“Damn straight I do," Jude said, grabbing my waist and lifting me into the cab. "Tell him my girl comes before football. Tell him my girl's breakfast comes before football.”

“Tell him my girl comes before football. Tell him my girl's breakfast comes before football.”

“Luce," Jude said, unfurling the blanket cinched around me, grabbing my hands when he pulled them free, "you're my girl. The girl." To join the other emotions flashing over over his face, a trace of pain did as well. "When I look at Adriana, or any other girl for that matter, that's all I see. Some other girl who isn't my girl. I don't see them, Luce. I see you," he continued, his skin lining between his brows. "I've only ever seen you.”

“Say that again, Tony," Jude warned, his jaw clenched, "and the only thing I'll be throwing at your pinhead again will be my boot." "What?" Tony said. "Telling the truth about Adriana panting in heat for you?" "No, shithead," Jude said, notes of anger slipping between his teeth. "Call my girl 'love' again. Shes's mine. I get to call her that. Not some pissant jerk-off with a big mouth.”

“I'll try," he said, stretching his neck. "She's beautiful girl, Ryder. You're a lucky man." "Don't tell me what I have like I don't know it," Jude said, his arms stiffening.”

“Lou didn't need to tell me, Luce," he said, looking between me and the field. "I don't need someone to tell me when my girl's in the stands. I could pick you out even if I was playing in the Superdome and you were tucked into the back row.”

“Something was fighting back, telling my gut to take a hike. Something wanted Jude Ryder in my life, no matter the consequences or the outcome. And whatever that something was, I liked it.”