

“Hey, stranger,” she teases when I reach her, leaning up to kiss me. “Long day?”

“You could say that,” I reply, threading my fingers through hers as we head toward the park.

She fills me in on a new author she’s working with, animated despite the long hours, and I’m struck again by how lucky I am to walk beside her, to build a life that makes room for both of us.

The park buzzes with energy, but I find a couple of open benches beneath the trees just as the hot chocolate line thins. We grab two cups and settle near the edge of the crowd. Lucy leans into me as the play begins, laughter bubbling up at just the right moments.

I watch her more than the stage. Stories, words, and feelings are her world. And being invited into it has changed me.

When the play ends, applause fills the night. Lucy turns to me, eyes glowing. “That was amazing. I love Shakespeare like this outside, under the stars.”

“I know,” I murmur, kissing her temple.

We walk along the gravel path, drifting away from the noise, her head resting against my shoulder.

I stop beneath a cluster of trees where moonlight spills silver across the ground.

She looks up at me, curious. “You’re quiet. What’s going on in that head of yours?”

I chuckle, heart pounding. “Just thinking about how we got here. And where we’re going.”

She smiles, squeezing my hand. “Heavy thoughts for a Thursday.”

“Yeah.” I hold her for one last second before stepping back.

“What is it?” she asks softly.

I take a breath, reach into my pocket, and bring out the box.

Her eyes widen, hands flying to her mouth.

“Lucy Bennett,” I begin, dropping to one knee, nerves hitting like the final seconds of a championship game. “The best thing that ever happened to me started with a broken-down car. You taught me that loving someone doesn’t mean choosing for them. It means listening, growing, and building something together. You’re my best friend, and you’re the person I want beside me through every version of what comes next. Will you marry me?”

She laughs through tears, nodding hard. “Yes. Yes, Dylan. Of course.”

Relief and joy crash through me as I slide the ring onto her finger. I stand, pull her into my arms, and kiss her like nothing else in the world exists. She laughs against my mouth, holding me just as tight.

When we part, she stares at the ring, stunned. “It’s perfect,” she whispers.

I grin, brushing a tear away. “I’m glad you love it. Aunt Joss might have helped pick it out.”

“I’m sure she loved that.”